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Athena was in her zone.
The kitchen was filled with the smell of garlic, onions, and something bubbling on the stove that was definitely going to taste amazing. She had her R&B playlist going — nothing but 90s classics — and the volume was just high enough to make the walls hum.
She moved around with ease, hips swaying in time with the beat, a wooden spoon in one hand as she stirred the pot. Her hair was wrapped up in a silk scarf, and she wore one of Bobby’s button-down shirts — soft cotton, light blue, sleeves rolled to her elbows, buttoned only in the middle. Underneath, she had on a black lace bralette and black lace panties. It was comfortable. It was hers.
And she was in her element.
Athena sang along with the music, her voice smooth and strong as she spun across the tile floor to grab seasoning. She wasn’t expecting Bobby home for at least another twenty minutes. Which meant she had time to finish dinner and get her little dance party out of her system.
But Bobby was already home.
He walked through the front door as quietly as he could, setting his duffel bag down just inside the hallway. The second he heard the music — and his wife — he stopped in his tracks.
Athena’s voice carried through the house, low and warm, singing along to the music like it was second nature.
He smiled.
Moving slowly, Bobby followed the sound to the kitchen. He stopped at the entrance, leaning against the doorframe for just a second. And there she was — bathed in soft yellow light, hips swaying, her skin glowing, and wearing his shirt like it belonged to her (because it did).
Athena turned her back to the stove, still singing along, hands swaying in the air as she danced. She spun around, reaching for the seasoning on the counter. That’s when he struck.
He walked in quietly, came up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist.
Athena jumped with a little yelp, then immediately swatted at his arm. “Bobby Nash! You tryin’ to give me a heart attack!?”
He chuckled, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but her smile gave her away. “Mmm-hmm. You tryin’ to make me spill dinner?”
“Would’ve been worth it,” he said, kissing her cheek. “You look incredible, by the way.”
Athena turned her head slightly to look at him. “I better. I’m wearing your shirt. Your clothes owe me at least one compliment per wear.”
He grinned. “Consider it delivered.”
The song changed to something slower and smoother. Bobby kept his arms around her as they started to sway together, bodies moving in perfect rhythm. He bent down and placed a kiss on her shoulder, then her neck, making her giggle.
“Okay, sir, this is a PG kitchen.”
“Says the woman in lingerie and my shirt.”
She smirked. “Touché.”
“This is a good welcome home,” Bobby murmured.
“Well, I had to make up for the day you had,” Athena replied, resting her hands over his. “Figured food and music would do the trick.”
“It’s working.”
She smiled and tilted her head toward him for another kiss. He gave her one — slow, warm, tender.
Then, the next song came on — Whitney Houston- I’m Your Baby Tonight—upbeat, full of bass and attitude. Athena laughed and stepped out of Bobby’s arms.
“Ohhh, this is my song!”
She started moving her hips, arms in the air, spinning around him like the kitchen was a dance floor. Bobby laughed, stepping back and clapping along, watching her with pure joy.
Athena pointed at him. You’re not just gonna stand there, mister. Get over here.”
He held up his hands. “You know I’ve got two left feet.”
“Yeah, and I’ve seen those left feet for years now. Bring ‘em over here, husband.”
With a dramatic sigh, Bobby stepped toward her. The second he started moving — with a goofy little bounce and shoulder pop — Athena cracked up.
“There it is!” she said. “The classic Nash dad groove!”
“I’ll have you know this move was popular in the 90s.”
“Oh, I believe it. It also died there.”
They danced, laughing and bumping hips. At one point, Bobby dipped her, nearly knocking over a chair, and they both howled with laughter.
They danced like no one was watching--because no one was.
It was just them, the music, and the smell of something amazing on the stove.
After a few songs, they collapsed onto the couch, breathless and laughing. Athena leaned into his side, grabbing a throw pillow to hug against her chest. Bobby threw an arm around her and kissed her temple.
“You still got it,” Athena said, nudging him with her elbow.
“I never lost it,” Bobby replied with a smirk.
She gave him a sideways look. “You lost it briefly during that spin, but I’ll let it slide.”
“That was intentional. Part of the choreography.”
“Mmm-hmm. Looked like a fight with gravity to me.”
Bobby chuckled and leaned over to kiss her temple. “Still impressed though, right?”
“Sure,” she teased. “In the same way, I’m impressed when Harry finds matching socks. Love and encouragement despite the odds.”
“You’re ruthless.”
“And you love it.”
“I do,” he said, quietly, eyes softening. “I really missed you today.”
Athena turned to him, her hand brushing against his chest. “I missed you, too, baby.”
They leaned into each other without thinking. Lips met — slow and familiar, a kiss that wasn’t rushed, wasn’t new, but still sent little sparks buzzing under their skin. Athena shifted, swinging a leg over his lap to straddle him, her hands sliding up to cup his face. Bobby's hands settled at her waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.
She smiled against his lips. “You taste like coffee,” she teased.
“And you taste like heaven,” he murmured, kissing her again.
Their kisses grew slower but more intense, a rhythm they knew well — unhurried, affectionate, confident. Married life hadn’t dulled a thing between them.
Athena pulled back just a little, her fingers brushing through his hair. “We’re supposed to be eating dinner,” she said, though she made no move to get up.
Bobby raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure I’m about to eat something way better than dinner.”
“Bobby Nash!” she gasped, laughing as he leaned in to kiss her neck.
But then — sizzle.
A loud crackle from the stove broke through the music, and they both froze.
Athena’s eyes widened. Oh my God–the food!”
They scrambled off the couch like two teenagers caught sneaking around, rushing back into the kitchen. Athena grabbed the spoon and started stirring, checking the pot.
“Okay, okay, we’re good,” she said. “Almost burned, but still edible.”
Bobby grabbed two glasses from the cabinet. “Maybe next time we save the make-out session for after dinner.”
Athena glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “Where’s the fun in that?”
They sat down at the table a few minutes later — plates full, glasses poured, and the music turned down to a quiet hum in the background.
The food was still delicious. Athena had salvaged it just in time, and Bobby swore it tasted even better after all the dancing and making out.
“Next time,” he said between bites, “we order takeout and just skip straight to the dancing.”
Athena grinned over her wine glass. “And the kissing?”
Bobby smirked. “That’s a non-negotiable.”
They laughed, clinking their glasses together before settling into comfortable silence.
After dinner, they cleaned up, bumping hips and sharing playful looks. The playlist looped back to the beginning, and Bobby reached for her hand.
“One more dance?” he asked.
Athena didn’t even hesitate. “Always.”
They moved together in the kitchen — slower this time. No fancy steps, just bodies close, hearts full, and a rhythm all their own.
And as the night wound down, and the house quieted around them, Bobby pressed a kiss to her forehead and murmured, “This… this is everything.”
Athena looked up at him, soft and sure. “Yeah. It really is.”