Page 32 of Hothead

As soon as she was close enough to accept the cup, he got his first whiff of his shower gel on her silky skin. She smelled like him. And for some insane reason, that turned him on more.

You’re seriously messed up, man. That’s some crazy shit right there.

“Thanks, uh, things are a little blurry from last night ...” Shy eyes lifted to his. “Please tell me I didn’t do anything to embarrass myself?”

His mind instantly flashed to his bed. Her head on his chest, his arm wrapped around her as she flung her own arm and leg over him. Did she remember that?

“No, angel, nothing embarrassing, I swear.” Relief flooded her pretty face, and he was so entranced, he forgot what he was going to say. He forgot everything. His brain had stopped working.

Next thing he knew, the angel before him lifted up onto her tiptoes and lay a soft kiss on his cheek. Scrambling his senses even more. His brain had no chance of switching back on now.

“Thanks for looking after me last night, Luke.” He was rewarded with a radiant smile. One he couldn’t look away from.

Stop staring at her and say something.

He continued to stare. Still not talking.

Anything.

Nothing.

Come on, man, she’s gonna think you’re having a stroke.

“Are you okay?”

Yup. She thinks you’re having a stroke.

“Luke?”

“Uh.” His fake cough helped him stall. For a second. “Sorry, uh, yeah, I’m good. Shall we eat?”

He didn’t wait for her to agree, he simply turned, grabbed his own coffee off the counter, and took himself and the muffins over to the kitchen table. He needed a minute to get himself together. He had a plan. A good one. And he needed to not fuck it up.

Bella followed him to the table, pulling up a chair opposite as she continued to eye him. Not hiding her confusion as she grabbed a muffin and began picking at it. This was not going well.

“You’re being weird.” She told him something he already knew.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “I’m fully aware.” He swiped a muffin too and wasted no time taking a big bite.

“Okay, are you gonna tell me the reason you’re being weird, or do you want me to guess?”

He gave her his best “seriously?” look. Which she obviously took as a challenge and carried on speaking.

“Okay, um, let’s see.” Her fingers began tapping the table as she pretended to ponder. “You ... you think your house is haunted and you’re waiting for the priest to show up?”

“What?” He might be smiling. Maybe.

“No. Okay.” She nodded to herself. “Uh, you lost your lucky rabbit’s foot?”

He just shook his head at that one. What was this chick on?

“Bitten by a snake?” she tried again.

He let his eyebrow raise this time.

“Weird itch?”

The table was treated to a spray of muffin that time. “Christ, woman, who’s being weird now?”

---