“You don’t strike me as someone who’d have a cat,” I finally said. “Especially not someone named Mr. Mittens.”
She waved a paw at me. “He’s wearing mittens, what else was I supposed to name him?”
We both burst out laughing, startling the cat who jumped off Grace’s lap and stalked away.
“How about a movie?” Grace suggested. “Something mindless?”
“Sounds good.”
We scrolled through until we found a movie we both liked, then Grace lowered the lights and we hunkered down on the couch. After a bit we moved a little closer, then a little closer still, until Grace put her arm over my shoulder and I snuggled into her side, resting my hand on her thigh.
“This is nice,” I said softly.
I felt the movement of her nodding. “Yeah, a nice break after this week. I swear to God I know it’s only nine o’clock, but I could go to bed right now.”
I sat up. “Oh, I’m sorry, I should go.”
Grace grabbed my hand. “Or you could stay.”
My eyes searched hers. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Yeah but I think I’m going to need to actually sleep. I’m not sure I have the energy for anything else.”
I laughed. “Oh good, because if you needed me to do anything more than just lay there, I was going to be out.”
We turned off the television and headed to the bedroom, walking hand in hand, while I tried not to think about how comfortably domestic this entire night had been.
My last thought before I fell asleep was that I wished we could do this every night.
I woke up to find Grace laying on my arm, one leg flung over mine, one hand cupping my breast. Her face was soft and relaxed in sleep, and if I didn’t need to use the facilities I would have enjoyed watching her for as long as I could. Unfortunately, my bladder wasn’t on board.
Gently I slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom across the hall. There was an en-suite, but for some reason I felt weird using it while Grace was sleeping. Once I’d finished taking care of my needs and brushing my teeth with the toothbrush I kept in my purse, I headed into the kitchen in search of coffee.
I was rooting around in a cabinet when Grace walked in, her curly blonde hair a riotous mass of messy curls.
“What are you looking for?” she asked, leaning against the counter with a huge yawn.
“Coffee,” I said, closing the cabinet. “Sorry if I woke you up.”
“It’s no problem, this is later than I usually sleep.”
She stretched, linking her hands overhead, and the hem of her shirt lifted, revealing the taut skin of her belly. I forgot all about coffee.
Oblivious to my lascivious thoughts, Grace walked around me to the fancy coffee machine, pressed a button, then grabbed a cup and put it underneath right before hot coffee started coming out.
As soon as it finished, she handed me the cup, then slid a second cup into the machine and re-started it.
“There’s cream and sugar around here somewhere if you want it.”
I shook my head. “Black is good.”
While her coffee brewed, Grace moved around the kitchen, filling Mr. Mittens’ food bowl and replacing his water.
“He only likes fresh water,” she confided. “I have to change the bowl at least twice a day or he gets cranky.”
As if he’d heard his name, Mr. Mittens lumbered in, heading towards his bowl. He sniffed his food, then meowed loudly.
“It’s not time for your fish yet, Mr. Mittens, you know the rules.”
