Page 14 of Patchwork
Onyx’s voice startles a yelp from me. I spin around to find him leaning against the doorframe with one of my mugs in his hand and a wry smile twisting his lips. He’s dressed similarly to me, in a pair of low slung shorts and nothing else. I notice a few hickies I left on his chest last night, sucked onto the blank spots between the patchwork of his tattoos. His hair is messy from sleep, and he has a composition notebook tucked under his arm.
“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” I put a hand over my racing heart and laugh.
“You thought I took off, didn’t you?”
I scoff and turn to open the cupboard where I keep my coffee mugs. “No.”
“Liar. You thought I left without waking you up and you were saaaaad.” There’s a teasing lilt in his voice that takes the edge off the accusation. He pads across the kitchen floor, and a second later, I feel the brush of his lips against the back of my shoulder. “Have I ever lied to you?”
I think back over the last four years of sporadic hookups and occasional steamy video chats, then shake my head. No, he’s never lied to me. When he says he can give me two nights, he gives me two nights. When he says he’s only passing through town and has a couple of hours, that’s what I get. It’s just fucking impossible to wrap my head around the idea that he could be here for three whole months. There’s no way that’s real.
“Exactly.” He kisses my shoulder again. “Now move your ass. You’re blocking the coffee, and I am extremely unpleasant until I’ve had at least half a pot.” He nips at the same spot he just kissed, and I chuckle.
“I haven’t had any yet, rockstar, give me a damn second.” I take my time filling my mug just to be a pain in the ass, and he groans dramatically, but waits his turn. “I didn’t hear you when I got up,” I say conversationally, finally stepping out of the way to give him a chance to pour his own coffee.
“I was sitting out back.” He sets his notebook on the counter, far enough away from the coffee maker to be safe from any potential spills. “It’s so peaceful and quiet.”
Boring. I mentally supply the word he’s looking for. I’m sure a quiet morning listening to birds in my backyard is a nice change of pace for him, like a vacation to a cabin in the middle of nowhere, but he’ll be craving his real life again in no time.
“I have no clue where my phone is, and it’s so fucking liberating I can’t even tell you,” he says. “I just spent, like, an hour sipping coffee and free writing lyrics just for the hell of it.” Onyx sighs happily.
“It’s nice to get a vacation from your life once in a while.” I take a sip of my coffee and Onyx groans dramatically again, but this time it’s more of a happy sound than a playfully impatient one.
“It really fucking is,” he agrees.
I nod along for a second and then everything he’s saying comes together into a brilliant lightbulb moment. He’s looking for a relaxing vacation, and I can definitely give him that. I can’t make Fall Crosse exciting, but I can sure as hell pamper him and give him every reason to want to stay the full three months, starting right now.
“Do you want something to eat? I make a frittata that will knock your socks off.” I waggle my eyebrows.
“I’m not wearing any socks,” he deadpans.
“Well, go put some socks on and get ready to have them knocked off.”
He barks out a laugh then takes a sip of his coffee. “Alright, if you insist.”
Onyx saunters out of the kitchen. I watch him go for a second before turning to my refrigerator to pull out everything I’ll need to make him one world-class frittata. I should really plan ahead and pick up a brisket to smoke this weekend, maybe start some chicken breasts marinating for dinner tonight too. Food alone won’t be enough to impress him into hanging around, but it’s a start.
By the time I hear Onyx’s footsteps returning, I have a variety of ingredients scattered across the counter for dinner tonight and the frittata I’m about to make for him. I glance over my shoulder and, sure enough, he has a pair of socks on now. Not just any socks, but a mismatch of one of my favorite purple knee highs with unicorns and rainbows on them, and a hot pink one with fluffy white cats.
“How do you ever get out of the house on time with so many incredible pairs of socks to choose from?” He does a little strut into the kitchen and strikes a pose like he’s on a runway.
“It’s a problem,” I agree with a chuckle. “Now, sit your ass down and drink your coffee while I impress you with my mad culinary skills.”
ONYX
Hero wasn’t lying, the frittata is fucking incredible. My socks are still on, but that’s only because my toes got a little cold while I was sitting outside in nothing but a pair of shorts earlier.
I don’t know why we ended up eating in the kitchen, with my ass perched happily on the counter and Hero leaning next to me, but I’m not complaining. I swing my legs and hum a happy little song as I scrape the last bite into my mouth and then practically lick the plate.
“This is the second best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
“Oh yeah?” Hero flirts, taking my empty plate and stacking it on top of his.
“Yeah, the first best thing was a fresh bakedpain au chocolatfrom this little bakery in Quebec.”
He snorts a laugh. “You’re a laugh riot.”
“I know, right?” I loop a hand around his neck and drag him closer. He positions himself between my legs, just a smidge shorter than me for a change with me sitting on the counter. “I’m kidding. There isn’t a pastry in the world I’d rather put in my mouth than your dick.”
