I felt so much better after a warm bath, shower, and the orgasm. I dried myself off and changed, joining Wyatt back in my bedroom. I will miss this apartment when I move in with Wyatt. There is no point in keeping the lease if I won’t use it.

I find Wyatt sitting at the bottom of the bed in his shorts, seeming to be in his own world.

“Wyatt, are you okay?” I laugh.

His head shoots up. “Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts. Yes, I am fine, beautiful.” He smiles.

I stand in front of him. “Are you sure?”

He reaches for my hips and pulls me into his lap. “Yes, I am all good. I promise. I am happy and have everything I need, so why would something be wrong?”

I blush, knowing he is referring to me. He laughs and kisses me softly.

“Me too.”

He briefly hugs me against his chest. “Do you want me to dry your hair?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t,” he replies.

I should have known that would be his answer.

“Thank you.”

“You sit on the bed; I will get the hairdryer,” he says.

“Yes, sir.” I beam and climb off his lap.

I take a seat on the bed and wait for him. He brings the dryer over, drying my hair for me. I close my eyes and enjoy it. I find it relaxing when he does my hair for me. No man has ever taken the time to do this for me. He seems to enjoy it. I genuinely believe it relaxes him, too. He always takes his time and is so gentle.

When he is finished, he asks, “Are you leaving it down, or do you want it braided?”

I glance over my shoulder at him. “I will leave it down tonight. Thank you for doing my hair.”

“No bother, sweetness. I enjoy doing it for you. Ready for sleep?”

I shake my head. “No, I need some food first.”

We had a decent dinner, but I am a little peckish. I don’t know what I want, though, not big, just a snack.

“What would you like? I will go make you it.”

“No, I will get it. You have done enough for me tonight. Would you like anything?”

“No, I am okay, thanks.”

I head to the kitchen to find a snack. I make a cheese and red onion sandwich, and I make Wyatt one, too. If he doesn’t eat it, I will, or I’ll put it in the fridge until tomorrow. I grab some potato chips and two bottles of water. I hate that I eat so much on my period, like everything else that comes along with it isn’t bad enough. I will do an extra workout this week.

When I return to the room, Wyatt is in bed. I climb in next to him and hand him a plate. “I brought you one, anyway.” I snicker.

“Are you trying to make me put on weight?” he chuckles.

“It is one sandwich, don’t be a drama queen.”

“Hey! Now, who is being mean.” He pouts.

I prod his side. “Get over it.”

He flips me off, but after all his complaining, he ends up eating it anyway. I knew he would. I try not to be too smug at knowing him so well. I happily tuck into mine. I really need to stop eating at this time of night. It is not good for me, but food always tastes better late at night, or is that just me?

“What are your thoughts on having a party at my place next weekend? A BBQ, pool party? I can invite my family and friends. You can ask your friends to come along. It would give me a chance to get to know them better since I haven’t had much of a chance?”

He wants to spend time with my friends. Yes, he has met them briefly, but I didn’t think he would want to actually spend a night with them.