Shape of You (+18)

Chapter Nine

▬▬▬▬Marley's POV▬▬▬▬

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. It was right by my head, at the edge of my pillow, left there last night. Rubbing my eyes as they adjusted to the morning light flooding the pale blue room, I picked it up, placing it to my ear and answering.

"Hello?"

My voice was still groggy from sleep, so I tried clearing my throat to help me sound less like a fifty year old habitual smoker, and more like myself.

"Good morning, darling," a voice, smooth as butter greeted, putting a lazy smile on my face...until I saw what time it was.

"Joel, what the hell are you doing calling me this early?" I gasped, my eyes fixed on my alarm clock, frowning at the numbers.

"It's almost nine, Marley," he chuckled. "I just dropped Everly off at school, so I'm all yours for the day. Thought I'd call you, but if now's not a good time..."

Sighing at my morning crankiness, I stopped him. "No, no, I'm just a bitch in the morning," I said, making him laugh. "Come on by whenever, I'll make breakfast. Have you eaten yet?"

"I actually have, but I can always eat," he shared, his tone making me think he meant something else entirely.

Giggling softly, I replied, "Good. I'll see you soon, then."

"Yes, ma'am."

Ending the call, I sat up in bed, taking a moment to stretch out my stiff bones before walking over to my closet and slipping on a black, oversized t-shirt, that fell just above my mid-thigh. Rolling on grey knee-length socks, to provide my legs some warmth, I went to my bathroom to freshen up a bit. I'd take a shower later, before we left for the day.

After brushing my teeth, and pulling my light brown hair into a messy bun at the nape of my neck, I went to the kitchen and started whipping up my best breakfast dish. A cheesy steak omelette. I had yet to meet someone that didn't like it when I served it to them, with the exception of my old friend, Hannah, that had just gone vegetarian and I wasn't made aware when I made it for her. The 'anti-animal abuse' lecture that brought me was enough to cause any sane person to drive straight off a cliff. Or throw her off one.

I had just started brewing coffee when someone knocked on my door. The doorbell was broken, so my red door was taking a lot of beatings lately. Peeking through the peephole, I opened it up with a smile.

"Come on in."

Leading the way, I gestured for Joel to have a seat at my kitchen counter. There wasn't a dining space, so all I had was a kitchen bar, but it worked since it was just for me, and I normally ate on my living room couch.

"It smells good in here," Joel commented, and I bit my lip in pride.

"Thank you."

"Mmhm...looks good, too," he commented.

"You haven't even seen it yet," I laughed, turning to look at him, only to catch his gaze glued to the spot my backside previously was. "Oh."

Smirking, he looked up to my face. "I'm sure the food looks good, too, darling."

Blushing, I plated our food and brought it over to him.

"I like it when you call me that," I admitted, keeping my eyes on the plate in front of me. It was true. Whenever that little term of endearment rolled off his talented lips, it was like a shot of adrenaline to my sexual appetite.

"Call you what?"

"Darling."

"Well, I like calling you that," he smiled, taking a bite of the omelette. "Damn, Marley. What are you doing waitressing when you can cook like this?"