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     Bliss had just finished visiting William- well, delivering him coffee, because she needed to apologize for being so brash before, and now she was on her way back to her own room. 

     ──and though she was planning on going back to sleep, she was guzzling her own 16 ouncer of double espresso. 

And then she passed Dean’s room. Open door, and hell if it didn’t fit like an open invitation. She waited until the cleaning cart was well down the hall before the knocked lightly on the door, leaning against the frame. 

     “ And she didn’t even bother closing the door. How courteous. You sure know how to pick ‘em, Dean. ”

It was just Dean’s luck that it’d be Bliss who would appear while he was in his current predicament: vulnerable, very naked, and a bit spent from a night full of fucking. Of course that didn’t mean that he was without a sense of humor, sending a smile her way as he greeted her.

     ❝You didn’t exactly complain when I picked you.❞           ❝Or did you pick me? I can’t remember right now.❞

For whatever reason, he somewhat clung to the bright white sheet that was barely covering him as he made no attempt to get out of bed. Why? Who knows. Bliss was very familiar him. All of him. She’d familiarized herself with him once or two or more times. Good times.

     ❝Maybe she had to get home. Or to work.❞           Not all that bothered, he shrugged his naked shoulders.

     “Uh-huh, whatever you say Casanova.” She called out over her shoulder to him as she headed to the door and to collect her room service.   A smirk indicating she was just trying to wind him up was visible on her face, although hidden from him as her back was turned to the bed.  

   Once she had the warm, delicious smelling plate of heaven in her hands, she nearly skipped over to him, finally closing the distance between the two.  Sitting herself on the end of his bed without a second thought, she grinned, excited at the prospect of warm syrup and melted butter.  

   “I was tempted to say that you could watch me eat it, then.  But I’m feelin’ generous today.”  Her eyes nearly lit up as she took the metal cover off of the plate, breathing in the smells that drifted up from the plate.  She could see steam still rising off the food and was very impressed.  

“I call dibs on this half.” she proclaimed eagerly, sticking her fork into it, and tempted to just eat it whole, rather than cutting it up.”

There was no disappointment in his bright blue gaze when she made her way closer to his bed, taking a very welcome seat on the foot’s edge. While he’d been attracted from the get-go, she’d damn near charmed that lone sheet off of him with little to no effort on her part. They’d only been talking for a handful of minutes and they were already sharing a meal. Life was strange.

     ❝Your generosity warms my heart,❞ he said, dramatically.

Admittedly, he had the same reaction as her when she removed the cover over the food and let the sweet, fresh, and hot smell of breakfast fill the air between them. The smell and the sight of it only made the sounds coming from his empty stomach that much louder. A man of his size would need more than half to be sated, but he could always get more food later.

     ❝Dibs on the bigger half, I see?❞            ❝I suppose I should’ve expected that.❞

     Her eyes began to roam the room, taking in the small differences between his and her’s.  They were minute, inconsequential.  Although, her eyes finally rested on the pair of briefs only a few feet in front of her.  She cocked a brow as she raised her head to look at him once more as if to say ‘and what are these doing here?’

   “You seem like a class act, my friend.” 

   She wasn’t judging, she had her fair share of nights such as the one he was piecing together for her.  As she was about to continue her teasing, she heard the squeaking of a cart once more, and she was convinced.  This had to be her food, didn’t it?  And as the smell of french toast wafted down the hall way, her suspicions were confirmed.

   “Well I’m assumin’ if you didn’t know her name, you certainly didn’t offer her breakfast and after all that hard–” she stressed the word “–work you put in, you must be hungry.–Like French Toast?”

Dean was nothing less than amused by this entire situation. What he thought had started as a bit of a disappointment seemed to turn into something of a plus. He’d practically woken up to another pretty stranger, different from the one he’d fallen asleep next to, and she had the sharpest tongue he’d thus far encountered in that lodge. Good times.

     ❝In my defense, I was going to offer her some breakfast — ❞           ❝ — she just happened to make her walk of shame earlier than anticipated.❞

Her emphasis on hard hadn’t been lost on him, but he chose to ignore that for now. There were more important things for him to concentrate on and it started and ended with her mention of French Toast. As if his stomach had heard her, he felt that familiar emptiness within, and a growling loud enough that she might hear it, too.

     ❝As a matter of fact I do,❞ he answered, smirking.

        She had thought of a joke as soon as the words left her lips, and she had been tempted to repeat it.  Something along the lines of covering him in whipped cream and powdered sugar. Years ago, the words would’ve slid right from her lips, but she was different now.  She needed to be careful of what she said and to who.  She was here for a reason, after all, and it was most definitely not to make a scene.

   “Not both?  Well, now I’m really disappointed.” She teased gently. “I made you out to be a real lothario.”

   She had to admit, she was more than a bit jealous of the man’s seemingly carefree attitude, of his night, or rather, nights of fun.  It had felt like much too long since Talulah had one of those nights for herself.

   “Would it be too forward to say I ain’t too sad she didn’t?  Menage-a-trois or not.”  She stuttered slightly on the French, her accent mangling the beautiful language, but a mischievous smirk stayed put on the brunette’s face.

Dean could only shrug those bare, broad shoulders of his at her disappointment. As much as he’d like to please everyone, he knew that you just couldn’t and that it was really worth all the drama to try. Even still, he was sad to disappoint someone as attractive as her.

      ❝It’s been a slow week,❞ he said, defending himself.

When you were as bare as he was right then, it was hard to hide a blush. At her compliment, he could only smile as he kept his bright eyes on her, much less subtle now as he took her in from head to toe. Her mischievous grin was enough permission for him to do so.

     ❝Stop it, I’m blushing,❞ he added, smirking back.