Blinded by Limerence

58 | His Smile

Morgan

Panting and out of breath, Trevor and I dashed into the quaint coffee shop I may not be working at anymore only to be met by my boss, Mr. O'Neill, standing in front of the counter with his arms crossed.

"Mr. O'Neill, I'm so, so sorry," I apologized in an instant. "I—" I cut myself off when I realized I haven't come up with a good excuse yet.

"It's all my fault, sir," Trevor chimed in, placing an assuring hand on my shoulder. "I kept her when I shouldn't have."

With pleading eyes, I turned my gaze to Mr. O'Neill, hoping that he'd accept the BS we had to say.

He let out a sigh and patted Trevor's shoulder as a sign of acknowledgement then turned to leave. "Go put your apron on, Morgan," he said softly but sternly. "I've got some matters to attend to."

Once he left, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I turned to look at Trevor with a grateful smile, and he nodded.

As there was nothing more that needed to be said, I dashed to the back and grabbed the black apron hanging on the wall and put it on. I reached behind me, grabbed both of the thin strings, and hastily tied a knot—only, my nerves hadn't seemed to calm down yet, and my shaky hands kept fumbling with the strings.

Trevor stepped in, brought the strings to his hands, and tied a firm knot. 

If my heartbeat had already been erratic at the fear of being sacked and from the physical exercise, then you can only imagine how I felt when Trevor bent down ever so slightly, his hot breath fanning the back of my neck, and very close to me still, tied my apron for me. 

I felt my face heat up. "T-thanks," I stammered, my eyes glued to the floor because I didn't know where else to look.

"Sure thing, doll." He grinned cheekily at my red face. He took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest, and I whirled around, slowly bringing my gaze up to him, the red gradually fading.

Without warning, Trevor strode toward me, and my brain went into full panic mode at once. His arm reached for me, and instinctively, I shut my eyes tight, redder than ever.

"Relax," he laughed. Full of doubt, I popped open one eye, and when I saw that he was just reaching for an apron hanging behind me, I instantly relaxed, both eyes open now.

He put the apron on, and I laughed aloud.

"Trevor," I said, "you don't work here."

He shrugged casually. "I could." 

Amused still, I tried to take the apron from him, but he was much quicker than me; he swiftly moved away from my grasp, smiling smugly.

"Why, Morgan Darhk," he mused, a playful smile quickly reaching his eyes. "Are you trying to undress me?"

"What? No! I—" Heart beating hard against my chest, cheeks tinted a dark shade of red, I crossed my arms and huffed, "Well, that's not fair."

The boy let out his signature beautiful laugh then, and it took all of me to stifle a coo.

"Alright, alright," he gave in, pulling the apron over his head. The action ruffled his hair and made it a little more unkempt than usual—and it just added to his overall appeal.

Redder still, I looked away and took a deep breath. If I could, I would hound at my nerves to calm the fuck down—but, as I wondered if Trevor had ever considered going for a more natural look with his hair, sans the occasional gel he'd use, my breath got caught in my throat, and I couldn't say anything else—at least for a bit.