I wake up to light streaming in through the gap of my curtains. Stirring a bit, I feel the weight of an arm over my waist. I smile as I recall the previous night with Shoresy and how he's still in my bed. Moving carefully, I turn to face him. The movement causes his eyes to flutter open.
"Morning, cuteness," he says, smiling sleepily.
"Morning," I yawn. "Sleep well?"
"Slept great," he replies, squeezing me. "You?"
"Same." I smile at him and stretch. "Hungry?"
"Always."
"I'll make some breakfast." I kiss him gently before climbing out of bed. I grab a random band tee and put on a clean pair of panties before walking to the kitchen. I fill my kettle and then pull out some bacon and hash browns to start cooking.
As the food cooks, the smell fills the apartment. Shoresy walks into the kitchen and wraps his arms around my waist as I stand at the stove, kissing my shoulder. I smile and lean back into him.
"Want some tea," I ask.
"Yeah, actually. I'll take some."
"Same as last night?"
"Surprise me." He kisses my cheek before sitting down at the island. I think of what he might like and grab out a couple of chai bags. The kettle whistles and I pour the water into our mugs. I let the tea steep as I finish up cooking.
Once the food is done, I make us each a plate and set them on the island before adding milk and sugar to the tea. I carry our mugs over and sit down. Shoresy takes the mug from me and takes a drink. I watch his face, trying to see if he likes it.
"Good fucking god, it's like my tongue is getting a hug," he says before taking another drink. I chuckle at him.
"I'm glad I could expand your tastes," I say as I put ketchup on my hash browns.
"Wanna calm it down there, bud," he asks, laughing at how much I put on them.
"I like ketchup," I shrug.
"Such a Yank," he says, nudging my shoulder with his. I smirk as I take a bite.
"Any plans today," I ask.
"Practice," he says as he eats a piece of bacon.
"How many days a week do you practice?"
"Five most of the time. But sometimes six or seven."
"Damn. You guys are dedicated."
"Have to be. Never-"
"Never gonna lose again," I say, cutting him off as I smirk at him.
"Damn right," he grins. We eat in a comfortable silence. "I meant what I said last night," he eventually says.
"Which part," I ask. We'd talked a lot the previous night.
"I could be so good to ya," he says as he eats.
"We've known each other less than a week," I tell him.
"The heart wants what it wants," he shrugs. "Whadya say?"
"Shoresy," I say, struggling with how I want to answer. "I like you, okay? But I just got out of a shitty relationship and I'm in a new city; fuck, a new country. It's just a lot, ya know?"
"I'll win you over," he says confidently. "I'll be so nice to ya, you'll be writing love songs about me."
"I won't stop you from trying," I laugh, "but I can't commit to anything serious right now."
