I look over at Landon as he leans in the open refrigerator. “Sure,” I mumble. “But maybe you should shower and change.”
He offered me his shower when we got to his apartment. I couldn’t turn it down. I was soaked through and freezing. I was surprised he didn’t try to join me. I’m not sure if I would have pushed him away. After the heat between us on the beach, I probably wouldn’t have. But I am glad he didn’t give me the option. The war between my head and my heart is at an all time high, the bombs rattling my anxiety, the gunfire aiming right into my heart.
When I got out of the shower I found a pair of sweats and a SEAL hoodie on his bed. I was hesitant to put them on but since I had nothing else, I had to. I rolled the pants three times to make them fit. And I am not going to lie, I inhaled the smell of his hoodie just a few times. It smells like him, all man with his signature scent of the ocean mixed with the clean smell of cypress. I cursed myself for remembering what he smelled like.
Landon looks at me. “I’m fine. Let me just find something to eat.”
I laugh as I walk over to him. My hand going for his back without thinking. He put on dry clothes but I can feel the chill on his skin through his shirt. “I’ll make something. You go warm up.”
He turns to me and the look in his dark eyes almost kills me. They aren’t filled with desire like I would expect but with a longing and gratefulness. Like he hasn’t had someone tell him in a long time they would take care of him even if it’s as simple as making dinner.
His hand wraps around my hip, slipping underneath the warmth of the hoodie I’m wearing. “You sure?”
I nod as I try to mask the feeling his hands on me gives. I don’t want to give into him. Don’t want him to see how much his touch, his eyes, his body affect me. Although, I am beginning to think it’s too late.
“Okay,” he whispers as he bends down. His lips barely caress mine but it’s enough to pick up my heart rate, to make my heart gain ground on the battle with my brain.
“I’ll be back in a few,” he says as his hand falls from my skin and he steps away.
I watch as he walks to his bedroom. As he pulls his shirt over his head on the way. I stare as his perfectly sculpted back flexes with the movement.
I am in so much trouble.
I turn to his refrigerator and find a whole lot of nothing. A few eggs, some lunchmeat, and tomatoes that are going soft. I find his pantry and pull out a loaf of bread. He needs to go grocery shopping. Or have someone do it for him. What the hell does this man eat to keep that physique yet barely have any food in the house?
My house is stuffed with every protein, snack, spice, and dessert you could ever want. The fact I have two kids to feed ensures I always have everything. Those two girls are the pickiest eaters, changing their likes each week. I swear they do it to mess with me. One week they will love smoked gouda and the next it will be the bane of their existence. Spoiled brats. But I love them, nonetheless.
I slice up an onion that I find and mash an avocado on its last legs. I build Landon a sandwich with double the meat and avocado while I make myself a smaller version.
Just as I am plating the sandwiches, he walks out of his room, toweling his short hair. I’m glad he put clothes on because if he came out in just shorts or even a towel, I don’t know if I could hold myself back.
“Looks good,” he says as he throws the towel on the couch and sits on one of the barstools at the small island.
“It’s just a sandwich.”
“Yeah, but you put vegetables in it. More than I ever do.”
I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t hard. But you probably need to go to the store. I think I used everything you had in here besides the eggs.”
“I’ll go eventually. That’s why there is delivery.”
I set my plate down and sit next to him. “How do you keep your physique if you eat out all the time?”
He raises a brow at me. “Have you been checking me out?”
“Oh please. You flaunt it like it’s your job,” I sass.
“Maybe it is my job.”
I elbow him in the side before turning back to my sandwich.
His hand goes for mine and he brings it to his stomach. “Do you want to feel them? See why I get paid the big bucks.”
I laugh as I pull my hand away. “Okay Romeo, I know what you do for work and it’s not getting a six-pack. Unless you model on the side? Romance covers maybe?”
“Just for my only fans account.”
“I don’t even know what that is,” I laugh.