Tempting Adeline

13

ADELINE

Thank God it’s my day off today. It’s time to look for a muse. I rolled over, my feet touching the cold spot of the floor. Even though I didn’t know much of Wesley’s schedule for the day, I secretly hoped he’ll be back early.

I thought about Croix and the whole muse thing and I decided against it. I’m not single anymore and my boyfriend is also cute and all so I can use him. Also, I don’t think Wesley will appreciate me using Croix as my muse, right?

I throw on some oversized sweater, tossing my mess of hair into a messy bun and head for my lifeline, the coffee machine. But as soon as I opened the door, I’m hit with the aroma of freshly ground beans and the back of a certain someone’s head.

Ugh. There’s no escaping him.

Walking into the kitchen, I brushed past him, grabbed my favourite coffee mug, sensing his eyes over me as I poured myself a cup. I know it’s been awkward lately since that night but it’s the first time I’m seeing him since then, of course it’ll be awkward.

I sigh against the counter and turn to face him. He’s shirtless as expected, his long hair is a mess but it’s giving that effortless out of bed look and he pairs it with a smirk that is close to a smile making him so unfortunately attractive. I wonder how he looks when he actually smiles.

“What are you so happy about? It’s not even nine.” I groan, crinkling my nose.

He slides down from his seat, crossing his arm behind his head, clearly unaware of how disgustingly perfect that makes him look, and shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I’m a happy kind of guy.”

The comment made by the moodiest person I’ve ever known made my buckle over with laughter. “You must be insane.” I shake my head putting some creamer in my cup.

“Nahhh, you owe me a favour.” He smirked, pouring more coffee for himself. He doesn’t drink coffee. Why is he doing that now? And why do I know what he likes? Bad Adeline.

I stare at him trying to figure him out with a glance as I lean against the kitchen counter. He sits forward in his seat, eyes on mine as well. We stay like that for a minute or two but it has been the weirdest feeling I’ve ever felt when staring into someone’s eyes.

“Well I’m sure you have plans today-“

“I don’t.” He answers immediately, eyes still glued to mine.

I suck in a breath and blow out. “Okay...”

“Okay well, wanna watch a movie or something?” I don't have any appointments today so I think I’m bored as hell.” He muttered, spreading his legs. “But I know a couple of other interesting things we can do aside from watching movies. And it involves pene...”

“Fine, I'll watch a movie with you. Let me just bake some cookies. It’s a comfort food of mine.” I smile, feeling the nostalgia hitting me.

“I know.” He mumbled. I turned to him, eyes narrowed in confusion. I have never told anyone that I love cookies especially when I’m stressed except Markie. I shrugged, it must be a hard guess. He noticed my confusion and mumbled. “I guessed. You look like a cookie girl.”

I sighed, must be the stress. Of course, it’s a hard guess. There is no freaking way he would have known unless he was spying whenever I had conversations with my best friend. Speaking of her, she hasn’t been online for a while. I hope she’s okay.

I got to work. I made a small batch for just me. I didn’t think he’d like to eat cookies.

With all that build, he must like protein shakes and eggs. I made them in a small basket and took them to the sitting room.

I saw him still seated but staring at a painting I made but kept it in the sitting room for decoration. The house has to look homely. A girl is here for goodness’ sake. His eyes fell on me, then the basket in my arms.

“I’ll pick the movie.” I broke the silence.

“We can watch it here, right? I don’t suppose there is a movie room somewhere.”

“Yeah there is. This house is big after all but it hasn’t been cleaned for a while.” He said dryly.

I kept my cookie basket and rushed upstairs and took a quick sweep of my room, took out my chest and searched for my favourite DVD packs but on going out, I looked at myself in the mirror. I felt this urge to straighten my hair a bit or maybe apply makeup. I blow my breath into my palm. f**k, my breath smelled bad.

I wanted to brush my teeth fast but, on second thought, he is just my brother. He wouldn’t mind his sister’s smelly breath. I took a mint just in case and stepped out.

I stifled a laugh at his expression when he caught sight of the movies I brought over.

“Not a Mandy Moore fan?” I teased, popping the DVD into the player and curling up on the couch while the pre movie credits played. I still owned DVDs just like I owned paperback books. To me, there was something so magical holding onto something you love and cherish.

“I don’t have anything against Mandy Moore or melodrama.” He shrugged, his hand reaching for the basket. I slapped his hand away.

“It’s not for you. It’s for me.” I said firmly, my brows creased into a deep frown. Don’t judge me though, I love my cookies. “I didn’t think you'd like cookies so I made it for myself.”

“Oh...but you owe me a favour.” He smirked. “Watching movies is something I can do on my own but baking those delicious looking red velvet cookies, not at all.”

“Fine, I’ll give you but don’t be too greedy.” I swallowed hard at the view of the workings of his muscles when he reached for the basket. I purposefully didn’t pass it so he could give me this drool worthy sight. I have to tell Markie somehow.

“It’s not melodrama but it’s romance.” I said, looking away when his eyes caught mine. I hope he’ll not notice how hot I am.

“Doesn’t she die in the end?”

“What a way to spoil it.” I grumbled.

He shot me a disbelieving look. “You’ve already watched it.”

“Don’t give me drama for watching my favourite movie again. I’ll pick it up again in a heartbeat. But have you watched it?”

“I know what happened. People won’t shut up about it.”

“Shh...” I nudged his leg with my foot. “The movie is starting.”

I loved A WALK TO REMEMBER, but I snuck peeks at Croix throughout the film, hoping to get some reaction from him.

None.Nada. Not when the wedding happened and the star chart scene and even my favourite part, the beach scene.

“How are you not crying?” I demanded, brushing the strands of my hair that stuck to my wet face from crying. “This movie is so sad.”

“It’s fiction, Little Del.” He grimaced. “Stop crying.”

“I can’t stop. It’s like a biological reaction to this movie. I can’t stop crying about it.”

“Biological reactions can be mastered. You can stop the tears now.” His frown got deeper and he crossed his arms.

I couldn’t resist. I scooted closer, pushed his shoulders forward and ran my palm down his back.

His muscles bunched beneath my touch.

“What,” He said in a tight, controlled voice.

“Are you doing?”

“I’m searching for your control panel.” I patted his back trying, and failing not to notice the sculpted contours of his muscles. I received a stony glare in response. See? Robot.

“Do you have to swap out your batteries?” I teased. “Or are you rechargeable?”

I yelped when he grabbed my arm and spun me around until I straddled one of his legs. My blood roared in my ears as he tightened his grip on my wrist, not to hurt but as a warning that he could break me.

The playful atmosphere dissolved in milliseconds and I could see the desire in his eyes. His face was a blank canvas but the eyes are the window to the soul and the line has never been truer at this moment.

“I am your sister.” I whispered. He looked at my lips then my eyes then back and smirked.

“Sure you are. But sisters never stare at their brothers the way you stare at me.” He whispered, his thumb coming to caress my lips, dragging the rough skin over my soft ones. “No brother would do this to their sister. Let’s be honest for once, we are not siblings.”

Beneath those jaded pools of ice, I see a spark of something that sends heat through my stomach.

A knock echoed outside.