All We Need Are Books. An MC Romance

Chapter 3: Hot Chocolate at 2 AM

Juliet's POV:

I jump awake, gasping for air. I sit up and take a deep breath, feeling my heart rate calm down. This happens sometimes. I'll have a very vivid dream but once I'm fully awake I can't remember it. I'm used to it by now, it's been happening since I was a kid. I lay back down and think about all the things that have happened in the last twenty-four hours. I was chased by a creepy biker, I met some really nice people even though I thought all bikers were mean, and finally the most surprising thing of all, I met Scar. I can't get him out of my head. He was so sweet and concerned when I had my sleep attack. I expected him to be weirded out like everyone else but he was so considerate. I close my eyes and let my mind drift back to our conversation in his room. I barely know anything about him but no man I've ever met has been able to quote Tolstoy or not seem at all embarrassed about liking romance novels. A light pink blush dusts my cheeks as I think about how close we were while we were talking. His voice was so deep, raspy, and soothing as he quoted one of my favorite books. After my last relationship, I never thought I'd feel safe around a man again but there isn't anything about him that makes me feel uneasy or nervous. Everything about him just made me feel so... safe.

I snap out of my thoughts when I hear shuffling in the hallway. I glance at my phone, 1:34 AM. Who would be up at this time? I roll over and close my eyes, deciding to ignore it until I hear someone groan and curse in pain. I quickly jump out of bed and open the door. The hallway is dark and I have to blink a few times to see the figure standing at the end of the hall. I walk closer and slowly make out the person's features.

"Scar?" I whisper.

"Juliet? Did I wake you?"

"No, I was already awake. Are you alright?" I keep my voice soft, even though he's speaking at a normal volume.

"I'm fine, I just stubbed my toe on this fucking table," he grumbles back.

I giggle. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I don't sleep much," he answers bluntly.

"Me neither. I should try to get some sleep though. Otherwise, You'll have to deal with a very sleepy me tomorrow. Good night Scar." I smile before walking back to my room.

"Juliet, wait."

I turn to look at him. "Yeah?"

"I know it's late but I can't sleep and it doesn't look like you can either, so do you maybe wanna go downstairs and get a coffee?"

I stare at him for a second before nodding slowly. "Sure," I replied.

He smirks and we make our way downstairs. I settle myself on a stool in the kitchen while Scar heads straight to the coffeemaker. I don't want to tell him that I don't drink anything with caffeine because it interferes with the medicine I take for my narcolepsy because he invited me down here and I'm hoping if we talk we can get to know each other better.

"Juliet, what's wrong?" He asks, spinning around suddenly.

"Nothing," I replied.

He slowly walks towards me until he's standing right in front of me. His voice is soft next to my ear. "Sweetheart, you have no poker face. Your eyes tell me all I need to know, so tell me what's wrong."

I lift my eyes, which were previously focused on my lap, and look into his sapphire blue eyes, which seem to glow in the dim light of the kitchen. His voice is demanding but his eyes are sincere and reassuring.

"It's nothing, I promise. I just don't drink anything with caffeine in it because caffeine interferes with my meds."

We're still staring at each other and I watch as his eyes widen with worry. Turns out I can read him pretty well too. "Meds for what," he asks?

"To help prevent sleep attacks. It doesn't make them go away, I just have less of them."

"Why would you be embarrassed to tell me that?"

"I'm not embarrassed. It's just I didn't want you to think that I didn't want to come have coffee with you cause I do, but I would rather have some other hot drink with you."

He cups my cheek in his rough hand, gently stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. "You're adorable. How about hot cocoa, love?"

I grin and nod happily. He smiles back before turning and walking over to the fridge to grab some milk. I watch as he expertly heats up the milk and cracks a real chocolate bar into the pot. Silence falls over the kitchen, and even though it's not awkward I decide to break it.

"Scar, are you British," I ask randomly?

"My dad is, I lived in Londen until I was sixteen."

"Oh cool! I've always wanted to go to Londen," I say excitedly.

"Well, maybe I'll take you someday. How did you know?"

"When you say certain words your accent comes out. I love it actually."

"Thank you, Sweetheart. Here you go," he says, setting a massive mug of hot chocolate in front of me. The big clear mug is full of steaming sweet chocolate, topped with fluffy whipped cream and a dusting of cinnamon.

"Cinnamon," I ask curiously?

"Oh yeah, sorry. My sister loves hot cocoa and she always puts cinnamon on top. I can make you another one if you want."

"No, it's ok. I'll try it."

I take a sip of the hot drink, letting the flavor wash over my taste buds. I smile and hum in contentment. The cinnamon adds a slightly spicy flavor to the chocolate, giving my tongue a pleasant tingly feeling.

"It's delicious, thank you," I say, smiling.

He chuckles. "You've got some whipped cream on your lip.

I blush bright red and drop my head, quickly wiping the cream off my upper lip. He laughs, gently guiding my head up. "I got it." he whispers," wiping his thumb across my upper lip. My blush darkens and I try to turn my head away, but he doesn't let me. He places his hand on my cheek lightly, turning my head so we lock eyes. His eyes remind me of the bluest ocean or the sky on a sunny clear day. There's an emotion swirling in his sapphire orbs that I can't decipher but it makes my belly fill with butterflies. He leans in slowly, tracing my cheek with his thumb. My heart jumps into my throat as he leans closer. I'm surprised by how much I want to kiss him. How much I want to feel his soft full lips on mine, but I can't. I can't get my heart broken, not again. I can feel my breath on my lips as they ghost mine, but just as our lips are about to touch I turn my head so his lips touch my cheek.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I shouldn't have done that."

"No, I'm sorry," I whisper back. "I want to, but I can't." Before he can say anything else or see my cry, I turn and run out of the room. 

Hi Everyone:

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you so much for reading! 

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Love you all:)

Jessie