I roll my eyes, but something traitorous and warm bubbles up in my chest.
I look around the kitchen again; everything is wiped down, dishes are drying in the rack, and the counters are actually visible.
It’s... embarrassing, in a way. The mess he walked into, but he didn’t say a word about it.
He just cleaned, cooked, and chose to stay.
“Thanks,” I mumble under my breath.
“For bleeding for you?” he teases.
“For breakfast,” I snap, trying not to smile as I toss the trash and shove the bandage tin back into the cabinet.
He stands, still holding his hand.
“You’re gonna owe me for that. It’s my throwing hand.”
“Oh, poor you,” I say dryly, brushing past him toward the food. “Guess I’ll make it up to you by not letting Rex finish the job.”
I step back, pretending I didn’t just have both hands around him, as if my pulse isn’t racing in my throat.
“Try not to piss off my cat again,” I mutter.
Maverick’s blue eyes don’t leave mine.
He flexes his fingers once, like he’s testing the wrap, but it’s his gaze that pins me in place.
“Is that concern, Hamilton?” His voice dips, low and smug. “Or do you just like having your hands on me?”
I scoff, but it comes out thinner than I want. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
He steps closer, and suddenly his bare chest is inches from mine, the scent of clean skin, and whatever cedar-spice cologne he uses swallows the space between us.
“I don’t need to,” he whispers, “You’re already looking.”
I hate that I am.
His abs shift as he moves, every muscle taut and annoyingly defined, the kind of body that looks like it was built to be worshipped. His sweatpants sit dangerously low, the sharp cut of his V-line peeking out as he reaches up to open the cabinet behind me.
I don’t move.
He leans in closer this time, his chest brushing mine just enough to feel it, and his voice drops right beside my ear.
“You always this tense in the morning?” he breathes, “or is it just me?”
My breath hitches.
It’s involuntary, humiliating, and he definitely heard it.
I clench my jaw. “You’re in my space.”
He grins. “You haven’t told me to move.”
“Yet.”
Another beat of silence.
He lowers his mouth closer, like he might say something else, but doesn’t.
