Page 70 of Make You Love Me
“That’s because you—”
She pivots to face me, and I realize I’m within touching range. If I engage a few muscles, her body could be on mine at last—my lips pressed against her neck.
I hobble to the other side of the counter since my body can’t be trusted.
“Because I what?” she asks, raking her sexy lazy eyes over me.
“You had to wear that.” My finger waves over her body, gaze following, and she looks down.
“You like old and…”
Thin and hugging every delicious curve. Her bare nipples are poking through the soft white fabric with pink and purple polka dots. If I’m not mistaken, she’s not wearing any underwear, either. Sweet mother of Jesus.
“Stop with the distractions. The pancakes need flipping,” I demand before my lower half explodes.
“Alright.” Her lips pinch to hide her amusement, but I don’t miss the subtle way she arches her back and rolls her head whileshe turns over each pancake tantalizingly slow. A stretch she could blame on morning stiffness, but I know what she’s doing. She’s flaunting her curves to draw my attention. Exposing her kissable neckline to make my mouth water. Oh, it’s a river in there, but she’ll never know. This is her go-to war strategy, and I’m already two steps ahead.
“Let me know when they’re ready. I’m going to wash off.” A long, cold, burn-off-the-sting-of-unfulfilled-desire kind of sponge bath.
“Okay,” she says, drawing out each letter almost as a question.
It took everything I had to keep my hands and lips to myself. But I’m focused on the primary mission. Something bigger than what I may want and need in this one small moment. Resisting the urge to give in too soon will not only make accomplishing the mission easier but also incredibly more satisfying.
???
“So, what are we calling yesterday?” she asks before taking a bite of pancake dripping with syrup. She’s sitting on the floor opposite me on the couch, our plates touching on the small coffee table.
“Can you even taste that pancake?”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s so much syrup it’s no longer a pancake.” My upper lip creases like I taste something sour. “It’s soggy mush.”
“What’s the problem? I like it wet,” she says with a mischievous grin, making my bite clog in my throat. “Don’t you?”
Damn. So much for having the leg up. I’d like to yankherleg—
“Anyway, I asked you a question before you ignored me and criticized my breakfast.”
“You did?” I wash down the dry mound of pancake with orange juice, wishing it had come with more gooey syrup. But I can never admit that and add another leg to her advantage. She’s knocked me down with her sexy strategy enough this morning.
She lets out a long exhale. “I asked what you wanted to label yesterday. First date or friend outing?”
“Oh. Since when do you into label anything between us?”
Her eyes narrow playfully. “Since yesterday, obviously.”
I consider the best answer for the mission and settle on, “Friends.” But add, “For now.”
That seems to satisfy her curiosity.
“After your PT and therapy appointments today, I thought we could go on another adventure. Up for a long drive?”
“Depends.” I take a bite and stare into her beautiful, dark chocolate eyes.
“On?”
“What we’re crossing off the list.”
