XXIII

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I was warm. Too warm.

When I opened my eyes to the light streaming in through the large window, I realised that Spencer Haywood was wrapped around me like a vine and surprisingly enough I'd never been more comfortable.

Then, memories of last night burst to the forefront of my consciousness making my cheeks warm.

We...I...we were....we had...

Spencer grumbled, turning over in his sleep away from me, but with one arm still thrown over my stomach.

I slowly shuffled away from him, making a move to get out of bed. He moaned something indecipherable before settling down once again with a heavy breath.

I couldn't help the huge, idiotic smile that was on my face just watching him sleep and thinking about all the emotions we'd stirred up over the past few months.

Spencer Haywood, my best friend was something I never imagined he would ever be. My boyfriend. My first.

Laughing to myself, I grabbed my panties which were strewn over Spencer's bedside lamp before padding over to the doorway and slipping his discarded shirt over my shoulders.

As his best friend that couldn't cook to save her life I was forbidden from being around Spencer's precious state of the art kitchen equipment. But as his girlfriend? Well, I wanted to make him breakfast in bed.

Leaving the door slightly ajar, I made my way into the living area, the New York skyline once again giving me a glorious and welcome greeting. I felt as if I was on Cloud Nine despite the slight soreness I could feel if I made any sudden movements. I never knew it could be like this or feel this way. No wonder Licia always waxed lyrical about it.

Heat rising to my cheeks again at the thought of a naked Spencer I decided to busy myself with a different task: trying to find my way around Spencer's kitchen and trust me, it was far more complicated than it looked...

Two frying pans and a broken bowl later I was frying bacon for breakfast. I'd decided to go with something simple. Bacon and scrambled eggs with a dollop of ketchup, the grease I knew Spencer would definitely appreciate. So far, I had tried to whisk the eggs in the fluid way that I'd seen Spencer do - holding the bowl out and moving whilst he whisked but that only resulted in a broken bowl which I was surprised and shocked didn't wake him up from his slumber. I moved my focus instead to the bacon. It was simple, just like the pancakes Spencer had whipped up for me on the first morning I stayed here.

Singing a tune I'd heard on the radio, I used one of Spencer's many implements to flip the bacon onto the other side so it would crisp up. This chef thing wasn't difficult! I was really getting the hang of it!

I couldn't stop myself from laughing aloud at the thought of Spencer berating my cooking skills. Take that pretty boy! I would show him. Now, just to get back to those eggs.

Slowly breaking two into a fresh bowl, I fished out the shell with a fork. God, I hated this bit, why didn't Spence tell me it was so difficult? I resolved to go with a simpler whisking method this time, bowl flat on the marble work surface, one hand to hold it still whilst the other whisked gently.

Singing the same tune, I got to work, first anti clockwise then clockwise. I found myself swaying with the bowl to the tune I was creating and the eggs being thoroughly beaten ready for the pan.

Suddenly, two arms went around my waist, a nose buried into my hair and then a soft kiss on the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder.

"Hmm... now that's a glorious sight for a man to wake up to."

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