could not go there. We were finally on solid ground again, and thinking with my dick instead of the wisdom I’d earned as VP would get me nowhere but in trouble, not to mention what it could do to Heath. Even if there was a complicated zing of attraction between us, we seemed to be on the same page: club business came first. But it didn’t make the temptation any easier when I was faced with Heath again at the Hell’s Ankhor clubhouse.
“Hey,” Heath said a little shyly as he waved me in through the front door. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Thanks for coming.”
“No thanks necessary,” I said.
Heath swallowed.
The last thing I wanted was for things to be awkward between us. With two fingers, I tilted his chin up, urging him to meet my eyes. Then I nodded toward the grocery bag of supplies I’d brought with me. “Help me out before class starts?”
I don’t know if it was my touch, or the request, but some of his nerves seemed to ease away, and he nodded. He even gave me a small smile.
In the kitchen, he helped me unload all the groceries and get out the bowls and tools we’d need. I chopped a huge bowl of crisp green apples in preparation while Heath wiped down the kitchen island. The Hell’s Ankhor clubhouse had a gorgeously functional kitchen, with its immense island, counterspace, and double oven setup. It made me want to remodel the Liberty Crew clubhouse, even though I had more than enough space to work my magic at Stella’s.
Heath rose up onto his tiptoes to reach the far edge of the kitchen island. His t-shirt rode up as he stretched, revealing a strip of smooth skin at his lower back, just above his waistband where the elastic edge of his underwear was barely visible. God, I wanted to slide my hands under the hem of his shirt and up the plane of his back, rucking the fabric up as I went, and drop kisses over the divot of his spine. The late evening sun slanted in through the kitchen windows, a rich golden tone—I wanted to spread Heath out on the island to see that pretty color fall across his skin.
Fuck. Crazy thoughts. I nearly chopped my forefinger off thinking about it.
Of course I couldn’t. If I started touching Heath, I was fairly sure I wouldn’t be able to stop—and I wasn’t sure if he would stop me, not when he seemed so desperate for me to see him as willing.
Heath turned and peered at me, eyes wide and waiting. “What next?”
“Make sure it’s completely dry,” I said. “That’ll be our prep space.”
Heath nodded and sprang into action, grabbing a clean towel to wipe down the sanitized kitchen island.
I was beginning to get a better idea of who Heath was—he wasn’t cagey, not on purpose, he was just a little shy. Definitely had some self-esteem issues: that was the only reason he would’ve thought my reaction in his bedroom was one of disgust instead of desire.
And that definitely lit something up in me. I wanted him to see himself the way I saw him: pretty, sweet, magnetic. Good. Wanted to whisper those compliments into his ear as I fucked him.
Had to put the knife down. This was getting dangerous.
Heath finished drying the island then drew his finger across the surface, checking it. He nodded, satisfied, and then turned back to me, eyes expectant. I could really get used to this. And I couldn’t quite resist—
“Good,” I said. When what I really wanted to say was: Good boy.
A flush rose in Heath’s cheeks as he bit back a smile.
“Go ahead and sprinkle some flour on the island,” I instructed. “We’re mostly going to focus on the construction of the pie today. The actual dough-making comes later.”
“Too advanced?” Heath asked.
He sidled up next to me and opened the cabinet above me, stretching again onto his tiptoes so his lean body became one elegant line. He was so close to the shelf, but still a little too short to reach it—his fingers scrabbled at the edge of the flour bag. Without thinking, I set my hand at his lower back to steady him.
Heath inhaled a little sharply, and then glanced at me as he chewed on his lower lip, still reaching.
“I got it,” I said, low.
He lowered back onto his heels. My hand was still at his lower back. I grabbed the flour and set it on the countertop.