The Guy Who Gave Up His Jersey

The Guy Who Gave Up His Jersey (3)

The aroma of homemade chocolate fudge pancakes filled my room. I threw the covers to side of the bed, sitting up. My stomach growled, begging me to feed it. Who the hell was cooking at six in the morning? I wiped away the slight trail of salvia that was running in the corner of my mouth.

The sound of clashing pots and pans came from the kitchen. I blinked a couple of times, trying to wake myself up. I swung the door open to the kitchen, wary. My heart skipped a beat when -much to my surprise- I walked in on Alejandro, at the stove, flipping a pancake, with a bare chest.

“God, put on a shirt!” I snapped at him, covering my eyes.

He turned around , the pan in his hand. He chuckled, flipping a pancake in the air, before perfectly catching it.

“Good morning Grumpy.” He said placing it next to a stack of fresh ones. I could feel the warmth radiating from it.

“Why are up so damn early?” I asked him, jumping on top of the counter.

He turned around, his lips turning up at the corners. “I got hungry. So I made breakfast. ” He shrugged. “If you’re not hungry then don’t eat.” He smiled, kindly.

My lip began twitching. Stupid idiot. He grabed a plate from the dishwasher and placed three pancakes, handing the plate to me. I looked at him, confused. Didn’t he just say if I didn’t want any then not to eat?

“Take it.” He ordered me. “Your stomach sounds like any minute it’ll die of starvation,” He teased me.

I lowered my head, embarrassed. I had skipped dinner last night after the whole “fight” with  him . I didn’t want to see his face until I was completely calm but to my disadvantage I passed out instead.

“Thanks. These are my favorite type of pancakes.” I smiled, pleased.

“Yeah, I know.” He told me, pouring a glass of milk.

I looked up, how could he know I liked chocolate fudge pancakes? My mom was the one who invented them; they were like chocolate chip pancakes except she added a cup of chocolate fudge. They had to be the best pancakes in the world.

“Because you’re the only one who eats pancakes at six in the afternoon,” He laughed, handing me the cup of milk.

“Thanks, but I only do that at the café.” I responded.

He grabbed a pancake rolling it up, before shoving it in his mouth. He ignored my question and kept baking pancakes. How could he have known I eat pancakes in the afternoon? I took a sip out of the cup, wondering how he knew that. Alejandro never came by the café and if he did he would order then leave.

Unless, he was at the café and I didn’t notice him there. I chuckled to myself. Nah, I could spot Alejandro hundred miles from here. Plus he would be to busy banging chicks to come to the café. I shrugged it off. Who cared how he knew I liked chocolate fudge pancakes, he fed me.