Much later that evening, they lay together in Hailey's bed, the sheets tangled around them.
The small bedroom was warmly lit by a bedside lamp, casting gentle shadows on the walls.
Hailey traced lazy patterns on Eric's chest with her fingertip, her mind wandering to something that had been bothering her.
"Eric," she said softly, her voice hesitant.
"Mmm?" Eric responded, his eyes closed and his breathing slow and relaxed.
"Can I ask you something?" she said.
"You can ask me anything," Eric murmured sleepily.
"Why do we always make love from behind?" Hailey asked, the question coming out in a rush.
Eric's eyes opened, but he didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he rolled over, positioning himself above her again, his hands braced on either side of her head.
"Don't you like it?" Eric asked, his voice rough as he leaned down to kiss her neck.
"That's not what I meant," Hailey said, but her protest was weak as his lips found that sensitive spot just below her ear.
"Then what did you mean?" Eric asked, his hands beginning to roam her body again.
"I just..." Hailey started, then tried to focus as Eric continued his ministrations. "I want to see your face. I want to look into your eyes when we..."
"When we what?" Eric asked, his lips moving along her collarbone.
"You know what I mean," Hailey said softly.
"Tell me," Eric whispered against her skin.
"When we make love," Hailey said quietly. "I want to see you. Really see you."
Eric paused in his kisses but didn't respond to her words directly.
Instead, he continued touching her, as if trying to distract her from the question.
"Eric?" Hailey prompted gently.
"Does it matter?" Eric asked, his voice muffled against her shoulder.
"It matters to me," Hailey said firmly.
"Why?" Eric asked, finally meeting her eyes.
"Because... because I love you," Hailey said softly. "And when two people love each other, they should be able to look at each other."
Eric stared at her for a long moment, something unreadable crossing his features.
"Eric?" Hailey said, suddenly worried. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No," Eric said quickly. "You didn't say anything wrong."
"Then why do you look like that?" Hailey asked.
"Like what?" Eric deflected.
"Like I just told you something you didn't want to hear," Hailey said, studying his face.
"You're imagining things," Eric said, leaning down to kiss her again.
"Am I?" Hailey asked, not entirely convinced.
"You're overthinking," Eric murmured against her lips.
"Maybe," Hailey conceded, but she couldn't ignore the feeling that something wasn't quite right.
Eric continued kissing her, his touch gentle but insistent, and gradually Hailey felt her concerns fading as her body responded to his.
"That's enough," Hailey said eventually, gently pushing against his shoulders. "I'm tired."
"Already?" Eric asked with a smile.
"It's been a long day," Hailey said, settling back against her pillow. "Between training the girls and your surprise visit..."
"Are you complaining about my surprise visit?" Eric asked, pulling her close.
"Never," Hailey said, snuggling against his chest. "I love your surprise visit."
"Good," Eric said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Because I plan to make many more."
"Promise?" Hailey asked sleepily.
"Promise," Eric replied.
Soon, his breathing became steady and he fell asleep, one arm placed protectively around her waist.
But Hailey lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't stop thinking about his non-answer to her question about their lovemaking.
"Why won't he look at me?" she whispered to herself in the darkness.
She listened to Eric's steady breathing, feeling both content and troubled at the same time.
Part of her was happy — she loved having him here, loved the way he made her feel.
But another part of her couldn't help but feel that he was holding something back.
"Maybe I am overthinking," she murmured quietly, trying to convince herself.
But even as she said it, she wasn't entirely sure she believed it.
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the bedroom windows, painting golden rectangles across the hardwood floor.
Hailey slipped out of bed quietly, her bare feet touching the cool floor.
"Don't wake up yet," she whispered to herself, glancing back at Eric's sleeping form. "Just a few more minutes of peace."
She tiptoed to the kitchen, trying to avoid the creaky floorboard she knew was hiding somewhere near the doorway.
"Success," she murmured under her breath as she made it to the kitchen without incident.
The kitchen was small but efficient, with white cabinets and a small island.
Hailey moved around the space with practiced ease, talking to herself as she worked.
"Bacon first," she said softly, pulling the package from the refrigerator. "Then eggs. Coffee is already set to brew automatically because I'm a genius."
She set a pan on the stove and began laying strips of bacon in neat rows.
"Perfect," she said, admiring her handiwork. "Martha Stewart has nothing on me."
The smell of cooking bacon began to fill the air, mixing with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee that had started right on schedule.
"I should hum," she decided. "Happy people hum while they cook."
She began humming softly to herself, cracking eggs into a bowl.
"One, two, three," she counted. "Eric likes his eggs scrambled, right? Or was it sunny side up? Why can't I remember these things?"
She whisked the eggs with practiced efficiency, still debating with herself.
"I'll ask him when he wakes up," she concluded. "Communication is key in relationships."
"Good morning," Eric's voice came from behind her, rough with sleep.
Hailey spun around, nearly dropping the whisk.
"Eric!" she exclaimed. "You scared me. I was just talking to myself."
"I heard," Eric said with amusement. "Something about Martha Stewart and communication being key?"
"You weren't supposed to hear that part," Hailey said, her cheeks flushing pink. "Good morning, by the way."
"Good morning," Eric replied, leaning against the doorframe.
"I hope I didn't wake you," she said.
"No, the smell of bacon did," Eric said with a sleepy smile. "It smells amazing."
"Thank you," Hailey said, beaming. "I was trying to be domestic and girlfriend-like."
"Girlfriend-like?" Eric asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You know," Hailey said, gesturing with the whisk. "Making breakfast, being nurturing, not burning the house down. The usual."
Eric chuckled. "You're doing great so far."
"Can I borrow one of your sweatshirts?" Eric asked, running a hand through his messy hair. "It's a bit cold."
"Sure," Hailey said, pointing toward the bedroom with her whisk. "There's a gray one in the closet that might fit you. It's oversized on me, so it should be perfect for you."
"Thanks," Eric said. "I promise not to stretch it out."
"Stretch away," Hailey called after him. "I never look good in it anyway."
Eric disappeared for a moment and returned wearing her oversized gray sweatshirt. The fabric hung loosely on his frame, but somehow he made it look effortlessly stylish.
"Wow," Hailey said, pausing in her cooking to stare at him. "Why can't I look that good in that shirt?"
"What do you mean?" Eric asked, looking down at himself.
"I mean, when I wear it, I look like I'm drowning in fabric," Hailey explained. "When you wear it, you look like you should be in a magazine ad for casual weekend wear."
Eric just smiled, a dismissive expression that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"You're exaggerating," Eric said simply.
"I'm really not," Hailey insisted. "It's unfair how good you look in my clothes."
"What are you doing?" Eric asked, walking over to peer into the pan, clearly trying to change the subject.
"Breakfast," Hailey replied even though she had mentioned it before, returning her attention to the stove. "I thought I'd make us a proper meal for once."
"You don't have to go to all this trouble," Eric said, but his voice suggested he was pleased by the gesture.
"It's no trouble," Hailey said. "I like cooking for you. It makes me feel... I don't know, useful?"
"Useful?" Eric asked.
"Like a proper girlfriend," Hailey explained. "Someone who takes care of you."