The Marriage Contract

7. Mixed Feelings

When I woke up on Friday morning, I noticed three things: 1) I wasn't in my bedroom, 2) it was insanely - but still comfortably - warm and 3) Ryland's t-shirt was in a wad on the floor.

I was vaguely aware of the music playing softly from somewhere in the apartment and as the sun warmed my face, it would've been easy for me to fall back to sleep...until warm breath fanned across my cheek and the sound of light snoring found its way up to my ears.

Automatically, I tensed up. Slowly, I looked behind me and found a shirtless Ryland pressed up against my back, his arm over my waist and his head nestled carelessly in my hair. I gulped suddenly nervous, even though I really had no reason to be...I mean I know that we didn't get "carried away" last night, because we didn't even touch each other, so how we ended up in this position is really beyond me.

Carefully, so I didn't have to wake him up, I moved his arm from around my waist and eased off the couch into the floor. I sat there for a minute, making sure that he wasn't awake, then stood up and checked myself - all seemed to be in order.

I looked back at him once more and just lingered on his face. As he slept, all the masks and tenseness that he normally wore was washed away; he had an innocence about him that you rarely see on men - or women for that matter.

As I looked at him, I really noticed his face for the first time. He had let his stubble grow out a bit since I met him about a week ago; his eye lashes were so long that they very nearly brushed against his cheeks as he slept and his lips were the perfect cupids bow. I could understand why just about any woman would fall for this Adonis-like creature laying before me; I know that many women would cut off their right arm to be in my position, but I just can't ignore his attitude. How closed off he is all of the time...except for last night.

Last night, he was different. All those walls that he normally had up around me, and basically anyone else were collapsed...mostly. I could still see hesitations in his eyes, like he was afraid of something, but it was clear that he was at least attempting. And if he can, so can I.

With this thought in mind, and one last look at him, I tiptoed into the kitchen and began looking around. I have lived here going on a week now and this would be the first time that I had attempted to cook in this kitchen - which is very strange considering how much I loved cooking for me, my mom and dad.

Opening the refrigerator, I looked around for a second before I spotted my intended targets: eggs, bacon and cheese. Next I went in search of a frying pan. After a couple of minutes, I found one and went to work frying the bacon and scrambling the eggs; putting a couple pieces of bread in the toaster, too.

Just as I was separating the food onto two different plates, I heard Ryland moving around in the living room. Eventually, he made his way into the kitchen. He stood in the door, still shirtless, running a hand through his messy hair. If I thought that he was attractive before, well, this surpasses anything - and anyone - I had ever seen.

He said nothing as he looked over at me with a slightly confused look, "Well," I said, breaking the silence, "I thought since you rented the movie and bought take-out, I could at least make you breakfast," I said with a genuine smile on my face that I haven't shone in a while.

He looked at me for a second longer before a small smile broke across his face. "Thank you," he said simply, his smile still in place. I nodded towards the table, signaling him to sit down, and he did as I instructed. I placed his plate down in front of him along with a glass of orange juice, then sat down beside him.

He picked up his fork and stabbed it into a piece of the eggs that were on his plate. Bringing it up to his mouth and taking a bite, he moaned in satisfaction and closed his eyes. "It seems like it has been years since I have had actual homemade food," he said taking another bite. "I'm going to have to make you cook more often," he said, a small smirk playing around the edges of his mouth. I blushed - yes, I really blushed - at his complement and started on my own breakfast.