Andrew's POV
"That is way too much vanilla," Jem chuckled but did nothing to stop me as the liquid continued to flow over the measuring spoon and into the bowl below it.
"Can you fix it," I asked with a frown.
"I can try."
Today was my first day off in a while. Ever since I started working at the camp for troubled kids, it was hard to find time for myself. Most therapists who worked there had certain hours and if you missed them you missed them; nothing you can do about it but I had never liked the idea of that.
The first time someone in my cabin needed me and I wasn't there was the last time I stuck to set times and opted for just always being at camp. Sadly that camp couldn't pay all my bills and while I loved working there, I didn't want to stay there forever so I finally joined a practice.
Now working two jobs made it even harder to get common days off.
I had requested this day off from camp weeks ago and purposely didn't book any appointments at the new practice. Of course that was before I was shot at and almost died. I had hoped to use the day to go out and spend the day spending money I didn't have and unwinding but when I mentioned going anywhere he shot it down quickly, saying it wasn't safe it. It sucked and I didn't like it but I knew he was right so I didn't bother fighting it.
In attempts to lift my spirits he marched into the kitchen with a smug smile and began pulling things out with a quick promise to teach me how to make chocolate chip cookies.
His smile never faded as he patiently fixed every mistake I made, even the ones I did on purpose to see if his patients had a limit.
"All fixed," he said as he scooped out what he could of the extra vanilla. "Now all you have to do is mix it up and make sure everything is mushed together and put it in the oven for a little bit."
"Don't you have an actually mixer," I asked as I looked at the wooden spoon he held out to me.
"You don't need one of those when you have arms like these," he teased, flexing his biceps a bit.
"What if you have arms like mine?"
"You suffer until it's mixed well enough."
I huffed at his answer as I took the spoon and turned back to the mostly dry batter as Jem watched in silence.
"Is this right," I asked as I stirred it in circles but it wasn't really mixing.
"Not really," he chuckled. I didn't have a chance to ask him to fix it before I felt his breath on my neck. I could feel him looming over me, only inches away from touching each other. "Do you want me to show you?"
I only nod, not trusting my voice as my cheeks become too warm for my liking.
He doesn't say a word as he took a small step forward. His right hand covered mine gently while his left gripped mine as we held the bowl in place.
I barely paid attention to how he mixed or for how long he did it. I just stared at the batter helpless as his breath tickled my neck.
"Doesn't that look so much better," he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.
I forced myself to nod as he backed away, allowing my lungs to suck in their first breath of air since he came up behind me.
"Now just make small balls of it and put them a few inches apart on the pan," he said as if nothing had happened.
My cheeks were still burning up but I didn't wait for them to cool down before doing what Jem said.
Soon enough the first batch was in the oven, leaving Jem and I alone with nothing to do for fifteen minutes.
"So now what do we do?"
"Whatever you want I guess. I usually work on the couch but I'll leave that for later since I doubt that's entertaining for you."
"No working can be done today, not when it's my day off."
"I said I would be working, I never said you had to," he said with a small chuckle as he put his arms on the bar and leaned on it.
"I don't care. No working at all because it will make me feel bad for not working."
"Fine," he said with an eye roll. "What do you want to do then?" His voice remained light but the look in his eyes became playful and naughty.
"I don't know," I admit after a while. His smile reappeared as he pushed himself off the bar with a silent laugh.
"You know how to play poker?"
"I know the gist of it."
"You wanna play a few rounds?"
"I have a feeling that you way too good at that game for me to even have a chance."
"I'll take it easy on you," he promised as he walked to the coffee table in the living room and pulled out the small drawer that I didn't even know was there.
"You have to let me when at least once."
"Of course," was all he said as he sat down at the bar and began passing out cards.
The next hour was spent between us going back and forth between fixing cookies and playing the game I had no hope of winning if he was playing for real.
Jem was good to say the least.
He let me win more than a few hands but the look in his eyes even when he won was enough to tell me that he wasn't even really trying.
"Next time we play we'll have to make it more interesting," Jem said with his usual smile as he packed the cards away.
"And how would we do that? Play for keeps?"
"Play for clothes coming off," he teased before putting the cards back where they belonged. "But you might want to practice a bit more before we decided to play that way."
I didn't have to look at him to know he was smirking but his words alone were enough to make my stomach twist and my face to heat up.
"God you are so fun to tease," he said to himself as he looked at his phone for the time.
"Shut up!"
"How can I when you look so hot when you blush? It makes me wonder what you look like doing other things."
"This is the opposite of shutting up," I sighed as I buried my face in my hands.
"I swear I could tease you for hours and never get tired of it," he chuckled as he came closer.
His breath returned to my neck, causing me to instantly still. His fingers brushed against me sides lightly while his nose played with the shell of my ear.
I squeak leaves my throat before I have a chance to stop it when his lips fall between my neck and my shoulder.
My hands stay glued to my face as he placed light kisses on any exposed skin he could reach.
"Do you want me to stop," he whispered when I remained stiff. I shook my head, not trusting my words. "Patrick and Devon will be home any second now. Are you sure you don't want me to stop?"
That was enough for me to snap out of my daze.
My head snapped up as I stood up from the bar stool and stared at the door.
Jem's laugh echoed through the house.
It wasn't a chuckle, it wasn't a huff with a smile, and it didn't have a bit of sarcasm laced with it. It was a real laugh.
"God I love this," he sighed to himself when he was finally done.
I opened my mouth to tell him off but my words died in my mouth when the door opened, revealing Devon and Patrick as they stepped inside.
"Love what," Devon asked skeptically as he shot me a glare.
I waited for Jem to make the teasing public to turn it into humiliation but it didn't come. He just smiled and shook his head as my face continued to burn.
"Don't worry about it," Jem dismissed. "There's cookies in the cake plate if you want them," he said as he headed to the couch while Patrick sent me a questioning look that I didn't bother answering.
Last updated December 26, 2021
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