Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2) - R.S. Grey Page 0,29
ingredients in a mixing bowl. It looked like by the end of her baking session, we’d have enough bread to host a community-wide bake sale.
“Let me try some more,” I said, pointing to the banana bread.
She smiled. “Only if I’m allowed to keep using your oven.”
I stared between her and the bread. On one hand, I really liked my privacy. That’s why I’d put the team in the guesthouse in the first place. On the other hand, I really fucking loved banana bread. I shrugged and reached behind me for a plate in the cupboard. “Whatever. Just make sure to clean up after.”
She grinned and turned to the refrigerator to grab a carton of milk. “Want some?”
When she turned back to hand me the carton, I noticed two things at once. First, Brie wasn’t wearing a bra. I hadn’t noticed at first because her tank top was loose and Brie was petite, but then she shifted and I caught the outline of her breast beneath the loose material. Suddenly, I was fully aware of the fact that Brie was a beautiful woman, standing bra-less in my kitchen. Instead of dwelling on that fact, I had to force myself to focus on the second thing that caught my attention: she had a little tattoo running horizontally across her ribcage. I caught the edge of it and leaned forward to capture her arm to hold it up so I could see it clearer.
“What’s that? Ink?” I asked.
She glanced down to where I was looking. Thin black letters barely peeked out of the armhole of her tank top.
She smirked. “Yeah. It’s a tattoo.”
She was mocking me.
“I can see that. Aren’t you a little young for a tattoo?”
She narrowed her eyes, annoyed. “I’m twenty.”
“What does it say?” I asked, ignoring her glare.
She reached down to move the loose material aside and I struggled to resist the urge to skim my knuckle across her skin. It looked so soft there, creamy white, not nearly as tan as her arms and legs. The scrolling tattoo started an inch away from the bottom of her breast and stretched horizontally toward her back. It was so subtle and small, I would have missed it had I not been so close.
“Unbreakable,” I read.
She nodded.
“Does it have a meaning or did you just like the movie?”
She laughed and shook her head. “It’s a reminder to myself.”
“Huh, I like it,” I said, dropping her arm so I could pour myself a glass of milk and try to compartmentalize Brie in my mind. In the gym, it was easy. There was a buffer between us. There were other people around us, other people to focus on and coach. There in my kitchen, as I took a seat across the island and watched her bake, I had to keep reminding myself she was there to use my oven, nothing more.
She stuck her finger in to taste the batter in the mixing bowl and smiled. I found myself smiling with her before realizing what I was doing. I wiped my mouth and took another bite of banana bread.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Blueberry muffins.”
My brows arched with interest.
She glanced up and the morning light caught her eyes, brightening the dark brown to an alluring golden hue. She smiled. “Don’t worry. You can eat these too.”
She finished stirring the batter and bent down to root through the cupboard beside the stove, most likely looking for a muffin pan. I was about to tell her to stop looking—I didn’t have one—when she leaned forward and I caught a glimpse down the front of her tank top. I could see the full curve of her perky breasts, the same creamy skin I’d wanted to touch a moment before. She shifted lower and I nearly caught sight of her nipples. Another inch forward and fuck.
“Brie,” I said, voice low.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Her head whipped up and a few more strands of brown hair fell out of her braid. I was about to tell her to go home and put a bra on, but I didn’t want to embarrass her or admit I’d been looking. Christ. The whole situation was wrong. It’d been wrong from the very start. I should have spoken up on day one, should have kicked her out the second I walked downstairs, but instead she was in my kitchen, encroaching on my space and pushing me to the brink of self-control.
“What?” she asked, standing back up. “Is it not good?”
Seriously? Was she seriously asking me about fucking banana