reach the bottom, it opens up into a large living room. Off to the side I see a massive book shelf that takes up the entire wall. From floor to ceiling I see nothing but books. I find myself drifting towards the books, and I’m sure I have a look of awe on my face. I’ve never seen so many books in someone’s home before. I start running my fingers across the books, and reading their titles. I could stay stay in the room forever and read every single book.
“Have you read all these books?” I ask in wonder.
“No, I have read a few of them, but these were all of my dad’s books. He read them all. He had a slight obsession with reading. When I was a kid he used to read some of these books to me before bed. I remember coming in here, spinning in a circle with my eyes closed, and whatever book my finger landed on was the book we would read. Then we would curl up in that big chair over there and he would read to me until I fell asleep. He had the most animated voice, and I felt like I was actually in the story. I used to pretend I was sailing on a raft with Huck and Jim, hunting for the white whale aboard the Pequod, or casting spells at Hogwarts. I hope to do the same with my kids one day.”
He says this with a sad smile on his face. I can tell he and his dad had a good relationship, and that he misses him terribly. I want to erase the pain on his face, so I do the only thing I can think of. I walk over towards him, place my arms around his neck, and gently put my lips against his, kissing away the sadness. I kiss his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, his neck, until I work my way back to his lips.
“Your dad would be very proud of the man you have become. You are kind, caring, smart, funny, and a whole lot of other adjectives, but I wouldn’t want to name them all and enlarge your ego anymore that it already is.” I give him a playful wink, hoping to lighten his mood a little bit.
He pulls me into a big hug and kissed my forehead. “How did I get so lucky to find you, Peaches? You are perfect.” I blush at his words. Normally hearing things like this makes me uncomfortable, but when it comes from Adam, it feels sincere and just…right. It seems unreal to have the connection Adam and I have.
We finally make our way to the kitchen and Adam has our breakfast laid out on the table.
“Our breakfast is most definitely cold by now, and my cooking sucks ass, but you will just have to suck it up and eat it anyway. I’ve never cooked before, so go easy on me when judging my cooking skills.”
I smile sweetly up at him. “Thank you for cooking for me. I can’t tell you the last time I ate a home cooked breakfast. Most of my meals are takeout.” The pancakes are burnt, and my scrambled eggs look a little runny. I drown the pancakes is syrup, and douse my eggs in ketchup. Hopefully that will block out the burnt taste of my pancakes. I take a bite, chew a few times, and force the pancakes down my throat. I think him getting up and making this meal for me was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done, but he wasn’t kidding when he said his cooking sucks ass. My cooking probably sucks just as bad, so who am I to judge?
“God, this is awful. How are you even eating it right now?” He has a look of disgust on his face, and he is spitting a bite of food into a napkin.
“Oh come on, it's not that bad.”
By the look on my face I know he can tell I’m lying. We both immediately start laughing. He gets up and scrapes our plates into the trash can, and puts the dishes in the sink.
“I did make coffee for you though. I noticed every morning you come to school you have coffee with you. It was my first time using the coffee pot, but I don’t think I screwed it up too badly.” He pours me a cup and sets it in front of me. “Do you like anything in your coffee? My mom has about 20 different flavors of that creamer shit to pour into it.”
“No thank you, I like my coffee strong and black.”
He picks up my coffee and
“Have you read all these books?” I ask in wonder.
“No, I have read a few of them, but these were all of my dad’s books. He read them all. He had a slight obsession with reading. When I was a kid he used to read some of these books to me before bed. I remember coming in here, spinning in a circle with my eyes closed, and whatever book my finger landed on was the book we would read. Then we would curl up in that big chair over there and he would read to me until I fell asleep. He had the most animated voice, and I felt like I was actually in the story. I used to pretend I was sailing on a raft with Huck and Jim, hunting for the white whale aboard the Pequod, or casting spells at Hogwarts. I hope to do the same with my kids one day.”
He says this with a sad smile on his face. I can tell he and his dad had a good relationship, and that he misses him terribly. I want to erase the pain on his face, so I do the only thing I can think of. I walk over towards him, place my arms around his neck, and gently put my lips against his, kissing away the sadness. I kiss his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, his neck, until I work my way back to his lips.
“Your dad would be very proud of the man you have become. You are kind, caring, smart, funny, and a whole lot of other adjectives, but I wouldn’t want to name them all and enlarge your ego anymore that it already is.” I give him a playful wink, hoping to lighten his mood a little bit.
He pulls me into a big hug and kissed my forehead. “How did I get so lucky to find you, Peaches? You are perfect.” I blush at his words. Normally hearing things like this makes me uncomfortable, but when it comes from Adam, it feels sincere and just…right. It seems unreal to have the connection Adam and I have.
We finally make our way to the kitchen and Adam has our breakfast laid out on the table.
“Our breakfast is most definitely cold by now, and my cooking sucks ass, but you will just have to suck it up and eat it anyway. I’ve never cooked before, so go easy on me when judging my cooking skills.”
I smile sweetly up at him. “Thank you for cooking for me. I can’t tell you the last time I ate a home cooked breakfast. Most of my meals are takeout.” The pancakes are burnt, and my scrambled eggs look a little runny. I drown the pancakes is syrup, and douse my eggs in ketchup. Hopefully that will block out the burnt taste of my pancakes. I take a bite, chew a few times, and force the pancakes down my throat. I think him getting up and making this meal for me was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done, but he wasn’t kidding when he said his cooking sucks ass. My cooking probably sucks just as bad, so who am I to judge?
“God, this is awful. How are you even eating it right now?” He has a look of disgust on his face, and he is spitting a bite of food into a napkin.
“Oh come on, it's not that bad.”
By the look on my face I know he can tell I’m lying. We both immediately start laughing. He gets up and scrapes our plates into the trash can, and puts the dishes in the sink.
“I did make coffee for you though. I noticed every morning you come to school you have coffee with you. It was my first time using the coffee pot, but I don’t think I screwed it up too badly.” He pours me a cup and sets it in front of me. “Do you like anything in your coffee? My mom has about 20 different flavors of that creamer shit to pour into it.”
“No thank you, I like my coffee strong and black.”
He picks up my coffee and
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