The Hots (mxm)

2. The Hots (Alec)

   Sam steps aside, opening a small gap in the door frame, and nods me to enter. It is really narrow. There is no other way to get in but to squeeze between him and the wall. I stare, waiting for him to move away some more. The guy shows no intention to do it.

   "Sorry, I can't lead the way," he says, faking an apologetic look. The smirk is still lingering on his lips. "Unless you want to have a full view of my naked ass."

   My face instantly gets hotter. The tips of my ears are undoubtedly glowing in red. I hesitate for a while, but finally decide to go for it. It would be stupid to give up after making it this far. Our noses almost touch while I slide between his body and the wall. Our chests rub against each other. The front of my shirt gets wet.

   Why the hell is this hallway so narrow?

   His hand holding the towel over his crotch brushes my thigh. The shades of red on my face are brighter than the sun. I pin my eyes to the floor and stop a few steps away from him, unsure which way to go.

   "First door to the left," Sam mutters with some weird tone in his voice. "Just give me five minutes, and I'll be with you."

   I quickly move ahead and almost throw myself through the mentioned door. My hands are shaking. "It's because of the awkward situation," I try to convince myself, not very successfully.

   It is a vast space that I have just entered. There is a sitting area to my left and an open kitchen to the right. The colors are light. The whole wall in front of me is occupied by large French windows, leading to a lush, green backyard. They are framed by ivory, linen curtains with small Eiffel Towers, printed all over them.

   Food and drink magazines are scattered on the coffee table and the beige sectional sofa. Tall, clattered bookcases cover two of the walls. The kitchen island and the cabinets' surfaces have shiny, warm espresso colors. Everything is very stylish. Not that I expected Sam to live in a cave, but to be honest, I was rather picturing black leather and a creative mess everywhere.

   "It's really nice," I mumble, looking around the sun-lit, cozy room.

   "Thanks!" Sam's voice comes too close behind me, making me jump.

   "Take a seat." He chuckles, pointing to the sofa. "Stop freaking out. I won't bite you."

   Thank God, he is fully dressed now.

   The loose, white t-shirt and the pair of soft, black sweatpants are quite ordinary but somehow look gorgeous on him. His wet hair is tucked behind his ears. My gaze wanders over his bare feet and tattooed forearms. How can anyone look so good in such a casual way? I shake my head to distract myself as I am fully aware that I am ogling him. What is wrong with me?

   "Alec?" Sam clears his throat. I peek at his face. He is actually smiling at me. I am stunned. This is something new. I do not remember ever seeing him do it before. He shrugs. "You can also stand straight in the middle of the room if you prefer. I don't mind."

    I frown and flop on the sofa.

   "I am not freaking out. You just have the habit of sneaking silently behind people. Make some noise when you approach someone. This is unnerving." Sam's smile grows bigger. He is visibly in good spirits, which in itself is a small miracle. I take a deep breath and decide that this is the perfect opportunity to go directly to the point. "Which is exactly the reason why I bumped into Daniel, and he dropped that tray of food on the customer's lap. That was how it all started."

   Sam is watching me without blinking. It is pretty intense. I am already expecting him to pounce on me. My way of presenting the events is a bit manipulative. A trickle of sweat slides down my neck.

   "Do you want something to drink?" he suddenly asks. I am stupefied.

   "No! I mean, y-yes. I... could you...w-water?"

   Oh, Lord! I am stuttering now. Pathetic.

   "How about I mix you a cocktail?" Sam offers.

   "What?" I have a very hard time comprehending his words as he keeps gazing at me in this super strange way, which makes my brain work really, really, really slow.

   "I'll mix you a cocktail," he finally states.

   I answer nothing since it is definitely not a question. It is rude, though, to be silent like a fish. I look like a total fool, only blinking at him, so I force myself to speak. 

   "Well, yeah.... Thanks!... Great..." 

   He goes to the kitchen and starts taking out different bottles from the fridge, lining them on the island counter. They are more than ten, in all kind of shapes and colors.

   "So, what were you saying?" Sam asks while pouring various ingredients in a shaker.

   "Mmm..." What was I saying?

   Brace yourself!

   "I was saying that we all had some involvement in that fight, which left the bar with barely any glasses last night." My throat feels as if someone is squeezing it with all force. "If the boss wants us to cover part of the damages, then it's only fair that we split the costs in three."

   I cast a nervous glimpse at Sam, but he keeps mixing the drink and does not seem fazed by my brave assertion.

   "If you hadn't startled me, I wouldn't have bumped into Daniel. He wouldn't have spilled all that food on the person's lap. The man wouldn't have tried to hit Danny if he wasn't drunk. My friend apologized countless times after all." 

   Oh, my God! I wish I could stop the rant. Why doesn't he even glance at me? 

   I have no other options but to strike the final blow. "You should not give shots to customers who are already juiced, especially if they tend to be aggressive. What happened is partly your fault, too."

   I stop because I can clearly see that Sam is paying no attention to my carefully planned narrative. He pours the content of the shaker into two martini glasses, full of ice cubes to the brim, and brings them to the table. The liquid inside has this amazing purple color, with a light blue tint, which reminds me of a blooming violet. The sugar crystals on the rims reflect the sparkling shades. It is beautiful.

   "What is this?" I quietly ask. 

   "My new cocktail," Sam proudly answers. "I finally refined the recipe. Would you like to be the first one to taste it?"

   "I... Oh... Thank you!" I am too bewildered by everything that is going on to worry about not being able to form a complete sentence. To make it worse, Sam pushes a glass into my hand with a sinful smirk on his lips and bold sparks in his piercing green eyes. I somehow manage to mumble, "How is it called?"

   He slowly leans towards me and whispers hoarsely, "I've got The Hots for you."

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Photo by Zulfiska from istockphoto.com

A/N

Hello, at the end of chapter 2!

Thank you so much for reading and supporting the story ❤❤❤

Do you think Sam is teasing Alec on purpose?

Did you already guess what The Hots is? 😉

Share your thoughts, ask questions, and criticize if you think it's necessary.

Love: Anny