Eventually, Oliver decided he should probably use the bathroom before she stirred awake. Carefully extricating himself from her embrace required considerable effort– every fibre of his being protested leaving this comfortable cocoon. He moved silently across the room to grab his clothes from yesterday from the floor and padded quietly into the attached bathroom.
Once inside the bathroom, Oliver dressed in his wrinkled suit pants and undershirt. He emerged a few minutes later with damp hair combed neatly back from his face, looking significantly more put-together despite the early hour. Returning to the bedroom he found Harper stirring slightly beneath the covers. Her eyes blinked open slowly as consciousness returned, and a sleepy smile touched her lips when they landed on him standing by the bedroom. "Morning," he greeted softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Sleep well?" he sat on the edge of the mattress facing her, one hand coming up to brush strands of hair from her cheek. The morning light caught in her tousled auburn locks, making them shine like spun gold against the white pillows. "You look absolutely radiant when you wake up," he commented quietly, his voice carrying none of its usual corporate stiffness.
"Morning," Harper said sleepily. "I slept amazingly." Oliver's heart gave a funny little leap at her contented smile, pleased beyond measure that he could provide such restful sleep for her. His thumb stroked gently along her jawline as he studied her face in the morning light. "I am glad," he replied sincerely. "You deserve good sleep after working so hard." His gaze flicked briefly toward the alarm clock on her nightstand before glancing back at her with reluctant regret. "Speaking of work though… I should probably head home soon to change before heading into the office." Despite his words, he made no immediate move to stand up. Instead, he lingered near her on the bed, clearly torn between duty and desire to stay wrapped in this peaceful bubble with her for just a little longer.
Harper leaned forward and kissed him. Oliver's breath caught in his throat at the unexpected kiss, his own lips parting instinctively to deepen the connection for a moment, all thoughts of responsibility and schedules vanished completely as he lost himself in the warmth on her mouth. "Now that is how you properly say good morning," she said with a smile. "How about some cereal at least?" when she pulled back with that playful smile, he had to remind himself how to breathe properly. "That is definitely a better greeting than 'good morning'," he agreed with a low chuckle, his hand coming up to cup the back of her neck and keep her close. "A bowl of cereal sounds prefect actually," he admitted, running his thumb along her jawline. "But only if I can sit here and watch you eat it while I pretend, I don't have to be a work in forty-five minutes." His blue eyes held a mixture of amusement and genuine reluctance as he glanced toward the window where daylight was quickly brightening.
"Let me get dressed really quick," Harper said as she stood up from the bed. Oliver's blue eyes followed her movements appreciatively as she rose from the bed, his gaze lingering on her naked form in the morning light. The sight of her stretching languidly sent a familiar spark of desire through him, momentarily overriding his duties as CEO. "Take your time," he said, his voice carrying a hint of roughness that betrayed his internal conflict between business and pleasure. "I don't mind waiting." He leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms over his chest in a pose that was equal parts relaxed and expectant. His blue eyes never left her as she crossed to her wardrobe, admiring the way her body moved with natural confidence. "I should probably call my driver to pick me up," he added reluctantly, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. "But I am finding it incredibly difficult to care about quarterly reports right now."
Harper opens the wardrobe and pulls out a pile of black folded clothes and turn to look at his over her shoulder. "Why don't you make us some coffee before you go?" she asked sweetly before going into the bathroom. Oliver's gaze lingered on her form as she disappeared down the hallway into the bathroom, the black fabric in her hands a stark contrast against her skin. A low chuckle escaped his lips at her sweetly commanding tone. "Coffee? Is that an order or a request?" he pushed himself off the bed with a resigned sigh, though the smile playing on his lips betrayed his amusement. "Fine, but you are buying me lunch today to make up for putting me to work in your apartment." Oliver padded barefoot toward her kitchen. The familiar scent of brewing coffee soon filled the air as he navigated her space with surprising ease. "Don't take too long in there," he called out from the kitchen, his voice carrying easily through the open bedroom door. "Your coffee is going to get cold if you dawdle."
Across the kitchen, Glen's bedroom door is open, showing glimpses of a queen-sized bed, covered by taupe and light brown bedding. A textured beige throw blanket is draped casually across the foot of the bed and against the wall are multiple brown pillows. Glen comes out of his bedroom wearing a bold, fashion-forward matching outfit. He is wearing a short-sleeve, button-up, red and white, silk shirt that is mostly open in the front, revealing his chest. His shirt features an intricate paisley and baroque-style pattern with swirling ornamental shapes. His matching shorts are made from the same patterned fabric, are mid-thigh length and appear loose-fitting and comfortable. "Well, someone is chipper this morning," he commented in a friendly tone. Oliver's head snapped toward Glen's bedroom doorway, his expression shifting from relaxed to startled in an instant. The kettle slipped slightly in his grasp as he recognized the young man standing there in casual clothes.
"Glen," he said, his voice losing its morning warmth and taking on a more formal, guarded tone. "I was not aware you would be here this morning."