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Writer's pictureMelissa Hunter

Is my hotness too much for you?


“We like to travel in style,” Bob said. Bob was so easygoing and likable I could see how the chicks fell in line for him week after week. He stood up, and the blanket fell off of his lap as he was only wearing a pair of plaid boxers I looked away. “Is my hotness too much for you?” he teased.

“Ha, no,” I said. Jeez, good comeback, Maggie.

“I could help you get over your shyness.” He winked. “Just say the word, babe.” He added, and I blushed. “Let me get us some coffee,” Bob offered.

“Oh thanks,” I said. “But I don't drink coffee.”

“Oh that’s right. Ethan said something about you being all innocent, but you don't even drink coffee?” He continued. “Have you ever tried it?”

“No, I don't like it.” Another weak excuse. Bob grabbed a mug and was pouring freshly brewed coffee from the coffee maker that sat on the counter. The warm steam of the black brew flowed up into the slightly cooler air. I read the saying on the plain white mug, it said, “Ladies my eyes are up here↑.” Bob snuck a glance at me as he poured creamer into it for my sake knowing black would be too bitter for a first timer.

“How do you know if you haven’t tried it?” he asked glancing at me provocatively. “Here have a sip of mine.” He was so alluring I couldn’t turn him down, and I seriously hoped he didn’t offer me any illegal drugs because if he did, I would most likely scoop it up like ice cream and scarf it down. His smooth voice impossible to say no to.

“Holy crap! That’s good!” I added amazed as the hot creamy sweet liquid warmed my tummy. “Yum.”

“Yep!” he added confidently like he had just won the war of bringing me over to the dark side. “Okay great now how about some pancakes then? Everyone loves pancakes.”

That right, Bob’s the cook of the group. “Sure that sounds great. I’m starving.”

I had forgotten to eat breakfast before I left and it was still pretty early when I found Big Bertha. Bob handed me his cup of coffee again after taking a swig encouraging me to have more, the warm liquid felt delightful.

“Good, I love a hungry girl.” Bob couldn’t help but add in some more flirting.

For such a small kitchen, Bob was really working it. He pulled out a large cup with some already made up pancake mix from the small fridge and was grilling the flapjacks up in no time.

“Don’t worry,” he added, “These pancakes are infused with whole wheat and protein as to not do any harm to your girlish figure.” Seriously how does he do that? I blushed. He continued on and easily reached into the fridge and got out some fresh fruit and a canister of whipped cream. Bob looked at the whipped cream and then looked at me suggestively. I’m sure he had a clever comment inside that brain of his, but he let that particular one go.

“Wow look at you!” I said, “You really know what you’re doing.”

“Oh yeah, that’s what she said!”

I couldn’t help laughing out loud. Bob looked like he belonged in a new reality TV show called America’s Next Hot Chef. He stood half naked and had the whipped cream in one hand and a spatula in his other. Like a professional Bob scraped up one of the pancakes with the spatula acting out his new part and flipped it in the air. I could tell there was no way he could catch it with the spatula again because it was soaring right toward me, I leaned back a little to get out of the way, but Bob was still trying to save the flying saucer pancake and hurtling toward me. Everything turned to slow motion, Bob tripped on the rug and we smashed into the little table that was behind me. As he fell into me I bent over the table backward, my body stopped his fall, his arm automatically wrapping around me to keep me from tumbling down. Whipped cream squirted out of the canister getting everywhere, we both cracked up. Bob tactfully swiped a bit of cream off my cheek with his finger and sucked it off, sending my head into a blur for a moment.

“What's all the commotion out here?” Ethan said as he opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom wearing just a towel wrapped around his waist. To his surprise, he saw Bob and I in a very compromised position and laughing hysterically. Bob was only in boxers. Ethan stood there a moment taking in the circumstances of our awkward positioning, reading into the situation. Stunned to see him I immediately pushed Bob off of me and stood up straight.

“Maggie, what are you doing here?” Ethan was visibly concerned possibly even mad. I could read his lips as he silently dropped the F-bomb. Crap he was mad, but why?

“I drove up to see if I could find you guys.” I fidgeted suddenly second guessing my decision.

“On a school day?” He furrowed his brow as he questioned me. Ethan was pissed, but I couldn't tell if he was angry at me or at Bob? Maybe he didn't want me here, maybe I had got the wrong idea, and it wasn't really an open invitation. I assumed since he had gone through the effort of finding out where I lived and was looking for me that he would like to see me.

“Is your fiancé here to kill Bob for no reason? Nice rock by the way!” Ouch, so it was obvious he was irritated with me. Bob glanced down at my ring.

“Holy crap! I didn’t even notice it.” Bob looked stunned.

“You rarely notice those things,” Ethan added condescendingly. Something seemed off with Ethan today. Bob was glaring at my ring when out of nowhere a tall, thin, model of a girl with scarcely any clothes on smoothly appeared from out of the back hallway. My mouth dropped open at the sight of her.

“Ethaaan, what took you so long I've been waiting?” Her sensual voice, hummed as she reached out and pulled on Ethan’s towel. Ethan looked like a deer caught in headlights. He looked at Bob and then looked at me as she pulled him by the towel back to the small bedroom. Whoever she was she didn’t even blink an eye in my direction. I doubt she even knew I was there; that women only had one thing on her mind.

As soon as the little bedroom door shut, I mumbled a quiet, “Who is that?” I could barely squeak out the words, I was trying not to look completely shattered.

“Crap we better get out of here,” Bob said. “Trust me on this Maggie, you don't want to come knocking if this baby's a rocking. Hurry, grab some pancakes!” He grabbed his shirt and shorts and a blanket off the bed and pushed me out the door.


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