Built for Sin

22 | Betrayal

"Fine," he huffed and walked out of the office with me waddling behind him.

Giddily walking behind Lorenzo, my face collided with his back when he randomly stopped in the middle of the hallway.

"Ouchie." I rubbed my nose. That hurt. I could have sworn I heard Lorenzo chuckle, as if he did that on purpose.

"No," I gasped, "all the pancakes are gone." Poor Lorenzo, he didn't get to eat any. I only ate one so that there would be enough for him.

"That's fine, we can make some more. But you're going to help me, okay shortcake? Baking helps release anger." For me at least. And I have a lot of it. That's a secret though, nobody knows.

Grabbing the pink apron that Marco wore the other day, I tried to put on Lorenzo.

"Bend over, brutha." I looked at him in a come-on-you-should-already-know-this face.

Rolling his eyes, Lorenzo obliged and bent down to my height so that I could tie the pink apron around his neck. Bitable looking neck.

Add to the to do list.

Maybe one bite wouldn't hurt.

Whilst he was still bent over to my level, I accidentally nipped at his neck.

Cross that off.

Lorenzo's brows furrowed and he looked at me with- oh my God he's so cute, he has a little blush taking over his face cheeks.

"Sorry, that was an accident." Moving on as if nothing happened, I began to grab the ingredients so that I could make my shortcake some pancakes.

"Can you mix the batter? My arms are too weak and you have strong arms." I squished his bicep to prove my point.

"Squish, squish," I mumbled to myself and squeezed his bicep a couple of more times, earning myself a smirk from Lorenzo.

Hehe.

He raised the sleeves of his navy blue shirt to his elbows, revealing a tan and thick forearm, and began to stir the thick batter that wasn't too lumpy.

"I want to make heart shaped pancakes."

"I don't know how," Lorenzo softly said. He's sad because he hasn't eaten all day. I'm going to fix that.

"I'll do it, just eat a couple of those strawberries while I make them." I pointed to the bowl of strawberries that I washed and watched him pop a few in his mouth.

Atta boy.

As I was scooping the batter into the pan, I felt Lorenzo's stare burning into me.

"I'm proud of you," I say to him.

He looks like a confused puppy at what I just said. "For what?"

"For being you."

He's so awkward.

I break the silence, "Can Flavio drop me off at Leo's work place later today?" I plattered four heart-shaped pancakes that looked more like big butts than hearts on Lorenzo's plate.