“No. I don’t. Which is why I asked.” She quips, one hand is perched on her hip and the other is holding the spatula aloft. She has flour dotting across the tiny bump on her nose.
I chuckle. “It’s like having an overwhelming feeling that takes control of you. Sometimes I can fight it off, and other times it’s like I can’t help but give into its desires.”
“So, does it talk to you?”
“No. But fucking hell, maybe that would be better so I could tell it to fuck off.”
We stare at each other as she mulls over what I’ve told her. Her eyes search mine and I feel my heart clench in my chest, wanting to pull her to me. I look down at her bottom lip with a tug down in my pants. I clear my throat, shaking my head at the smell of bread charring.
“Flip the toast, bella, before it burns.” I instruct. She jolts up and spins, hurriedly flipping the toast pieces one by one. As she flips them, her tongue peeks out from the side of her lips as she scowls like the bread concoction offends her.
Goddamn, she’s so fucking adorable.
I would do anything to make her mine.
“Is it ready?” She asks, bouncing on her toes with a hint of excitement. I smile, knowing that I brought her the joy she’s radiating right now.
I close the space between us, looking down at the golden-brown hue of the toast, lifting the other side to check that it’s done. “Buono.” I turn off the skillet.
“What does that mean?”
I chuckle, forgetting that I sometimes slip into Italian. “It means, good.”
“Oh.” She lets out a small laugh, and the sound raises goosebumps on my arms. I wish I could bottle up her sultry laugh and keep it for myself. Her body is still close to mine. I turn and the way she looks up at me knocks the wind out of my lungs, her dark lashes fluttering at me hesitantly. I swallow thickly, wanting nothing more than to take her in my arms and kiss the ever-living hell out of this woman. She inhales, licking her lips and dragging my eyes down to the small, but sexy movement.
“Oh my God, that smells amazing.” Sloan says, popping my moment with Skye like a pin to a fucking animal balloon.
“Hey! How are you feeling?” She asks, scurrying away to gather a plate and utensils for him as he hobbles to the table. He mumbles something that sounds like better, back at her.
It’s jarring to see him looking so rough, but it’s better than the alternative of not having him here at all.
Skye pulls out her phone, snapping a picture of the plate. As she goes to set it down, her fingers accidentally swipe the call button, bringing up Lukas’s number. The three of us stare at it as it rings out, an automated voice fills the air snapping Skye out of her daze. She hangs up forcefully, stashing her phone into the pocket of her shorts, while biting on her bottom lip.
“Dig in, bella.” I instruct.
She gives me a look I can’t quite decipher. Hurt mixed with gratefulness maybe. She cuts a small piece off and shoves it into her perfect mouth, a moan escaping from her as she chews.
Fucking hell what I would give to be wringing that sound from her lips.
I rearrange my tented pants, propping my ankle up onto my opposite knee to hide my growing problem. We finish off our meals, Sloan asking for seconds, making me think he’s truly on the mend.
As I plate up his second helping, all three of our phones go off with a notification. Skye meets my gaze, pulling out her phone with a gasp.
“It’s a mandatory assembly. Some sort of announcement about a new headmaster and it mentions Pierce.”
Sloan and I look at each other warily.
“Who’s the new headmaster?” Sloan asks, grabbing the plate from me.
“It says, Headmaster Hart.”
“You’re shitting me?” Sloan’s mouth drops open, a piece of unchewed French toast falling out in a sticky mess of syrup.
“Hart, as in…?” she asks.
“Walker.” Sloan and I say at the same time.
“So… what does that mean?”
