Page 20 of Snow, Ice, and Spice
Chapter9
Maya
When I walk into the empty kitchen the next morning, I go through my usual morning routine of feeding Mr. Pudding and brewing coffee.
As I pour myself a cup, I glance down the hallway to Theo’s room. When I think about what I did last night, my entire body flushes. I crossed an unspoken line by making Theo the star of my self-pleasure fantasy. But he doesn’t have to know that.
I shudder at the thought of anyone finding out about what I did. I’ll be taking that to my grave.
I’m scrolling through my phone and halfway through my coffee when Theo pads out of his bedroom, rubbing a fist to his eye.
“Morning,” he says through a sleepy half-smile as he makes a beeline to the coffee machine.
“Good morning,” I reply, trying my hardest to keep from gawking at him since he’s wearing nothing but flannel pajama bottoms that hang low on his hips.
I hazard a glance at his beautiful bare chest as he digs through the cupboards for a mug. The muscles in his stomach and chest and arms ripple while he reaches and grabs. I can’t help but stare in awe. How the hell can a human being look this flawless first thing in the morning?
I glance down at the oversized oatmeal cardigan I’m wearing over a thin sleeping shirt and sweatpants before my gaze slingshots back to Theo’s gorgeous form. I’m so frumpy in comparison.
It’s not till he makes eye contact with me while he sips from his coffee mug that I realize I’m staring at him.
“Something on my chest?” he teases as he brushes nothing off his sculpted left pec.
He laughs, which makes my face feel like it’s engulfed in flames. I avert my gaze to a random spot on the kitchen island, where I’m standing.
“Couldn’t be bothered to wear a shirt, huh?” I dump more oat milk in my mug and try to keep my tone as neutral and uninterested as possible, but I’m certain Theo can tell by the hot flush igniting my skin that I’m embarrassed at how he caught me staring.
I’m treated to a smirk when I look back up at him. He glances down at his bare chest and shrugs. “Wouldn’t want to deprive you of such a stunning view.” He holds his arms at his sides, like he’s presenting himself.
I can’t help but smile as I roll my eyes. “I prefer that view,” I tease, nodding my head at the snow-covered mountains in the distance through the massive living room ceiling-to-floor windows.
Theo clutches his chest and jokingly stumbles back a step. “Ouch.”
“Seriously though, how can you stand to be shirtless right now? Even with the heat on I can still feel the chill from outside. It’s way below freezing.”
“I’m hot-blooded. I swear I was a polar bear in another life. It’s probably why I’m a hockey player.”
I laugh. He chuckles right along with me. This feels good, to laugh and chat with Theo. It feels like we’re friends, which is a nice change from our usual exchanges of me snapping at him whenever he riles me up.
I top off my mug with more coffee and oat milk before offering it to Theo. He shakes his head.
“I slept pretty well last night so I’m good with one cup. But how can you drink that?” He makes a face at the carton of oat milk. “That stuff tastes so chalky.”
I look him straight in the eye as I sip. “I love it.”
He laughs.
“So you had a good hibernation last night then?” I ask.
Theo’s smile twitches the slightest bit. He clears his throat and looks down at his mug, which he’s now cradling in both of his hands. “Yeah. It was a good sleep. Uh, you?”
“Yeah, I slept great.” I quietly take in the way he’s now conducting a staring contest with the floor. Strange. He’s always been the kind of guy to maintain easy, confident eye contact, even when I’m yelling at him. Why the sudden change?
“That’s good,” he says before clearing his throat again. “That you slept well, I mean.”
A second later I notice a pink flush creep down his neck and chest. When he finally makes eye contact with me, the look in his eyes is shy and something else…embarrassed? No, that’s not it. It’s more like he’s embarrassed for me for some reason.
For a long moment, I’m confused until it finally hits me: he heard me last night.
