CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SCARLETT
I am fucking craving pancakes.
I don’t know why; I just know I need a fix now.
However, I am a terrible cook. I mean, really shocking, honestly.
But I’ll make it work.
Sitting up in bed, I stretch my arms up over my head before climbing out of bed.
We’ve been here for a week now. And that man still won’t open up to me. It’s frustrating, but I’ll get there soon. I can tell I’m wearing him down.
I pad downstairs barefoot, in nothing but an oversized white tee that falls to mid-thigh.
Once I get to the kitchen, it smells faintly of coffee. Levi must have made some earlier, though, he’s nowhere to be seen now.
It’s only eight, how early did he get up?
I shrug to myself. At least I'll get five minutes of peace around here.
Tying my hair into a messy bun on top of my head, I move to rummage around the still unfamiliar pantry for everything that I’ll need.
Seeing a speaker in the corner of the living room I decide to connect my phone to play some music to set the mood – starting with ‘2 hands’ by Tate McRae. What a bop.
With the music now pouring out into the room, I get to work.
Adding all the ingredients into a bowl, I start to whisk them together while moving side to side to the beat of the music. I haven’t known peace like this in way too long.
“Are you trying to wake the whole lake with this racket?” I hear from behind causing me to whirl around, batter flying out of the bowl as I do.
I bring my hand to my chest. “Dude, are you trying to kill me? Make a sound, would you?”
So much for peace.
I really chance a look at Levi now. Standing tall at six-foot-one, his posture strong and confident complimenting his athletic physique.
His dark brown hair is slightly tousled, clinging to his damp forehead.
His moustache framing his upper lip, those bright blue eyes full of energy.
The sweat glistening on his skin highlighting the hard planes of his body, his cheeks slightly flushed pink.
He looks like someone who’s just been on a run.
And now, I’m ogling.
Meeting his eyes, I note his slight smirk. “You like the view or something, Quinn?”
Instantly I snap out of whatever trance I’m in. Get it together, Scarlett.
“In your dreams, Carter.” I say as I roll my eyes before turning back to my pancake batter.
He’s silent so I speak up again. “Are you sure a run is good for your shoulder right now?”
He rolls his eyes at me, leaning his good side against the door frame. “God, you’re overbearing. You know that?”
I glance back at him over my shoulder, arching a brow. “Cut the attitude, Levi. It’s my job.” I turn back to the pancakes. “Are you going to go shower, or what? You stink of sweat.”
“Nah, I think I’ll wait to have some food first,” He saunters toward me, leaning over my shoulder and seeing the batter before retreating, “Pancakes sound so good right now.” He rubs a hand over his stomach.
“Be my guest.” I mutter before moving to grab a pan from the cupboard to use.
Levi takes a seat at the counter, watching me.
It’s unnerving. The way he looks at me so intently.
Once the pan is heated, I melt some butter before pouring my first lot of batter, hearing it sizzle.
I move to flip the pancake shortly after, when Levi decides he wants to give me his two cents.
“You’re supposed to wait until the batter is bubbling before flipping.”
I turn to him, tilting my head slightly. “Do you always narrate people cooking, or am I just lucky?”
“But you’re doing it wrong.” He says, his brows coming together.
I turn back to the pan to flip. “You’re more than welcome to leave, Levi.”
“And miss this disaster? Absolutely not.” He leans his elbow on the counter, before resting his head in his palm, watching on.
He is infuriating.
I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.
I flip the pancake. And it folds in half. Completely raw in the middle. Shit.
I hold up a hand. “Don’t you dare, Carter.”
I discard that pancake before trying again.
This time I just focus. Forget he’s even there. He’s nothing but a distraction.
I pour. I wait until the batter starts to bubble before using the spatula to flip - this time, successful.
I internally fist pump.
I hear Levi’s chair screech from behind me before he pads closer.
I feel him look over my shoulder before I hear him.
“That one’s actually decent.” He says softly, his breath lightly brushing against my cheek.
My heart skips a beat at the proximity.
Attempting to come off unaffected, I roll my eyes, though my lips pull up in a small smile.
I reach across to grab a plate, my arm brushing against his feeling his warm still lightly damp skin. It shouldn’t feel that good.
He coughs lightly, pulling away, his fingers grazing my arm as he does.
“I’ll just get some toppings.” He says as he walks off.
I snort to cut the tension in the room. “That’s so kind of you to get toppings for my pancakes. I’ll take lemon juice and sugar.”
“No way, that’s disgusting, Scarlett.” He scrunches his nose up.
I turn to him, placing my hands on my hips and tilting my head. My eyes narrow. “Well, isn’t it lucky I’m not concerned about what you want on pancakes.”
He whips around, his jaw dropping. “You weren’t going to make any for me? Scarlett, you’re rehabilitating me, you should be looking after me.”
I take that first pancake out of the pan and place it on the plate before turning to Levi to contemplate him over my shoulder.
“You’re a twenty-nine-year-old man. You can cook for yourself.” I retort before pouring my next pancake into the pan.
“I’m injured. You should be encouraging me to rest and not aggravate my shoulder!” He exclaims, gesturing to his shoulder.
Literal definition of a manchild. God help me.
The pancake starts to bubble, so I flip it before responding.
“If there’s any leftover batter when I’m done, you’re more than welcome to make your own, Carter.”
His mouth opens and closes, clearly unable to find any words. Good.
I meet his eyes, raising a brow. “So, are you going to get me those toppings or what?”
Wordlessly, he turns to get me my lemon juice and sugar before walking back and placing them on the counter beside me.
I remove the pancake from the pan before turning and wrapping my hand around his bicep, leaning into him.
“Such a good boy, Levi.”
I see his skin slightly flush red as he moves, obviously trying to create some distance.
“I’m going to go shower.” He mumbles walking out of the room.
I smirk to myself while topping my pancakes. He is too easy.
I sit at the bench before digging in, finally feeling real peace at last.
…
LEVI
I brace both my hands on the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection through the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, pupils blown and chest heaving slightly. And my pants incredibly tight around my groin.
Such a good boy, Levi? Seriously? I hate that, but I hate how it made me feel even more.
I drag a hand through my hair. I had to get out of there.
Just the thought of her standing there in that oversized tee that was slightly falling off her shoulder and hair pulled up all messy exposing a neck that I desperately wanted to kiss.
Emerald green eyes, and those pink pouty lips.
It was driving me insane. I can’t remember the last time I’ve wanted someone so badly.
I couldn’t trust myself with her at that moment. And that’s dangerous.
The risk is too high. Coach would kill me if I ran her off, but also, she would be the worst kind of distraction. I can’t afford that right now. I’ve got too much to lose.
The pipes groan softly as I turn the nozzle, the cold water spraying from the tap.
A cold shower is exactly what I need to get out of this funk.
I strip down to my boxers palming my hard dick to try and ease some of the pressure. I tip my head back, closing my eyes.
Fuck.
Leaning back into the shower, I change the temperature to warm, the steam starting to fog the mirror instantly.
Maybe if I just get it out of my system, I won’t want her anymore. That makes sense, right?
I step under the spray, letting it wash over me. Trying to relieve some of the tension that she created.
I brace my hand against the cold tiles, my head bowing trying to will these thoughts away. She’s my Pilates Instructor. I try to force my mind to think about anything but her.
She fills every corner of my mind, increasingly so. I don’t know what to do with that.
My hand drifts down to my aching cock, wrapping my hand around the base before lightly squeezing to release some of the tension.
I exhale sharply, clenching my jaw as I scrunch my eyes closed, starting to jerk my hand up and down. My imagination fuels my desire as I picture Scarlett down on her knees before me. How well those rosy, pink lips would take my cock. How her face would look coated in my cum.
“Fuck, Scar.” I mumble as I start to move my hand faster, my breath hitching as I feel the familiar feeling coiling tight in my abdomen.
“Shit.” I grunt as I come, my release hitting the tiles.
My chest is heaving as I straighten up, shifting the showerhead to wash away the mess.
Fuck, she’s made an absolute mess out of me.
I roll my shoulders a couple of times, turning the shower off just as I hear a knock on the door.
I freeze.
“Levi.” Scarlett’s soft voice calls through the door. Shit.
“Uh– Yeah?” I respond as I step out and towel off my wet hair.
“Are you okay? I heard some noises, is your shoulder bothering you?” She asks. My breath hitches.
Fuck. She heard?
I feel my face flush slightly.
As I wrap the towel around my waist, the door opens, and she peeks her head in.
And there she is in all her glory. Looking just as tempting as when I left her.
I’m in trouble.
“Do you need a hand?” She asks. And, man, would I love her to give me a hand.
“Oh, no. Not anymore.” I respond politely. She narrows her eyes at me before closing the door and I hear her walk downstairs.
I release the breath I didn’t realise I was holding.
Fuck, that was close.