Because even though I don’t relish the morning after, apparently Cole does. He’s handsy and goofing around and in such a good mood.
“Oh, lord. Are you a morning person?”
“I started my day with a beautiful woman in my bed and a vigorous run. Wouldn’t you be in a good mood?” He winks at me and my insides melt.
Cole fists the front of my shirt, his shirt, pulling me closer to him, then he presses a gentle kiss to my lips.
“I like this on you.”
“Oh, I couldn’t find my bag.”
Cole releases me with a playful grin.
“I hid it.”
I’m thinking it’s some ploy to keep me naked all day, but Cole walks over to the closet by the front door and pulls out my overnight bag. Darn. Now I’ll have to get dressed.
“Your track record isn’t great for staying put, so I took a precaution this time.”
I can’t really be insulted, so I just take another sip of my coffee.
“Are you hungry?” Cole opens his fridge. “I can make us something here, or we can go out to breakfast?”
“I’m starving, and too lazy to shower.”
“Pancakes?”
“Mmm. Yes, please.”
Cole nods and starts to place items from the fridge onto the counter. I don’t really make pancakes at home, they’re more of an eating out treat, but I don’t recall ricotta cheese or Greek yogurt being ingredients. I thought it was just a box with dry mix and you add water to make the batter. Cole’s version also has a banana and almond flour.
“Are these healthy pancakes?” I ask after he’s got the batter all mixed up.
“They’re good for you if that’s what you mean.” Cole pours batter on the skillet, then sets the bowl down.
“Ugh, but do they taste good or am I going to have to cover them in a whole bottle of syrup?”
Cole just chuckles good-naturedly at my snarky attitude. That’s what I find most fascinating about him. He’s so easygoing with all my moods and antics, only half of which might be the real me, the one not taking hormones in preparation for implantation of Ellie and Josh’s embryo.
I eat my words, along with six of Cole’s fluffy, nutritious and delicious pancakes. The banana makes them taste sweet; I barely use any syrup.
“Where are you putting all those?”
“My vagina. It needs to refuel.”
Cole laughs as I stab another pancake with my fork.
“I mean how many calories does sex burn? And orgasms? As a gyno, I feel like you should know this information.”
We finish breakfast then end up in his walk-in shower together where Cole washes me clean, only to make me dirty again with his skillful fingers. I return the favor by deep-throating his cock and swallowing. I give him a sassy smile when he looks at me with adoration and awe.
We dress and leave Cole’s apartment.
I’m rested, sexually satisfied and well fed, so when Cole reaches for my hand as we walk down 15th Street it doesn’t even phase me. We’re technically still on his date, I suppose, so I’m trying to be accommodating. We walk for a while, checking out the shop windows and wandering with no real destination in mind. Since it’s a beautiful Saturday morning everyone is out. The sidewalks are filled with runners, couples walking their dogs, women walking with yoga mats into the coffee shop.
We rent scooters and ride them on the Cherry Creek trail until I nearly crash into a railing and decide I’m not only a hazard to the public but myself. We stop at REI where Cole looks at camping gear. I browse the women’s clothing section, then remember that there’s no point in looking at tank tops because anything I buy now isn’t going to fit once I get pregnant. We eat a late lunch at Amato’s Alehouse, a brewery that took over an old fountain shop that overlooks downtown. I order a mimosa because it’s Saturday and Cole orders a beer. He’s such a guy. I watch him take a sip. I feel more relaxed with him now than I did at dinner. I feel less on edge, more at ease. The hormonal assault on my body must have decided to take the weekend off. It’s been years since I’ve shared a meal, let alone multiple meals in the same day, with one man.
“So is this how you normally spend a Saturday?” I ask.
