“All it takes is Starbucks?” I smirk. “Duly noted.”
She playfully rolls her eyes at me, and I laugh. The oven beeps, and she places the bread pan inside, which gives me a nice view of her ass as she bends over.
She notices and immediately frowns. “No mischief,” she warns.
“I never agreed to that.”
“I’m here to help you with your recovery, and that’s all,” she states in a firm tone, but I don’t believe a word of it. I know her way too well. She’s only saying it aloud to convince herself.
“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
She furrows her brows, keeping a safe distance from me, knowing damn well that if I were able, I’d show her exactly what I mean.
“How is it that you bruise your ribs and get all cut up, and you’re still unable to behave yourself?”
I step toward her, trying to ignore the pain in my rib cage, and wrap my arms around her waist. She watches my every move, her breath hitching the closer I lean into her. My lips brush against hers, tasting the sweet coffee flavor against mine.
I hear her groan as I deepen the kiss, but pull away before going any further.
“Nothing could come between my lips and your body, Princess. Bruised ribs or not, I’ll suffer through just to be close to you.”
She smiles up at me, but it’s soon replaced with a frown. “I bet you were the worst patient ever.”
“Only around the hot nurses.” I wink.
She groans again. “You aren’t going to make this easy for me, are you?”
I press my lips to hers again. “And what fun would that be?”
After the banana bread is done, she sets it down to cool. It smells fucking amazing, and I’m tempted to start eating it right out of the pan.
“You have to wait,” she warns. “It tastes best when it’s just the right temperature. Warm but not hot.”
“That’s torture,” I whine as we sit on the couch with only a small throw pillow between us. “Coming in here, smelling up my house with banana bread and coffee and you, and I can’t have any of it.” I pout, getting a laugh out of her.
“I guess it’s time you learn one of life’s hard lessons.” She puckers her lips. “Travis King doesn’t always win.”
I toss the pillow and her laughter brings a smile to my face. “The king always wins, Princess.”
“I’m not so sure…” She pinches her lips and taps a finger against her bottom lip. “But making you work for it just might be what you need to shrink that big head of yours.”
“Never had an issue with working for what I want.” I grab her hand and kiss the finger she was just tapping against her mouth. “But I was hoping we were done playing games now that…” I let the words rest on my lips in hopes she gets what I’m trying to say.
“That what?”
“That we can be in the same room together without the urge to kill one another.”
“Just because you kissed me doesn’t mean the urge went away.” She spits it out without missing a beat, making me smile at her words.
“Well, I guess some things never change.” I pull her closer, forcing her to be right next to me. We’re both on the couch, facing each other, neither caring what’s on the TV anymore. “Like my feelings for you, Viola. Since I was twelve years old. I always knew there was something between us, even before I wasn’t old enough to understand what those feelings meant.”
“Yeah, I had feelings for you, too.” She pauses with a grin. “Feelings of hate.”
“Viola…” I hiss under my breath, knowing damn well she’s making this much harder than it has to be. “Why are you being so difficult?”
“Because it’s fun to see you sweating for once,” she answers honestly, flashing a victorious smile.
“Well, mission accomplished, smart-ass. Now would you drop the act and just listen to me?”