Page 18 of Size Queen

7

Noelle

The sun hits my eyes like a bully, blinding me completely. I’m trying to wake up, but it takes me several seconds to remember where I am.

I turn and face the other way, suddenly very aware of where I am andwhoI’m with—the man who is quickly disproving my working theory that I would never meet a man who actuallyknewa woman. Damon Abrams is far more than just a gang leader or businessowner; he’s a love machine.

He snores, not loudly or disruptively, but like a low-powered box fan. It’s lulling, relaxing… He very nearly puts me back to sleep just seeing him in such a deep slumber.

Then, I really start waking up. It takes me a second to even remember the day… Saturday morning. My phone isn’t anywhere near me, so I can’t discern the time precisely, but I know it can’t be before 9:00.

Usually, a guy would come home with me and then he was out before the sun was even up. It’s uncharacteristic of me to have spent the night; I was under the impression that most (if not all) men didn’t want to risk having the girl stay over and risk having a temporary roommate. Of course, Damon isn’t “most men.”

Finally, he wakes up. He turns around, eyes barely open, a smile forming on his face when he sees me. I’ve learned that his smile is contagious.

“Morning,” he mutters.

“Hi,” I say, trying not to look like a schoolgirl head over heels.

He surprises me again by kissing my lips good morning. Soft, sweet, able to be savored.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” I begin nervously. “I didn’t mean to spend the night. I just… it was late, and we’d been drinking—”

“No need to apologize,” he assures me. “You’re more than welcome to crash after a night like last night.”

We both giggle impishly and resume our kissing. The sheets are tangled all around our bodies, which prevents us from getting a good hold on each other. It’s probably a good thing; otherwise, we might end up resuming last night’s activities as well, and then we might not ever make it out of the bedroom…

“So, you have girls fall asleep with you often?” I ask.

“Not at all, actually,” he chuckles. “I’ve never had a girl stay the night after like that before.”

“Wow,” I say, slightly embarrassed. “I amreallysorry.”

“I’m telling you, stop saying you’re sorry,” he reiterates. “It’s okay, there’s no rush. Charge your phone if you need to.”

I look around the room, searching for my various items of clothing that didn’t stay on long the night before. I know my phone is somewhere in the pile of clothes on the floor, but I don’t want to get out of bed.

After many minutes of silence, each of us waiting for the other to speak, I finally get out of bed, untangling the sheets from my limbs. I scramble around, first seeking out my undergarments, but I’m moving slowly.

Damon’s eyes open wider once he realizes what I’m missing.

“I don’t know what’s more fun,” he chuckles. “Taking your clothes off or watching that perfect body trying to put them back on.”

“Whatever,” I scoff. “I look good, but I’m not perfect.”

“I don’t know… from where I am right now, you look like a work of art to me.”

“You’re just saying that because I had sex with you,” I tease. “And because I’m naked.”

“All of those things might be true, but what I’m saying is true, too,” he retorts. “I’m incredibly lucky to get to gaze at a woman like you.”

Just as I find my bra at the foot of the bed, it hits me: none of this feels awkward at all. Damon also doesn’t justseemchill—heischill, happy to be exactly where he is in that moment. I deliberately take my time to get dressed now, hoping that I might excite him. I like seeing him get worked up.

“Got anything planned today?” I ask.

“Not sure,” he replies. “When you own the shop, you can afford to miss a weekend every now and then. I don’t reallyhaveto do anything.”

I suddenly feel the need to quickly get dressed. Grabbing the remainder of my clothes off the floor like a bulldozer, I flee from the bedroom in search of the nearest bathroom.