The insistent chirping of the robin outside my window was the first sign I was losing the battle. With a groan, I fumbled for my phone, silencing the feathered alarm clock. Squinting at the bright screen, I saw 6:45 am displayed in harsh red digits. What was Kelly thinking, dropping a song titled “Coffee” before sunrise?
Curiosity, however, battled my fatigue. Hitting play, a smooth melody filled the room, instantly transporting me away from the tangled mess of my sheets. Kelly’s voice, a rich contralto, oozed sensuality as she sang about the promise of a morning ritual that went far beyond a simple caffeine fix.
“Coffee and sex in the morning / Breakfast in bed got me moanin’,” she purred, the lyrics sending a shiver down my spine. Images flickered in my mind – tangled limbs, sheets strewn across the floor, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the scent of something far more intoxicating.
Suddenly, the prospect of a cold shower to jumpstart my day seemed less appealing. I glanced across the room at the empty space beside me, a pang of longing tugging at my heart. This song wasn’t just about coffee; it was a reminder of lazy mornings spent with someone special, the kind where the lines between sleep and something more delightfully blurred.
As the song progressed, the beat picked up, the melody transforming into a slow, seductive groove. Kelly’s voice dipped lower, a husky whisper promising untold pleasures. I found myself swaying to the rhythm, a smile playing on my lips. Maybe a hot shower wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
By the time the last note faded, I was wide awake, a newfound energy coursing through me. Kelly Rowland hadn’t just delivered a new song; she’d delivered a wake-up call. Coffee might have been the first item on the menu, but the possibilities hinted at in “Coffee” promised a far more delicious way to start the day.
With a newfound determination, I threw back the covers and headed for the bathroom. The rhythmic echo of the shower mingled with the faint melody of “Coffee” still playing in my head. Maybe a steaming mug and a stolen glance across the breakfast table wouldn’t hurt. After all, a little Kelly Rowland inspiration could be just what my morning – and maybe my relationship – needed.
