“Morning,” I say cheerfully as I stride toward the kitchen.
He whips his head around so fast, I’m surprised he doesn’t topple over. His hair is doing that messy, floppy thing. It’s wet, like he just showered. I resist the urge to walk right up to him and inhale the crook of his neck, just to get a hit of the leathery, woodsy scent he always has.
I bet it smells the strongest right now.
He clears his throat, and sets down his mug. “Good morning. I didn’t think you’d be up this early. Coffee?” he asks, and I nod.
He stands, and in just a few steps he’s at the coffee pot, pouring me a cup. Oh, and he’s barefoot. I have no choice but to scan his thick tree trunk thighs, muscled calves, and feet. God, they're not even ugly feet. That would’ve really helped me turn this thing for him, off.
Damn him.
He turns around and hands me my cup. Now that he’s finally facing me, I want to scream. His front is as perfect as his back. Abs, chest, shoulders, arms. I don’t know what to focus on first. His abs aren’t the washboard kind, they’re thick. Like he has them, even though he doesn’t try. His arms are probably as big as my thighs, if not bigger. It takes everything in my power to maintain eye contact with him.
What was the plan? Oh yeah, apologize. For asking him to kiss me.
The reminder of what almost happened on the couch last night, makes my cheeks burn.
“Thanks.” I nod to the coffee mug.
We begin talking at the same time.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I’m sorry for asking you to kiss me.”
He cocks his head at me, brows furrowed. We simultaneously speakagain.
“It’s me who should apologize.”
“Yes, did you?”
I shake my head, and hold up my non-coffee hand with an awkward laugh.
“Okay, wait. Let me just get it out.”
“Alright,” he relents, crossing his arms, and effectively amplifying all of the muscle in front of me.
“I’m sorry for asking you to kiss me, right after you told me you need boundaries. You made it very clear, this,” I gesture between us. “Can’t happen. I shouldn't have asked that of you, and again, I’m very sorry. That will not happen again. Scouts honor.” I hold up the universal three fingered code of honor.
“Ivy, you were not the only one on that couch. I was far from professional. Really there’s no need to apologize. I’m sorry for–”
I cut him off.
“Yes, but you did not ask me to kiss you. Let’s just agree it was a lapse in judgment, and from now on, we will have a friendly employer, employee relationship, yes?” I’m sure the smile on my face is borderline manic.
The muscle in his jaw flexes, and he looks off to the side, resting his hands on his hips.
“Yes,” he grits out.
“Great!” I sound more unhinged than my intended cheery.
He turns his beautiful head back to look me in the eye.
“Friends?” I ask.
Is my eye twitching?
“Friends,” he agrees.
