Sex & Pancakes

by Kelli Evans

  The sunlight streamed in through the window, making her skin warm and there was a comfortable weight across her stomach. She sighed and snuggled back against something big, strong, and enveloping. She noticed something hard poking her in the ass. For a split second, she considered turning around and doing something about that but just as quick as the thought crossed her mind, it left and was replaced with slight annoyance.

  “Mierda!” she cursed under her breath, opening her eyes just to immediately close them again. Why did he sleep over? She much preferred waking up alone. Oscar had never slept over. She took a deep breath and started to slide out from under his arm. He stirred and mumbled something. She froze and darted her gaze to his face.

  God, he was even better looking in the morning. How is that possible? He was still sleeping peacefully, and his long lashes brushed his upper cheeks. His lips were slightly open and inviting. His short beard looked even sexier today and it made the subsequent burn on the inside of her thighs tingle. She shook her head. Hadn’t she gotten enough of that last night?

  She slid out the rest of way and landed on all fours with a thud on her bedroom floor. She peeked over the bed to make sure he was still sleeping. He was out cold but had flopped to his back. The sheet wasn’t covering much of him. She could see more of the tattoos on his left arm in the sunlight. It looked like a battle scene right out of Star Wars. It was all in black and gray, except a bright burst of green from Luke Skywalker’s light saber. Roz wanted to crawl back up and lick it.

  His soft stomach rose and fell with each breath. There was a swirling of dark hair leading down from his bellybutton to under the sheet and she really wanted to follow it. She licked her lips, thinking about what she could be doing to him right now.

  Butterflies swirled in her stomach at the thought of giving him a proper wake up. Could she really still be craving his cock when it had been inside her just hours ago? Part of her started crawling back up on the bed before she remembered she was annoyed he’d stayed over at all.

  Roz shook her head, landed back on the floor, and looked for clothes to put on. She spotted a T-shirt next to an empty water bottle and a discarded tennis shoe. She really should pick this place up.

  After throwing the shirt on, she stood and tiptoed out of the room. When the door clicked shut behind her, she exhaled loudly. What now? There was a pair of jeans slung over the back of couch that she grabbed and tugged on. Spotting her phone on the counter, she snatched it up and turned on the home screen.

  Seven missed calls? What the fuck?

  Grabbing one of her flats, she slid it on her foot while listening to the missed messages. She found the other flat under a throw pillow on her couch. Her work had called and needed her to come in as soon as she could. Something had happened with a case she had been stressing over for the last few months. There had been a stream of break-ins lately, mostly targeting the elderly. In one instance an eighty-two-year-old man had been so shocked at the sight of someone in his house in the middle of the night, he had fatally fallen down the stairs.

  There had been different descriptions given of who may be responsible, but Roz was getting it narrowed down. It made her so thankful she lived in the apartment above her parent’s garage. She could be there for them in less than a minute. She desperately wanted this case solved so the family of the older man could get peace and the other elderly folks in town could sleep better at night.

  After sliding her phone into the front pocket of her jeans, she snagged a pen off the counter and an old receipt, which she flipped over and scrawled a note on. She grabbed her keys and wallet before making a quiet exit.

  As she came down the stairs, she heard her parents talking. She halted her steps and flattened herself against the side of the garage. It was Sunday. They must be heading to church.

  “Should we go see if Rozalyn wants to come with us?” she heard her dad’s raspy voice ask and she panicked a little bit. She ran her fingers through her thick hair to tame it down and rubbed away excess eyeliner from under her eyes. She regretted not pausing long enough to grab a bra. She had a locker at work with extra clothes and she had been hoping to sneak out of there, quickly and undetected.

  “No, no, she was up late last night having a good time. I don’t want to bother her.” Roz sent up a quick prayer of thanks for her mom being so awesome. If only she knew what kind of good time she had been having.

  Not that her parents weren’t progressive with the times, but she really didn’t want to run into them doing the walk of shame out of her own apartment. She certainly wasn’t being guilted into church today either.

  “Vamos, Mamà.” Her mother wheeled her grandmother’s chair out the door to the car.

  Yeah, she was definitely not letting her grandma see her like that. She would have too many questions and sarcastic remarks. She was a feisty old woman whom Roz loved dearly but sometimes avoidance was better than dealing with it head-on. Kind of like the situation upstairs she was already running from.

  Their car started up, and Roz peeked around the corner to see it backing out of the driveway toward the right and head off to the church. As soon as their station wagon was out of sight, Roz darted out and jumped into her Jeep, heading in the opposite direction toward the police station.

  Chapter 6

  Patrick

  PATRICK opened his eyes, immediately disappointed. He’d been having a phenomenal dream about breakfast. “I don’t smell pancakes.” Patrick rolled out of bed, taking the sheet with him. He grinned to himself, imagining Roz and breakfast…even if it was cereal. He padded along the carpeted floor, stepping through warm streams of light out into the open living space. “Roz?” No answer.

  He had to piss before he looked much further. He walked back the way he came and tossed the sheet into the bedroom. He headed into the small bathroom and kicked aside the clothes spilling from her hamper.

  Holding himself up by the wall, he emptied his bladder, flushed, lowered the lid, and washed his hands. He caught his reflection in the mirror over the sink. His hair was a tousled mess, his face stained with her lipstick, his shoulders looked as if he’d been mauled by a tiger, and she’d left a bruise in the shape of a bite mark just above his man nipple.

  He granted his reflection a cocky smirk. “Roz?” he called again into her space. He checked every foot of her tiny apartment and found himself obviously alone.

  A quick glance out the window above the sink in her kitchen gave him a perfect view of the drive. No one was home.

  There were clothes strewn all over the place, abandoned glasses here and there, but the kitchen was spotless. His gaze was drawn to the only piece of clutter on her countertops.

  He picked up the receipt and read the script.

  Had to run. Got called in.

  Lock up when you leave.

  —R

  No pancakes. No repeats. No thanks-I-had-a-great-time. Not his best morning-after.

  Although not the worst.

  Patrick showered, redressed, and though he wanted to tidy her house, he just locked the door on his way out. His truck was still parked across the street. His first stop of the day was Chase’s house.

  Dexter and Hexley met him at the door. They were bespectacled, long haired, feral four-year-olds who were much too cool for their age.

  “What up?” Patrick sing-songed and raised the rebel-horns at them.

  “Uncle Patrick!” They leaped on him, one swinging from a bicep like a chimpanzee and the other wrapped around his leg like a boa constrictor.

  Patrick curled Hex and dragged Dex through the doorway. “Delivery!” Patrick called into the house.

  “We don’t want any!” Estelle answered from Chase’s lap on the couch.

  “You made ‘em, you keep ‘em.”

  Estelle fake groaned at that and peeled herself from her husband.

  “Uncle Patrick, do you want to see our new light sabers?”

  Patrick guffawed. “Do I wan
t to—boys…” Patrick eased Hex to the floor and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal his totally nerdy tattoos of which the only color was a glowing green light saber. “I’m all about the Jedi-life. Yes, go get them. Bring them to me!”

  “You’re going to love them. They’re so cool.” Hex booked it upstairs.

  “I’ll go get mine too!” Dex unwound himself from around Patrick’s calf. “Be right back! Don’t move.”

  Patrick laughed after them. Kids were fun. Too bad he wasn’t one anymore.

  “I take it you’re here for breakfast?” Estelle called from the other room.

  “What’s on the menu, sweet cheeks?” He winked at Chase, who rolled his eyes.

  “Your head if you call me that one more time.”

  “Perfect.” Patrick nudged Chase in the ribs. “Are you going to ask me before the impressionable children are back in the room?”

  “Ask you what?” Chase leaned forward, grabbing the console controller and scrolling through TV and movie options to stream.

  “Ask me about my night with Roz.” Patrick playfully bit his fist. Pretending if he didn’t tell Chase right away, he might burst—that wasn’t actually pretending.

  Dutifully, Chase asked, “How was hanging out with Roz last night?”

  “She couldn’t resist my charms, man. What can I say? She was…she’s wild. I swear on all that is holy she screwed me within an inch of my life. I think I’m raw, man.”

  “You’re full of shit.” Chase propped his feet up on the coffee table.

  “Do you want me to prove it?” Patrick moved for his zipper.

  Chase didn’t stop him.

  “You think I’m kidding?”

  Chase shrugged.

  “Why? Because you didn’t get any prom booty?”

  Chase glanced toward the kitchen.

  “Oh, she’s totally eavesdropping. She’s got better hearing than the Ferengi. Right, Elle?”

  Estelle peaked out from around the corner. “Do you come by just to rile me up?”

  Patrick grinned and hit Chase in the stomach with a heavy backhand. “Chase is always telling me how much he likes you all riled up. What are bros for?”

  Estelle’s cheeks pinkened and she shot Chase a smoldering look before she sashayed back into the kitchen.

  “Wait, Elle, come back.”

  She did.

  “Okay, jokes aside, I had a great time with Roz last night. The sex was phe-nom-en-al…But I woke up and she’d bailed, just a note, didn’t even nudge me awake.”

  “Do you like her?”

  “He had it bad for her in high school.”

  Patrick lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug. “It was high school. That was a long time ago. But just so you know, our boy here, totes, knew that when he took her to prom.”

  Chase threw his hands up at him. What the hell?

  “I don’t know. I keep having these one-night stands and I think I’m too old for it. It’s just been weird getting back out there since Sylvia—”

  “We know, man.” Chase actually sounded sincere, for as much shit as Patrick was giving him this morning. “Things getting any easier seeing Sylvia and Steve, you know, all happily married and hugely pregnant at work all the time?”

  “Oh yeah, nothing I love more than getting it shoved in my face every day that I got dumped for your garden-variety gym teacher Adonis. At least I get paid to be tortured like that. It’s whatever but I just want—well, I think everyone just wants what you two have. Hashtag goals as fuck.”

  “Patrick.” Estelle swooned and clutched a spatula to her chest.

  “We do have it all, don’t we, babe?” Chase’s grin was too cocky.

  Estelle’s gaze went full-on Antarctic. “As long as you’re not going to sit there acting jealous over Patrick getting with this woman you cock-blocked him from in high school.”

  Patrick laughed and pointed at Chase because he’d successfully gotten him in trouble, and it was good for guys who have it all to pay karmic dues for it every once in a while.

  “Babe, I’m not jealous. I ended up with you. How could I be jealous?” Chase motioned up and down the length of her. Estelle was hot if you liked petite pixie women, who threw that whole librarian vibe, and could rock a pair of cut-offs like nobody’s business. It wasn’t just a line, or Chase trying to save his own ass. She was a good fit for his friend, and Patrick really did want what they had.

  “Shit. The biscuits and gravy.” Estelle dashed back into the kitchen.

  “Dang it!” Patrick threw up his hands. “I had a premonition of pancakes.”

  “You could go home and cook yourself breakfast,” she called out.

  “Patrick? She’s going to kill us both.”

  “Nah. Don’t worry about it. And if she does, let’s hope it’s with sex, though, right? No better way to die, than by succubi is what I always say.”

  “Bus. Succubus. Succubi would be plural, wouldn’t it? There’s only one Estelle.”

  “What? No. I know. But succubus doesn’t rhyme with die.”

  The boys bounded back down the stairs with cool-ass legit-looking light sabers in tow. As a kid, Patrick had had to fabricate his own out of a flashlight, colored lens, and a wrapping paper tube. Oh, what a time to be alive.

  Chapter 7

  Roz

  ROZ walked into Hannah’s house a few nights later, dropping her blazer and wallet onto the bench by the front door.

  “Hey!” she called out, stepping into the modest living room. The TV was on, but Hannah was nowhere to be seen.

  “In here!” Hannah called from around the corner.

  Hannah was in the kitchen at the island counter, making dinner. Even though she lived alone, she was always cooking something.

  “You here for dinner?”

  Roz shook her head “Nah, I’m headed home to have empanadas.” Her mom and grandma were probably in the process of making them as she spoke. She loved being able to still have home-cooked dinners with her family. On nights she didn’t work late she would often be in the kitchen, helping and sampling.

  “Yummy. I’m making chicken soup.” Hannah cut up carrots, celery, and onions and threw them into a large stock pot on the stove.

  “You’re making enough to last a month.” Roz laughed, snatching up a baby carrot and biting into it.

  “Exactly.” Hannah smiled, stirring it all together with a big wooden spoon. It smelled heavenly. “I’m making extra for the new neighbor a few houses down. She’s a single mom with a couple of kids.” Hannah shrugged nonchalantly. “I thought it would be nice to welcome her to the neighborhood.”

  Roz arched an eyebrow. “Is that all? Are you sure you don’t have ulterior motives?”

  Hannah shrugged again, a light blush staining her cheeks. “Whatever.” She turned her gaze on Roz. “What’d you do with the rest of your Saturday? Did you go straight home or…?”

  Roz laughed, letting Hannah off the hook. “I came home. Had some company over.”

  “Don’t play coy with me.” Hannah pointed a carrot at her. “And?”

  “And…I had Patrick come over where I greeted him half-naked and rode him all night long.” Her butterflies danced again.

  Hannah half screamed before slapping her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God! Really?” Roz nodded and smirked. “Tell me everything!”

  “I just did.”

  “Oh, stop it. I want details, woman! How was it? Was it amazing?” Hannah rambled off, her eyes twinkling.

  Roz laughed. “It was something else, that’s for sure.”

  “What does that mean?” Hannah’s brows furrowed. “Was it not good? Did he come too quick?” She had a sympathetic tone to her voice now.

  Roz shook her head. “No, quite the opposite. It was possibly the best sex of my life.”

  Was that right? She hadn’t really thought about it in terms like that until now but saying it out loud she knew it was true. It ha
d never been like that with any other guy—ever. Not that she had been having bad sex her whole life but the night with Patrick had been something else, something she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.

  “Wait! What?” Hannah’s eyes were wide open again.

  “Yeah, I’m sure it’s because I was buzzing pretty good, I mean, anything would have felt good then, right?” Roz mused, trying to convince herself. “Plus, I was wanting something new and he was…something new.” Yeah, that made sense. She was sure she remembered it wrong anyway. She had been drinking and horny. She wasn’t sure she wanted to give him the credit of best sex, yet. “It was a drunken one-night stand, and that’s it.” She sliced her hands through the air. “I haven’t seen or heard from him since Saturday morning anyway.”

  Hannah’s eyebrows shot up. “He spent the night?”

  “By the time we passed out I’m sure it was already morning. I got called into work so I left before he woke up.”

  “You mean you snuck out like a chicken.” Roz ducked her head a little in mock shame at Hannah successfully calling her out. “Sounds like more than a one-night stand. You called it the best sex of your life and he spent the night. Maybe you should test it out.” Hannah shrugged.

  “Test what out?”

  “If it was just one really good night or if it was more. Hook up again, a little soberer this time and see if it was a fluke or not.”

  Maybe that wasn’t the worst idea. She wouldn’t mind hooking up again with him that was for sure. Did she really want to see if it was a fluke or not, though?

  Did she want this to go further?

  What if it was not as good as she remembered and then the memory was tainted?

  Hannah waved a hand in front of her face. “Don’t overthink it, just go have great sex.”

  Roz nodded, liking the idea. “What about you? How’d the rest of your Saturday night go?”

  Hannah shook her head. “Nah.”

  “Really? It looked so promising.”