I stare at it, suddenly unsure if I should be looking at it. This isn't my business. It doesn't matter that I just had sex with Nicholas. This is obviously something that is private to him and I have no right touching it.
"Sophia."
My head snaps up when I hear his sleepy voice call for me. I listen carefully for footsteps but I hear absolutely nothing.
"I was just getting a glass of water, " I call back as I try and shove the paper into the back of the frame, but my hands are shaking so violently that I can't tuck it all back into the small space behind the picture. "I'll be right there."
"I'm coming to find you." His voice is louder.
I stare down at the frame as I attempt to close the backing board but most of the white paper is still visible. I tug it back out, fist it in my hand and put the frame back together right before Nicholas rounds the corner from the hallway.
"You're goingto cook for me right now?" I duck my hand into my purse and drop the paper in its depths. "It's really late. I should head home."
I don't actually want to go home. I want another chance to put that paper back in the photo frame where I found it. Guilt iseating at me from the inside out. It started as soon as he walked over to the chair I was sitting in and kissed me. It hasn't let up in the five minutes since.
When he motioned for me to stand, I did. I kept my fist closed, hoping he wouldn't ask why. He didn’t bother. He only wanted to embrace me. I stood and let him take me in his arms, relaxing in the moment.
"I'm hungry." He pats his firm bare stomach above the waistband of the gray sweatpants he's wearing as he stalks toward the kitchen. "Our dinner was good but it was hours ago. I could go for some pancakes."
I could too but I have to work in a few hours and besides, I need to formulate a plan to get him out of the room long enough that I can cram that paper back into that frame. The only reason I dropped it in my purse was that I could sense how badly my palm was sweating from anxiety. If there's something sentimental written on that paper, I don't want the ink to run because of me.
Turning my head I see him standing next to the stove, a wire whisk at the ready in his hand and a huge grin on his face. I cave because eating pancakes in the middle of the night with a shirtless Nicholas Wolf should be on every woman's bucket list. "I'll stay for pancakes."
"Get over here and help me." He twirls the whisk in his hand. "I sense you're a better cook than I am."
"I'm not," I concede as I close the distance between us. "Cadence tried to teach me how to cook but it was a waste of time. Not everyone is destined to be a great chef."
I watch as he takes a carton of eggs and milk from the refrigerator before grabbing a few dry ingredients from his generously stocked pantry. "You're in charge of mixing, Sophia. Try not to fuck it up."
I laugh when he hands me the whisk. "Don't you have an electric mixer?"
With a serious expression on his face, he reaches over to squeeze my bicep through his shirt. "You've got the muscle power to do this by hand unless you don't think you have it in you to beat a few eggs."
"I have it in me." I flex my arm even though it's hidden under the fabric of his shirt. "Give me those eggs and I'll beat the hell out of them."
I jump when an unexpected loud buzzing noise fills the room.
"What the …"
"Shit. That was the intercom." Nicholas flicks on a light switch that bathes the living room in soft light. "My brother must be here."
"Your brother?" I call after him as he sprints down the hallway, disappearing in his bedroom.
I take a deep breath when I realize how I'm dressed. I can’t meet a member of his family when I’m only wearing panties and his shirt. I start my own trek down the hall almost running right into Nicholas as he exits his bedroom in a hurry. "Where are you going? You're not leaving, Sophia."
He's dressed in a T-shirt now, in addition to the gray sweatpants he was wearing earlier. On his feet are blue sneakers and a ball cap covers his head. "You're dressed. I need to get dressed too."
"No," he murmurs as he kisses my forehead. "I'm going down to the lobby to talk to Sebastian. I'll get rid of him. Then we can get back to making pancakes."
"Sebastian?" I repeat his name. I read a few small details about him online. He's the brother who followed in the footsteps of their father to become a NYPD detective. He's older than Nicholas by two years and judging by the picture I saw of him online, there's a definite family resemblance.
A frown knits his brow. "I haven't told you about my brothers, have I?”
"Not yet. You told me about your sister."
I'm startled by another loud buzz from the intercom.
"He's as impatient as fuck. He sometimes comes by after his shift to shoot the shit. I'll go down to the lobby and tell him to go to hell."
