I woke, brought out of slumber by Eddie's snores. I blinked my eyes open, glaring at the man who could rival a chainsaw with the sounds coming out of his mouth. My frustration gave way to butterflies when he pulled me closer to him, his arms around me tight. I realized that we were both still undressed, and I had spent the night in his arms, sleeping on his chest.
What was wrong with me?
I took a beat, studying the tattoos splayed across his chest – he had gotten more since high school, more since the night he had been my first everything. Before I could stop myself, I reached out, tracing a design of a dagger on his chest. A snore caught in his throat, and I was brought back to reality.
I moved out of his arms gingerly, careful not to wake him up. I scoffed when he barely moved, still very much in a deep sleep. I rolled off my bed, swiping my nightgown off the ground from where Eddie had thrown it last night. I pulled it on, smoothing it out and cursing myself.
I stormed to my bathroom, feeling more and more like Ellie, and closed my door. I started brushing my teeth and glaring at myself in the mirror. I was an idiot. I was an absolute moron. In what world was this a good idea? I spat my paste out and took a deep breath before going out to my apartment.
I went to my kitchen to start a pot of coffee. I paused – should I make more than I normally would? Do friends do that?
I groaned and scooped more coffee grounds into the filter, cursing my stupid, drunken slumber party and the fact that I even wanted to make him coffee. I started the pot, glaring at the slow drip.
"Morning, Belle."
"Jesus H. Christ!" I screeched, leaping what felt like three feet in the air. I turned to Eddie, trying not to flush at him in just his boxers. He grinned wildly at me, his hair messy and askew.
"Sorry, sweet pea," he said, dubbing me with a new nickname. He leaned against my kitchen counter and grinned at me. I felt my face heat as his eyes traced my body. "Coffee smells good. What's for breakfast?"
"Sweet pea?" I asked. He winked.
"I think it's cute."
"I'm not sweet. And you don't give friends that kind of nickname," I pushed, turning back to the coffee pot to hide my red face. I felt him come up behind me, the heat of his body sending me flashbacks of last night. He set his chin on my shoulder.
"Well, do friends make breakfast?" he asked, his voice low and sending shivers through my body.
"I don't eat breakfast," I replied, answering honestly. "I don't really cook."
"Belle, you don't eat breakfast? You don't cook?" he asked, incredulously. He set the heavy hands that had roamed all over me the night before on my waist, prompting me to look at him. He was close to my face, making my hair stand on edge.
"Your breath stinks," I replied, trying to break the tension. I was unsuccessful as he laughed and kissed my temple.
"Take a step back – I'm going to cook us breakfast."
I scoffed as he guided me out of the way and went to my fridge. I watched him as I poured us coffee, surprised by how comfortable he was in a kitchen.
"Do...do you want cream or sugar?" I asked awkwardly. He looked at me and grinned.
"How do you take it?"
"With a lot of cream and sugar," I replied sheepishly. He chuckled.
"That surprises me – I would think you take it black, as hardcore as you are," he teased, setting the supplies he found on the counter next to the stove. "For someone who doesn't cook, you've got the good stuff."
"I always go to the grocery store and buy stuff and promise myself that I'm going to start cooking. Then, I feel guilty when I throw it away," I answered, handing him his coffee. He smiled kindly at me.
"Good thing it won't go to waste this time," he replied, clinking his mug to mine. He took a sip and let out a cheer. "Hot damn, sweet pea, that's delicious."
I felt my face go crimson and sipped at my coffee. I watched him as he deftly cracked eggs into a bowl, quickly stirring them together with seasonings. He started the stove and began rummaging around the cabinets, pulling out different pans out.
"This might be the only way I take my coffee going forward," he flirted, taking another sip and winking at me. I smiled in spite of myself. "You're cute when you're not full of your usual venom."
"I thought you liked my venom," I shot back. His smile grew and he set a hand on his chest.
"I love your venom, Belle. Just know that I find your sweet alter ego just as intoxicating," he complimented. I rolled my eyes and took a large gulp of my coffee.
"Friends don't say things like that," I muttered, looking at my feet. He laughed, something that made my hair stand on edge in the best way and made me want to join him.
"Yes, friends," he piled on. I felt a wave of shame, wondering if I was stupid again. "If we are friends who do what we did tonight, I hope we never stop being friends, sweet pea."
I felt a small part of me leap with joy – that was Ellie. I shook my head and tampered her excitement.
---
I smiled at Elle. God, she was prettier in the morning, if that was even possible. Her eyes still full of sleep and her hair messy. I wanted to kiss her again, but I knew not to push my luck.
"I don't know if friends do...I don't know about that," she replied to me. She looked down at her feet and I continued to stir our breakfast in the pan. I flipped the eggs and lowered some bacon into the pan.
"I mean, we're friends," I started. I was not about to let this go. I would do anything to keep this going, even if it meant letting her think we were just friends until she came to her senses. I was going to win her over no matter what. "And we did that."
"Yeah," she answered, still quiet and looking at her feet. No, no, no. I wasn't losing her.
"I've never had that much fun with a friend before," I flirted. I was hoping to glean a smile out of her, but she looked up at me and narrowed her eyes.
"Never?" she pushed. I felt confused – I didn't know how to answer.
"Can't say that I have, sweet pea," I replied.
"Never? You're sure about that?"
I watched her. What was she getting at?
"No," I said slowly. "But I'd like to continue it."
She scoffed.
"Figures," she said to herself. "The tree remembers what the axe forgets."
Fuck. I had forgotten something else. What was wrong with me?
"Belle, I'm—"
"No, no," she interrupted. This wasn't harsh – it was gentle. "It's fine."
I felt my stomach twist. I knew it wasn't fine, and I was desperate to remember what I had forgotten. She smiled brightly, catching me off guard. I finished cooking and started plating our breakfast.
"Show me the way, sweet pea," I ordered. She groaned, picking my coffee up for me.
"Quit calling me that," she insisted, making me smile as we walked to her kitchen table. I set our food down and sat next to her, kissing her temple quickly and making her flush. I liked our messy boundaries so much. I needed to keep pushing them.
"Bon appetite, Belle," I flirted. She glared at me but took her fork and placed a bite in her mouth. I felt my heart clench when her surly façade vanished, and she had a look of shock.
"Holy shit. That's delicious," she exclaimed. I laughed and winked at her, delighting in how much she enjoyed it. "Oh my god, Eddie, this is so good. Where did you learn to cook?"
"I was a line cook a couple of times over the last two years," I answered, joining her in eating. I grinned – this was one of my better breakfasts. "Made breakfast the morning after for a couple of girls."
I watched her stop, but she shook her head. I took this as an opportunity and brushed her hair behind her ear, keeping it on the side of her face. She looked at me, her bright eyes stunned and the eyes I loved when I caught her off guard.
"No one near as special as you," I flirted. She rolled her eyes, and her stare was hard again.
"What a line – you tell those other girls that, too?" she snapped. I grinned and leaned back in the chair. I loved when she was mean.
"None of my lines work on you, sweet pea," I said. She shrugged, finishing her eggs.
"Shouldn't use lines on your friends then," she quipped. I bit the inside of my cheek and decided to push it.
"Do friends dream about each other?" I asked. She froze. I grinned wider and leaned forward, setting my forearms on the table and leaning close to her. She was turning red. "Just curious."
"I don't – you don't – I'm not—"
"Oh, Belle – didn't think I caught that? You thought it was one of your dreams last night," I continued. She looked at me, her cheeks bright red, and I took a bite of bacon. "I can't say that you haven't been the star of many of my dreams, Belle."
"I just...you can't help your dreams," she said shakily. I chuckled and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, tracing her jaw with my thumb. I started pulling her close to my face. "And we're just friends."
I pursed my lips. She was going to be a pain in the ass about this. No bother. I was going to do everything I could to win her over. I smiled and got close to her face. She stopped me again.
"Seriously, Eddie. Just friends."
"Sure – just friends," I parroted back before kissing her deeply. I grinned when she melted into me, no doubt giving into something she hated. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my lap, delighting in the fact she followed my lead.
I was going to be the best fucking friend she ever had.