"Well don't you look lovely?" Christian teases as I trudge into the kitchen.
It's nine a.m. and he's already dressed in a pair of flattering jeans and a dress shirt. I'm still in my
pajamas, the cable knit matching sweater and shorts making my already messy morning hair
staticky.
I mumble and steal his coffee cup, taking one small sip and nearly spitting it out before forcing it
back down. My whole body shivers in disgust, but I know my brain fog will clear any minute
now.
I hate coffee.
"We can't all be the sexist person alive," I say grumpily.
Christian stands with a smile and wraps his arms around my waist, placing a soft kiss on my
cheek.
"You are to me," he says before the doorbell Interrupts us.
"Are you going to change?" he asks walking to the foyer.
"Nope!" I call
