Chapter Eleven

There is a kitchen upstairs and a kitchen downstairs, Skye tells me as we make our way to the one upstairs. He seems pretty proud of his home and I smile in encouragement, but really I’m too flustered from our little interaction in the bedroom to really focus on anything he’s saying. If only he had taken me then and there… Mmmm…

“Lena, are you paying attention to me?”

Professor Skye’s stern voice instantly pulls me out of my sexy day dream. “I’m sorry… What?” I ask. I can feel my face warming- damn my natural reflex to blush at every little thing!

Professor Skye frowns at me. “One hell of an awakening indeed…” He mumbles to himself as we enter a large, professional style kitchen.

I shouldn’t be surprised. I know Professor Skye is richer than most- but does he really need a kitchen to compete with Gordon Ramsay’s? Whoa, I mouth, because this is seriously amazing. I’ve always loved cooking (even considered going to culinary school for a bit). I couldn’t definitely get down in here.

“What would you like?” He asks me, padding over to one of the two stainless steel fridges in the room.

I raise my eyebrows at him. “You cook?” Why does this surprise me? Probably because I expected some little servant girl to pop up out of nowhere and do it for us- after all, he’s pretty rich.

“Of course.” He says, throwing a smirk at me over his shoulder and, once again, I flush a bright red.

How is he good at everything? I wonder… and then realize he’s still waiting on me to answer. “Um… Can you do French omelettes?” My stomach makes an embarrassingly loud grumble at the thought.

“Two French omelettes coming up.” He replies, gathering the makings from the fridge.

I couldn’t help but admire the smooth rhythm at which his hand moved as he beat the eggs into oblivion. “Is there anything I can help with?” I asked, feeling awkward just standing around while he did everything.

“Sure. You can shred from cheese for us to sprinkle on top. I believe there’s some mozzarella in the fridge.” He gustered to the opposite fridge of the one he had gotten his ingredients from. I scuff at his idea of “help” but decide to let it slide.

I nodded and we both got straight to work/


The omelettes were delicious- no lie. If I hadn’t watched him make them himself, I honestly would have thought they had been made by a master chef. I finished my entire plate and damn near licked it clean.

“While you were in the shower, I cancelled my appointments today.” Skye said as he carried our plates over to the stainless steel sink.

I swallow a large swig of my coffee and quickly reply, “Oh! You don’t have to do that for me. I don’t want to be burden.” The words leave my lips, but I’m secretly pleased that I’m his main priority. It feels nice to be…wanted. I’ve never felt that before.

“Don’t be silly.” He replies, turning and leaning against the side of the sink. He crosses his legs and then his arms, and smiles at me. God, he looks like such a…professor when he does that. Why is that such a turn on? “We have a lot to do today.” He adds teasingly.

My stomach flutters. “Like what?” I breathe… Surely he doesn’t mean….

“Well, first of all, we have get you a condo. You did tell your roommate you’re moving out, correct?”

Holy smokes. How does he know that? Did I tell him? I don’t remember… “Yes.”

“Good. We’ll get that taken care of this morning. I’ve scheduled a few appointments for you- and I think you’ll greatly apperciate them.” His eyes sparkle with some secret hidden just beneath the surface.


“Yes.” He narrows his icy eyes at me, as if daring me to argue, but why would?

“Okay.” I reply. It seems I’ve surprised him with my response because he opens his mouth to say something and then quickly closes it, dumbfounded. I never would have thought I would use that word to describe Professor Skye.

Skye presses his lips tightly together. It’s as though he can read my thoughts, and he doesn’t look too pleased. “Are you finished?” He asks me as I take my last sip of coffee.

“Yep.” I reply, sanding my hands on my jeans and standing up. “Where to first boss?” I want him to say the bedroom, but, of course, I am disappointed. There are things we have to do today. I know that.

He glides across the kitchen and catches my hand in his. He brushes his fingers against my cheeks, gently flushed from the warmth of the steam from the coffee. “You’re truly beautiful. Do you know that?”

“No.” I admit in a whisper. I don’t know I’m beautiful. No one had ever used such a word to describe me before. Sadie- plently of times…but not me. I feel a surge of butterflies flapping away in my stomach. Does he truly believe that? The look in his eyes say yes…

“Why else do you think I couldn’t keep myself away from you? You’re so much more than you think, Lena.” His hand rises to my hair and his fingers play with the loose locks.

This is getting embarrassing. I gently pull away. I can see that he doesn’t like that, and I suppose I understand why. We do have an argeement. To sooth the water, I try to reach up and touch his face, but he stops my hand right before it makes contact.

“We have to get going if we want to make those appointment.” He says and he smiles at me, but it seems forced. He lowers our hands and twists his fingers with mine.

“Right.” I reply. That was odd. Why won’t he let me touch him?

I frown to myself, musing, as we head down the stairs and to the Impala.



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