Abby
It’s the second time inweeks I’ve woken up to the smell of something sweet, and even though I have yet to open my eyes, I smile as I stretch my arms over my head, turning my face into Jack’s pillow to breathe in the scent of his shampoo. My body is sore in the most delicious of ways—my muscles ache and my thighs burn sweetly—and memories of the night before have me feeling fluttery inside.
I expected to feel panic after having sex with Jack. There are dozens of reasons why it should be a bad idea, why I shouldn’t have let it happen, but he’s just so…different than I thought he was. Yesterday had started out so dark, so full of misery, and with one simple act…Jack turned it all around. Made me feel like everything might be okay.
It’s been a long time since anything has made me feel like that.
I roll out of bed with a groan before shuffling to Jack’s closet to steal a T-shirt, padding across the hall to my own bedroom forsome fresh underwear before I make my way to the kitchen in search of the sweet smells and the sweet man responsible for them.
His back is to me when I step out of the hall; he’s wearing black boxer briefs and a maroon T-shirt that stretches tantalizingly across his broad shoulders, his hair sticking up at the back. He’s humming under his breath as he flips a pancake in the skillet at the stove, and in that particular moment, I have the strongest urge to rush over to him, to wrap my arms around his middle. It’s a sensation I’ve never felt before, and if I weren’t still so sated from last night, it might concern me, that urge.
“Morning,” I call instead.
Jack turns at the sound of my voice, his lips curling up in a bright smile that makes the room seem a little brighter in its wake.
“Morning,” he answers. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod, moving to the counter and taking a seat there. “I did.”
He wiggles his eyebrows, smirking. “Have sweet dreams of me?”
“You wish,” I say with a roll of my eyes, even though I can feel myself grinning.
“Obviously,” he tells me. “How else am I going to entice you for a repeat?”
I cock an eyebrow. “It hasn’t even been twelve hours, and you’re already thinking about how to seduce me again?”
“I hate to tell you this, Abby,” he says seriously. “But after last night…I’m pretty sure that’s all I’m going to be thinking about for the foreseeable future.”
I can feel my cheeks heat as he winks at me, and I’m gratefulthat he turns back to the stove so that he can’t see the way I’m flushing. Something about this man makes me a little stupid, and what’s even more surprising is how little I seem to mind it.
“Pancakes again?” I ask.
“Listen,” he says with a laugh. “Chef, I am not. You get BFF nachos and pancakes.”
“Good thing I like pancakes,” I say with a hum. I frown then, remembering. “Don’t you have a game today?”
“This afternoon,” he tells me. “First game of the second round.”
“Are you nervous?”
I don’t miss the way he tenses. “I guess that depends on how long they let me play.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly.
He shrugs. “It’s whatever.” He plates a pancake then, turning to set it in front of me. The flicker of discomfort leaves his expression, replaced by his usual playfulness. “Eat. You probably need calories after last night.”
I roll my eyes. “Someone’s full of themselves.”
“Someone else was full of me last ni—”
“Don’t you dare,” I laugh.
He laughs as he plates his own food, offering me syrup before turning to face me from the other side of the counter. “If you thought I was magically going to become less charming overnight, you thought wrong.”
“Charming,” I snort. “That’s one word for it.”
His lips twitch as he slathers his food in syrup. “I think you find me at least a little charming.”
