Page 19 of Bombshell

It finally registered.

Great. Just great.

“You need to ice that,” he said, running his thumb over the swollen spot.

I winced, and he made a deep sound in his chest before letting my hand go and moving away from me. Taking the warmth of his body and scent with him. He took three long strides over to the fridge and opened the freezer. When he saw the stack of three bright pink ice packs, a grin tugged at his lips. He took one out, then turned back to me.

“Burn yourself often?” he asked.

I shook my head as he took my wrist and placed the ice pack on my burn.

“I just like to keep them handy if needed. To pack in a lunch box or if I pull a muscle from doing Pilates.” I stopped talking as his smile grew bigger. Why was that funny?

“Very organized,” he replied, “and pink.”

Annoyed by his teasing, I took my hand from his and held the ice pack on my burn. This was embarrassing enough. He didn’t have to add to it.

“What did I do now?” he asked.

I turned to the stove to clean up my mess. “You seem to find me amusing.”

“I’m not making fun of you, Tink. It’s cute.”

Cute. Just what every girl wanted to be referred to by a man like Micah Abe. I was always cute. I hated that word.

“I’ll clean it up. You keep the ice on your hand,” he told me, taking the towel from me.

I let him have at it just to keep from having to talk to him.

He leaned over and started wiping up my spill, and I was too weak not to watch his back flex and move. The tattoos were more like a work of art. I wasn’t one who liked tattoos much, but on Micah, they only seemed to make his already-perfect body more appealing.

“Why don’t you put up whatever that healthy shit was that you pulled out of the fridge and I’ll go get us some real breakfast?” he said as he turned back to look at me.

My eyes snapped up to meet his gaze, and I hoped that he didn’t realize I’d been admiring his body.

“There are the doughnuts that Pep brought last night too. I left you three of them, but they are probably not as good this morning.”

“I can just eat avocado toast. You don’t need to get me nothing,” I told him.

He gave me a crooked grin. “I’m starving, and I need a real cup of coffee. I won’t go out and get something and not bring you back something too. So, tell me now what you like, or I’ll guess.”

Fine. At least this would get him out of the apartment long enough so that I could breathe. Get a shower and recover from this morning’s events.

“There’s a breakfast café two blocks over, called Glory Griddle. It’s known for its chicken and waffles. I like the egg white, spinach, and feta omelet there.”

His eyes brightened. “I love chicken and waffles,” he said.

I caught myself before replying, I know. With maple syrup. Or at least, that had been his favorite the last summer he stayed at Pepper’s.

I managed a tight smile and said nothing more. He would also like their coffee there. I didn’t add that information. He’d figure it out himself.

“You sure you don’t want something more filling than that?” he asked me. “Maybe some pancakes?”

I shook my head. “I don’t eat big breakfasts.”

“All right then. Healthy-ass omelet it is. I’ll be back in a few. Lock up. Let no one inside.”

Again, I just nodded.

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