Page 19 of Wrapped Up In You
And despite my concerns, I was asleep in moments.
11
JONATHAN
December 25
Ihad never been so disappointed to wake up to an empty bed. I’d fallen asleep with Hayden wrapped in my arms, sated from mutual orgasms and comforted by his warmth. Now, I was lying in a chilly room with the sheets gone cold, and the only hint he’d been here was the scent of him on the pillow next to me.
I turned my head, shoving my nose into the pillow and inhaling deeply. I didn’t think I could identify what it was in that scent that pulled me to him, but there was something about it that was comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket.
Jesus, what the hell was wrong with me?
I was probably the least sentimental person on the planet, besides my father, of course. Since when did I analyze the effect someone’s scent had on me?
But good god, Hayden had had that effect on me since he’d walked into the cabin, what was it—not quite two full days ago. He made me feel like a different person. I’d experienced more emotions in thirty-six hours than I could remember feeling in an entire year, which was saying something as someone who’d just finalized his divorce. It was unnerving.
Though I also couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so good. And I wasn’t just talking about the orgasms. Hayden had a way of getting me to not take life quite so seriously. To worry less and laugh more. To spend less time concerned with expectations and all the ways I should be acting and thinking, but instead, just live in the moment and take things as they came. It was freeing.
And terrifying.
That was enough of that. I threw back the blankets and rose from the bed, stretching my arms and admiring the view. Since there was no one out here in the wilderness, we hadn’t bothered pulling the curtains the night before. The sun was shining on all the untouched snow, making me feel like I was in the center of a snow globe.
With the scent of bacon wafting in through the closed door, I pulled on my joggers from last night and stumbled out of the bedroom, wordlessly making my way into the bathroom to piss and brush my teeth. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I almost didn’t recognize myself. My usually tidy hair was standing on end, the stubble I hadn’t shaved yesterday was even thicker today, and I could see the marks of a hickey at the base of my neck. I wasn’t sure when Hayden had put that there, but to my surprise, I actually liked it. I liked that he’d marked me. That someone had wanted me badly enough to do it. I couldn’t think of anyone, not a man or woman, who had desired me enough to mark me. To claim me.
God, what else had I been missing out on? What things had I discounted as unnecessary simply because I hadn’t experienced them? I’d spent my whole life operating on all manner of assumptions. How many of them had been wrong?
I pulled the first aid kit out from under the sink and redressed the cut on my hand. It didn’t look as bad as it initially had but was still a bit tender and sore. I found a large Band-Aid and managed to get it on one-handed, then left the bathroom.
I followed the scent of bacon and coffee into the kitchen, where Hayden was standing at the stove, manning a griddle and a spatula. I came up behind him, wrapped one arm around his torso, and placed a kiss just above the neckline of his T-shirt.
He leaned his head back against my shoulder for a moment, giving me better access to nibble on his neck. “Mmmm. That feels good.”
“You taste good.” I gave him one last nip before backing away and turning toward the coffee maker. “I can’t believe you’re up before me.”
“I take it you’re an early riser?”
“Usually. I’ve always been wired that way. Even as a kid.”
“That tracks.”
I turned and leaned against the counter opposite where he was flipping pancakes and sipped my coffee. “Why do you say that?”
He tossed a smirk over his shoulder before returning his attention to the griddle. “You just strike me as the sort of person who thrives on routine, and that would naturally include getting up early.”
“You think you have me all figured out, do you?” I asked playfully.
He moved the pancakes to a plate and handed it to me. “Take these over to the table, will you?”
I took the plate he offered, along with my coffee, and moved into the dining area. Hayden followed with a plate of bacon, a mug of coffee, a jug of syrup, and the butter dish, all balanced precariously between his two hands. I held my breath as he set everything down, impressed that he’d managed not to drop anything.
We each took a seat, taking pancakes and bacon and piling them on the plates Hayden must have set out earlier. I shook my head as he drenched his pancakes in syrup, then dove in, mangling them as he cut his first bite. I, in turn, poured a strip of syrup, then cut a row into bite-sized pieces before lifting one to my mouth.
Hayden watched in amusement. He pointed at the neat rectangle-shaped bites on my plate and said, “You like order and structure. You definitely have a morning routine.”
He wasn’t wrong, and I wouldn’t apologize for it. To my mind, an orderly life was a virtue. I hadn’t had a successful career without structure and discipline. “Is there something wrong with structure in my day?”
“No. Not at all.” He shoved another huge bite into his mouth. “It’s just not how my brain works. Routine and structure are boring, so my brain decides to find something else more interesting, and the next thing I know, I’m twenty minutes late because I decided the books on my shelf need to be arranged by color. Then I notice three of the books are actually overdue library books, so then I have to go through all the books to make sure there aren’t any other ones overdue. But then I can’t remember where I set the first three, so I have to go looking for those, and then, somehow, I lose my car keys in the process.”
