Crumbling Cakes

Part XXIV (24) *POV Bonus*

"Fuck!" I hissed, pulling the pan off the stove. Make pancakes, the insomnia begged. It'll be fine, the insomnia concluded. Sleep blessed me for only an hour last night. And who could really blame brain wanting to stay up to relive the retaliation fantasia? Noone. That's who.

On the other hand, why I assumed I could make pancakes from scratch was beyond me. I watched Ronaldo make them one time. One. Clearly, I'd learned nothing. I scraped the burnt travesty into the trash, sighing dramatically. Well, could be worse. I could have started a fire, I'd go as far as to say this was an improvement.

"Need a hand?" I jumped, the pan clipping the edge of the counter. Sebastian stood braced against the doorway, grinning.

"Er..." I looked away. Staring at the custard free floor; the floor scrubbed by insomnia truly. Ronnie didn't have a shirt on. Pants; no shirt. Brain was having a hard time putting words together...I guess we were even now? "Um, no?"

"That's a shame. I know how much you love pancakes." He nodded knowingly, arms crossed at his chest. Shoulders running wild in all of their glory. I wasn't equipped to handle this. Yesterday a tiled wall covered all of that.

"I might." I shrugged. It was better than my peepers bulging out in their best Looney Tunes impression. Life was most definitely not fair. At least not mine.

"Just say the word." The devil practically sang in amusement. Sebastian walked toward me, pulling the pan I had been death gripping out of my fist once he'd reached my side. How mad would he be if I accidentally rubbed against his naked chest? Surely not terribly mad. He was practically glued to my arm so a little rubbing like a feline won't be frowned upon... "Come on. How about it. A short stack for my Short Stack." His voice lowered, promising sin. A unicorn decided to throw a dance party in my chest. And stomach. Back it up D. This is the forbidden land.

In situations like these, you go with what will get you out of the frying pan, safely above the fire, and far far away from the stove. "Alright, why not." I agreed, lingering for only a second longer, then moving back. "I can burn the kitchen down another day." I joked, waggling my eyebrows.

He shook his head. "Oh, ye of little faith." Sebastian moved to my bowl of batter. Leaving my mangled pan at the sink in exchange for a new one. He examined my concoction. "Hmm, you know, the batter's actually perfect." If I was a dog, my ears would have perked up.

"Really?"

He nodded, glancing at me over his shoulder. The naked shoulder... Get a grip, you weirdo! Nevermind the "my Short Stack". I couldn't even touch that one. "Never jump the ship before its sinking is certain."

I snorted. "Right. My bad for mistaking the smell of burnt dreams for a sinking ship."

He sniggered. "That was a baby ripple in the sea path."

"Baby ripple my ass." I huffed onto my stool. Opting to ogle his back over taking a stand. Frankly, I was tired, lack of sleep does that to a person. And although I told myself I couldn't touch, eyemauling was still an option. Sebastian served me my mini stack and made himself two large pancakes. We ate in comfortable silence, ignoring the sexy elephant that was our war last night.

Sure it ended up keeping me up the entire night. And yes, Ronaldo has now seen me in a bra twice. I could survive the topless part. It was the skin on skin contact that was new and caused my insides to twist. Last time he wrapped me in his jacket and the memory was etched into my torso. This time I'm not sure the torso cells will ever recover.

Not long after he finished eating, Ronnie announced he was heading out to meet a friend.

"Blake?" I grabbed both of our plates to wash.