We enjoyed a decadent Saturday morning brunch at the Caribbean restaurant: fresh buttery cornbread, pulled pork, corn grits, greasy chorizo, and scrambled egg soft tacos. Now we lie in bed, lounging in fresh sheets and an afternoon sunbeam, our minds bubbling with the lingering buzz of mimosa and dreaming of the boundless possibilities for our day. The gardenia and balsam fir candles waft calming scents through the room, warm the carpet, and set the mood.
He cuddles me, I cuddle back. We roll over. I rub his butt in seduction, and then we hold each other close. Consciousness fades.
We wake up two hours later, groggy and confused.
Me: I thought we were going to have sex.
We fall back to sleep.