You're Not What I Was Expecting To Find

Once she had shut her bedroom door, Charlotte turned around and leaned against it. She breathed slowly as she felt the blush on her cheeks die a little. She listened as Matt climbed onto the couch and fell asleep. She quickly changed into her pyjamas and crawled into her bed. Sighing, she smiled up at the ceiling. Her thoughts ran through her day, starting in the restaurant. She never knew that anything could have led to what she had experienced tonight. She sat up suddenly and looked down at her frumpy pyjama pants and old t-shirt. What would he think when he saw her like this tomorrow morning? Would he think she was too innocent for him? Would he think she was frumpy? Scared of him, even?

Panicked, she jumped up to riffle through her lingerie drawer. She found very little. Some things were from her ex-boyfriends, some from her girlfriends, and some even from her mom. She finally decided on a thin silky nightgown and slipped into it. The material was cold against her skin and she shivered as she climbed into bed. She lay on her back again and stared at the ceiling. Sighing, she did not feel the same euphoria as she had before.

The next morning Charlotte stretched and yawned as the light coming through her window woke her up. Glancing at the clock on her bedside table, she noted she had enough time to be lazy this morning to get ready. But then she remembered that Matt was in her living room and she suddenly stilled, attempting to hear any noise that would indicate he was awake. When she heard nothing, she slipped soundlessly from her bed and straightened her nightgown. Frowning as she shivered, she tiptoed all the way to her bedroom door before she realized how stupid she was acting. This was her apartment, so why was she sneaking around?

Standing straight, Charlotte opened her bedroom door, expecting to see Matt still sprawled on her couch. But what got instead was an amazing smell which seemed to be coming from her kitchen. Suddenly becoming curious, she forgot about her outfit as she walked toward the kitchen. What she found gave her another surprise. Matt stood at a hot stove, one she had rarely ever used, stirring something that was giving off that amazing smell. She smiled and leaned against the doorway, getting lost in a sudden daydream.

Matt sensed eyes on his movement and he twisted his body to look behind him. He smiled at Charlotte and hid the sudden shot of lust that swept through him as he saw what she was wearing. He watched her push herself away from the doorway as he turned himself around properly, setting the spatula on the counter beside him. When she had finally gotten close enough he used both his large hands to grip her waist and pull her close.

“Morning,” he breathed before he pressed his lips to her. She melted against him and slid her hands up his broad chest to grip his shoulders as her knees went weak. Pulling away slowly, Charlotte was set back on her feet.

“Good morning,” she smiled. She watched his eyes roam from her eyes to her bare feet and back again before he grinned.

“I like the outfit.”

Charlotte grinned back and blushed lightly before she snapped back to reality. They had only met the night before and she already felt like she had known him for years. She deliberately turned around to walk over to the small table she had bought just a couple weeks ago and sat down, legs crossed tightly.

Matt turned back to the stove, but not before Charlotte saw the look on his face. Disappointment was there, but it was mostly confusion. Her affections toward him had turned so suddenly. But they barely knew each other, she reasoned. They had been acting like they had known each other their entire lives, and had done way more than a few kisses. And why did she decide you wear this ridiculous nightgown? She was freezing.

Crossing her arms, she stared down at the scarred surface of the wood just as a plate was slid under her nose. “I hope you don’t mind,” he told her as she looked up to meet his eyes, “I went out early and picked up some groceries. Then I thought I would make you breakfast.” Then he smiled as he sat down himself, dimples showing themselves without shame.

Charlotte looked down at the omelette he had cooked for her. “No, I appreciate it. I haven’t had a hot breakfast in I don’t even know how long.”

“After I saw the contents of your fridge last night, I kind of figured.”

“I haven’t been home much lately,” she said, feeling the need to explain herself.

“Where have you been?” he asked.

“Working,” she told him. And it was the truth. Charlotte had worked every day for the past two weeks. She had her own shifts, but she picked up her friend’s shifts, and asked if there were any extras. With all of those, her schedule had been full. But that left her little time to go grocery shopping, let alone cook a meal and sit down to eat. When her shift was over, she just wanted a shower and her bed. She glanced at the fridge and then at her plate. He had cared enough to go out and buy the ingredients to cook her breakfast.