The Desire Variable | Rewrite

⸻ THIRTY-SIX ⸻

Waking up next to Lex will forever be the best thing ever. How is it even possible to be so happy? How can someone cause so much delight?

I'm awake first, so I can unabashedly ogle him for a moment. I take my time following his features' familiar lines, memorizing them all. He's on his back, the duvet up to his midriff, his powerful upper body exposed to my adoring eyes. I'm lying on the side against him, my head resting on his shoulder, a leg bent over one of his.

The flutters in my chest and belly are unequivocal. I am in love with him, mind, body, and soul. He makes me complete, even though I never realized I was missing something. With him, I'm whole.

When he wakes up a few minutes after me, the satisfaction and delight in his gaze as it meets mine send my heart into a frenzy.

"Hi," I whisper, kissing his shoulder and resting my head there, our eyes still locked.

"Hi."

"I was thinking... I know you have your morning habits, but today feels like a pancake kind of day. Do you want me to make some for you?"

"Mmm, pancakes sound great."

He brings me against his warm body before seeking my lips again. We kiss for a moment, tenderly and lazily. I eventually push myself away from him to get on with my objective.

"Okay, just stay here, and I'll take care of breakfast."

He mumbles something that sounds like an agreement, and I sit on the side of the bed. Because I'm terrible at resisting my impulses when it comes to him, I twist, grab his face, and drop a series of quick but intense pecks on his lips.

He reaches out for me to get more, but I swiftly move away from his greedy hands and get out of bed. I snatch his discarded shirt and slip it on. Once at the door, I turn around and see him rolling on his stomach to hug the pillow under his head, ready to get back to sleep.

On my way to the kitchen, I stretch my arms and back, feeling less sore than I usually do after a night with him. Is my body getting used to him? I'm more flexible now, even.

I cook us a feast worthy of our nocturnal performance. We have pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, toast, smoothies I made from scratch, coffee is brewing, and I also make a fruit salad. In the household I grew up in, food is a significant way to express affection, a love language in itself. This succulent breakfast is my love letter to Lex, my way to repay him for the best night of my life. For all the best nights of my life, actually.

I'm just done putting everything on a gigantic tray when I see him come into the living area, only wearing a pair of light gray sweatpants. Damn, that very visible bulge in there is incredibly appealing. And the set of abs above is just as tantalizing, the deep V at his hip pointing straight to his tempting crotch.

I'm so stunned by the vision he offers that it takes me a few seconds to realize my breakfast-in-bed plan is ruined.

"I told you to stay there," I remind him with a pout.