Dogs.

Yes.

Pretty, dainty, haughty gray cats?

No.

Semi-meeting Axl’s cat, and knowing he was a cat person made me feel like I felt when I first woke up.

Comfy and snuggly.

I sat up in Axl’s ridiculously comfortable bed.

I’d become somewhat acquainted with his bedroom last night after he’d kissed me silly on his couch.

Just kissing, no feeling up, no liberties taken (not, after he started kissing me, that those liberties wouldn’t be freely given).

But lots …

And lots …

Of delicious kissing.

Once he’d decided we were done with that (regrettably), he led me to his bedroom, gave me one of his tees to sleep in, then he took me to his bathroom, unearthed a toothbrush still in its wrapper and pulled out his toothpaste.

He told me to “sleep well” and “call out if you need anything,” and then he bent in, kissed my neck, gave me a smile and left me.

I’d been too dreamy from his kisses, and maybe too sleepy from the late night, to take in much of his bedroom at that time.

I took it in now.

He decorated like me, without the shocks of color. White walls. Wooden blinds painted gray. Some lighter gray floor-length curtains at the sides. A bedspread of white with nuanced shades of gray checks.

The outlier to the gray and white was the furniture.

A modern, boxy black leather chair sat in the corner, with an ottoman and a chrome standing lamp that had a dome shade. The chair was covered in cargos, tees and my clothes.

There was also a black six-drawer dresser. And the bed frame was black, as were the nightstands. The lamps on the nightstands were chrome.

Though what caught my attention was that the only thing on his dresser was a shadow box, triangular black frame, holding a folded American flag.

That didn’t bode well.

I went to throw the covers off in order to get out of bed when I saw a piece of notepaper on the pillow beside me.

Knowing it was from Axl, I snatched it up.

Classily, but surprisingly, it was heavy stock and had a dark monogram at the top that told me his full initials were ASP.

I wondered what his middle name was. At the same time, I thought I didn’t know anyone who had monogrammed notepaper. And on top of that, I saw he had small, precise handwriting.

I thought all this, but I didn’t think on it much.

I read the note.

Hattie∼

 You’re even adorable when you sleep.

Oh man.

I loved he thought that.

And I was glad, when he saw me sleeping, I wasn’t drooling or snoring or anything else equally mortifying.

Make yourself at home. If you don’t know how to use it, the Nespresso machine should be self-explanatory. If you have trouble, call. Cisco dropped your bag this morning. It’s on the kitchen counter.

Oh my God.

My purse!

I’d totally forgot, I left it in Brett’s car.

Brett brought it around.

He was so nice too.

Everyone around me (outside my stalker, and, as usual, my dad) was just so nice.

When you’re ready, let me know and me or one of the guys will be there to take you home.

∼Axl

He ended it in a way that wasn’t nice.

It was wonderful.

PS: Best wake-up call I ever had, honey.

Totally.

Wonderful.

Smiling to myself, I threw off the covers to get out of bed, keeping the note with me and searching for his cat.

I moved toward the wide hall, which I saw last night led not only to the bathroom, but another room at the other end.

I headed to the bathroom first, noting the hall walls were mirrored on one side, before I noticed they were actually mirrored doors to two closets on either side of the entry to the bathroom.

Interesting.

The bathroom was more of what was in his bedroom. Chrome fixtures. White walls and white penny-tile floors. White marble countertops with gray veins. But the cabinetry was navy. As were the thick towels.

I brushed my teeth.

And with what I hoped was as little snooping as possible (but I only did it with a purpose, and that was not to snoop, it was about dental hygiene), I found not only did he have floss (and he told me to make myself at home, so I tore off a string), but also strengthening and whitening mouthwash (I had this too!). So I used some of that as well.

Done in the bathroom, I wandered back out into the hall, and instead of going back to the bedroom, I went the other way.

At the other end was a room, not as big as the master, but not much smaller.

It was an office with a desk, a laptop on the desk, two handsome wire trays on either edge, both stacked with papers. Desk chair behind. Another armchair and ottoman in the corner, this one slouchy but handsome. Some shelves filled with books and what looked like trophies and medals.

And the pièce de résistance, a vintage stand-up Pac-Man video game against one wall.

Sweet.

Smiling to myself about Pac-Man, and still carrying Axl’s note, I walked out.

In the bedrooms, the blinds were drawn so they were somewhat in shadow (though, not much blocked out the bright Denver sun, even dark blinds).

However, light came bright in the rest of the house through lots of big windows.

And I walked out of the office into a dining room area that was beyond a half wall from the living room. Black furniture. Round table. Four chairs, their backs curved, the style was elegant and classy but also modern. And in the middle of the table was a wide, squat, interestingly shaped glass bowl in hues of blue, black and clear.

It was a fantastic bowl.

It was also the kind of bowl a man who had monogrammed notepaper owned.

On this thought, I started to feel a little weird, not exactly in a bad way, as I drifted into the living room.

I’d spent time in that room last night, but I hadn’t taken in an inch of it seeing as I had a bevy of other awesome (after the scary) things to occupy my mind and my time.

Now I saw it had a cool fireplace. Two couches perpendicular to it (gray). Two armchairs facing it (navy). Big TV over the mantel. Coffee table. End tables. Lamps. Black-and-white pictures on the walls, all of which seemed to be urban-life photography. Graffiti. Murals. The light rail of Denver at night.

And there was a handsome chest in front of the picture window. On it was a piece that was made of polished nickel that looked like a starburst but it was fashioned to erupt, not as if it was going out and toward you, but like it was detonating from the surface of the chest into the air above it.