Room 452

I roll my eyes without looking back. How the fuck did I have an actual serious moment with that man? Oh well, I only have to survive one more day with him. I can handle that. Right?

Chapter 8

I didn’t bother setting an alarm this morning. I wanted to try to sleep in as late as possible so there’d be less time I had to deal with Sawyer. At least I made it until late morning.

I don’t bother getting ready and head out toward the kitchen in my sleep shorts and tank. Sawyer’s door is open, and I don’t see him in there as I pass. When I get to the kitchen, I hear music coming from the home gym room, so Sawyer must be in there.

What kind of psycho works out in the morning while on vacation is beyond me. I decide to make breakfast for the both of us. Maybe if I start out the morning being nice to him, then the rest of the day will be easier to deal with. I mean, I may be partially to blame for all of our bickering.

I grab some eggs, milk, and veggies out of the fridge to make some omelets. I called my dad’s local friend and asked him to pick up some basic food supplies for the

cabin. He does it for us every time we use the cabin for a work trip, and then we pay him double whatever it costs to make sure everything is fully stocked.

The music from the gym streams into the kitchen, so I sing and dance along to it while I prepare the eggs. The song gets to the most dramatic part, so I belt it out as I dance when suddenly the music cuts abruptly, and I hear a laugh from behind me.

I freeze in my tracks and narrow my eyes as I whip back around and stare angrily at Sawyer. He laughs harder. “What are you doing?”

My brain turns to mush as I stare at him. I’m not even exactly sure what he just asked. He fucking just waltzed in the kitchen looking like this? No fucking way.

He’s in nothing but a pair of black shorts and sneakers. Sweat is literally dripping down his body. I stare as one drop runs down over every grove and curve of his abs. I didn’t even realize a man could look this good in real life. What the fuck was he doing in that gym to get this sweaty? And for the love of God, can I please be there the next time he does it?

He must realize I am not going to answer his question because he gives me a funny look and then walks over to the counter to his phone. He swipes across the screen a couple of times, but then grins up at me. “Can you unlock my phone? My fingers are too sweaty.”

Jesus fucking Christ!

I absent-mindingly walk over to his phone and swipe up the lock screen. He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” I hum back, but then I snap back to reality. “Uh yeah. I’m making breakfast.”

He starts stretching his arms right in front of me. “Isn’t it almost lunch time?”

I lean my head to the side and make a mocking face. “So brunch then. How about you make the mimosas?”

He leans against the counter and lifts his leg to stretch his quads. “Drinks already? You sure you don’t have a problem?”

He opens his eyes wide realizing what he said. “I’m sorry Blake. I didn’t mean because of your mo-.”

I cut him off. “Please stop talking.” I whip my hair over my shoulder as I turn back toward the stove to start the omelettes. “And no, before you, I only had drinks on Fridays with Erin. There’s just something about being in close proximity to you that pushes people over the edge.”

I hear him chuckle behind me. “I’ll drink to that.” He says as he walks over to the cabinet to grab glasses.

I glance over to him and then laugh. “Go shower. Food will be ready in a few minutes.”

He raises his eyebrows at me. “You sure? I thought for sure with the way you were drooling that you liked me this way.”

I laugh. “Fuck off or I’ll eat your omlette too.”

He chuckles as he walks out of the kitchen and into his room to shower. He pops back into the kitchen a few minutes later as I am finishing scooping the omelettes onto two plates. I grab the glasses off the counter to actually make those mimosas when one almost slips from my hand.

Instead of coming out fully dressed, Sawyer decided to come back out still dripping wet only this time it is from the shower and not sweat. The towel around his waist hardly leaves anything to the imagination. “Fucking hell Sawyer. Go put on some fucking clothes.”

His mischieveous smile is fucking adorable against his sparkling eyes. I swear sometimes this man acts like he is still a child. I insist further. “Do you really think that’s going to work? Show off your hot bod until I give in?”

He cocks his head to the side and grins. “Yes.”

I roll my eyes. “You forget, I already felt your body. I wasn’t impressed.”

He laughs. “Oh please. You should have heard the way you were moaning into my mouth. You knew I wasn’t fucking Todd, but you kept lying to yourself because you liked it too much.”