I cough and he slowly turns towards me with a smile on his face. “And you call me a caffeine addict.” I smirk.
He chuckles lightly but doesn’t say anything. I lean against the counter, observing him work. My eyes involuntarily drift down to his hand, specifically the prominent veins running along his forearm. He pours the coffee into a mug and extends it towards me. I looked at him, puzzled as to why he is offering it to me. His usual playfulness is not visible on his face. He clears his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing, and I almost want to hit myself for noticing these small details.
“Umm...” He rubs his nape and gives me a sheepish smile. “I made it for you actually,” he says softly. “I mean, caffeine-deficient you are a menace to society, right?” he adds hurriedly.
I stare at this huge man, taken aback. He has no obligation to do this, none at all. In fact, he should be getting rid of me by now, considering how painfully weak and clingy I was yesterday, and here he is, not only offering me breakfast but also making coffee for me. How in the hell is it possible for me to ever not get this fluttery feeling around him? I mean, after all, I am just a girl. I accept his coffee wordlessly.
As I take a sip, my eyes widen. I am almost speechless, but I manage to speak. “Is it…?” My voice comes out thick with emotion.
“Yes. A caramel mocha with an extra shot of espresso,” he whispers, his eyes roaming over my face. He not only remembered my order but also brewed it for me. The gesture touches more than just my taste buds. As I watch him looking at my face, his eyes roaming all over, I can feel a tight sensation in my chest. I take another sip of the coffee, trying to mask the swirling emotions inside me. I want tocry, dammit; no one has ever done this for me.
“You know how to make it?” I ask slowly, not having enough courage to face his eyes.
“No,” he mutters. “I learned it.”
I inhale sharply. I can’t help but feel my heart skip a beat. “I just wanted to learn about coffee in general,” he adds. I look up at him. Our eyes meet, but he immediately looks elsewhere. “I mean, you were praising your coffee so much, so I just thought…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, and honestly, I don’t want him to.
“Thank you,” I reply quietly. He looks at me, his eyes scanning my features for a moment. I can see a faint blush crawl on his cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s perfect,” I say, meeting his eyes, my smile widening as I set the mug down.
“It’s no big deal. Don’t make it something it’s not,” he mutters, and I chuckle lightly to hide the disappointment bubbling in my chest. It’s definitely a big deal to me. I take another sip, the taste of the coffee bringing a wave of comfort.
“Okay, now that coffee is done, what do you want for breakfast?” he asks in an attempt to lighten the mood. He rolls up his sleeves, and I almost choke on the coffee because,wow, he looks too sexy. He raises his eyebrows. I just give him a forced smile. He reaches out and gives me a few light pats on my back. I clear my throat, a blush creeping onto my cheeks as I attempt to compose myself.
“I am fine.” I cough. “Anything will do,” I murmur, slightly distracted by his veiny arms.
“You’re going to taste my pancakes then.” My eyes widen and I mentally hit myself for giving everything a double meaning.
He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans against the counter. “What?” I croak, desperately trying to control the blush that creeps onto my cheeks.
“Nothing.” He chuckles, his voice laced with amusement.
“So, what’re you waiting for?” My voice falters, my brain struggling to come up with a retort. “Start working.”
He just laughs, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “Yes, ma’am.” He mocks a salute, and I roll my eyes as he starts preparing the batter mix.
He moves around the kitchen with an ease that is strangely attractive. I can’t help but watch as he effortlessly whisks the ingredients together, his muscles flexing under the fabric of his black sweatshirt. He pours the mixture into a hot pan. The pancakes sizzle and bubble, the smell of fresh batter filling the air.
He expertly cooks the pancakes, flipping them with a swiftness that is both impressive and hot. I am definitely not this swift. I need to mentally prepare myself, scream, and shout at Arnav, and I still end up breaking it into two halves. He plates two fluffy pancakes and I can hardly contain my anticipation. He brings the plate over, setting it in front of me, the stack of pancakes still steaming. I inhale the aroma, my mouth watering. I hadn’t realized I was starving until now.
I take a bite of one of the pancakes, the flavors exploding in my mouth, and I let out an involuntary moan of pleasure. I look up at him. His eyes darken. “These are incredible,” I manage to mutter as I look away, focusing on the pancakes. He takes the seat across from me. I swallow. The pancakes are so good I could cry. “You’re not going to have any?” I ask as I finish chewing.
“I prefer to watch,” he says as a devilish grin makes its way to his face. I roll my eyes. I am highly aware of his intense gaze, but nothing can stop me from devouring these pancakes, so I ignore him as much as I can. It’s difficult to ignore someone who is as tall as him.
As soon as I am done, I push the chair back and get up. “I will get going,” I announce. He doesn’t say anything, butI still add, “My brother is going to kill me. I didn’t even tell him where I was.” I give him a sheepish smile. I walk toward the door without glancing back because I cannot, for the love of coffee, face him.
“Firecracker,” he says quietly. I can feel his presence behind me. “I meant it yesterday,” he whispers in my ear. I inhale sharply, feeling his breath on my nape. “You will conquer the world someday,” he says, his tone gentle yet firm.
“Thank you,” I murmur. I look at him over my shoulder. “For everything.” And before he can respond, I hurry out, taking the stairs this time.
∞∞∞
17
ANYA
“Where the hell were you, Anya Mehra?!” my brother yells as soon as I enter the apartment. I wince. Oh no, I am dead. I turn around, closing the door behind me. There’s only one way to calm him down. I walk towards him slowly, stopping only a few centimeters away. I look up at him; he’s glaring at me angrily. I wrap my arms around him slowly. He stiffens only for a moment and then hugs me back. I close my eyes and sigh. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentle this time. I nod into his chest.
“I got stuck in the elevator yesterday,” I explain silently. My brother pulls away, eyeing me carefully.
