She was a ballerina, wound as tight as the corset in her costumes. He was a hockey player determined to make a friend out of someone who didn't want any. She was willing to entertain the idea. But only because he wiggled his way past her defenses to...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I awoke to bright light hitting my eyelids, filling my vision with red. I groaned and yanked the blanket up to cover my eyes, snuggling my face into my pillow. I took a deep breath, recognizing the foreign scent as something a little musky and somehow sweet at the same time. I couldn't place where I know the scent from, but I definitely knew it wasn't what my pillow smelled like.
I opened my eyes slowly and uncovered them, groaning a little when the sunlight hit again. I forced myself to keep my eyes open and looked around the space in front of me. Green rug, oak coffee table, large, flatscreen tv...This was definitely not my apartment. The more I thought, the more I remembered. I was still at Loren's place. Huh.
I uncovered myself with the blanket that had somehow appeared during the night and upon hearing nothing, I scooted off to the bathroom, relieving myself before washing my hands and my swollen face. I rummaged through the medicine cabinet in hopes of finding some advil or something to help with the headache I was beginning to notice. God, I hated drinking.
When I exited the bathroom, I heard noises in the kitchen, so I shuffled my way over to the open space and was greeted by a set of wide, very muscular, very bare shoulders. I'll be honest, I let my gaze linger a little bit longer than I'd ever admit. While I'd never technically dated, I'd seen the male body in a variety of styles, but it was easy to say that not many could compete with what I was staring at now. Alexei had been right when he said Loren was very fit.
Loren turned to set down a plate on the island, smiling when he saw me. I flushed a little at being caught before approaching the kitchen.
"Morning, sleepyhead." He greeted me. "I didn't know what you'd want for breakfast, so I made a little bit of everything." I looked down at the food on the plate. Toast, eggs and bacon.
"How did you manage all of this while I was in the bathroom?" I asked skeptically. I'd been in the bathroom for no more than fifteen minutes, and yet an entire plate of food was made.
"I cook things at high temperatures for fast results."
"You cooked bacon. At a high temperature. And you were shirtless? I don't believe you, where are the grease burns?" I searched his arms and chest for red marks indicating that even he was susceptible to bacon fat, but found nothing.
"You know, everyone says that, but I've never been burned." Loren turned back to finish another plate of food. "I think you're all overreacting." He set the second plate of food next to the first but it had about double the amount of everything the first had. "And to top it off." He filled two glasses with water, and two more with orange juice. "You gotta stay hydrated."
I sat on one of the stools, staring blankly as he slid the first plate to me and handed me a fork.
"How are you not already married?" I asked, completely serious. "Like, you can afford your own place in the city, you've got a stable job, and you can cook? Tell me there's something wrong with you, because if there isn't and you're still single, there's no hope for the rest of us."
