Running a hand across my face, I tried to focus on not burning the pancakes in front of me. Despite what happened earlier, still I needed to talk to Luke. I wanted more than anything to help with what was happening between him and my mother, and I couldn't do that if I knew nothing.
I mentally cursed at myself when I think about how awkward breakfast is going to be. Of course, it'd be only one sided. I was still bewildered at my feelings I had toward Luke. Never in my life have I ever felt a tension so...sexual, toward anyone.
Distracted by my thoughts, I finished making the breakfast faster than I would have liked; working on something had at least provided the tiniest bit of diversion.
I scanned over my work: three chocolate chip pancakes, with a side of bacon, sausage, and toast. I smiled to myself, actually proud for not burning the pancakes. I was just about to run upstairs to wake up Luke, but I forgot to pour two cups of chocolate milk, his favorite.
I rolled my eyes, but reopened the fridge, bending over to grab the milk that was buried behind Jocelyn's leftovers.
Before I could even move, I felt a pair of large hands land on me, ones wrapping around my waist, one moving down my back and slowly going lower.
I froze, as the familiar velvety voice I heard in the morning filled my ears.
"Jocelyn, baby, you made breakfast for me hm?" Luke rasped, squeezing my ass and trying to spread my legs.
Holy shit.
At the thought of him doing that, I shuddered and jumped away. I could hear my voice protest weakly, but it sounded more like an embarrassing whine.
I couldn't breath correctly; he thought I was my mother. I wasn't sure if it was pure shock or the desire for him to have his hands on me. I couldn't be sure of anything anymore.
I instantly recalled what I was wearing at the moment: a huge t-shirt, two or three sizes too big for me. It went down to mid thigh, and even though I was wearing shorts, the shirt made it look like I could have been wearing nothing.
Why didn't I change this morning?!
I stared up at Luke, and he stared back at me, our faces probably had matching expressions of horror written all over it. I hugged the milk carton close to my chest, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks. Luke's mouth was opening and closing, but nothing was coming out. His arm flung to the back of his head, a habit he practiced when he was nervous.
It felt as if we were suspended in time. Minutes felt like hours. It couldn't have been more than than a minute though, because the pan started burning on the stove; I had forgotten to turn it off after finishing the pancakes
"Shit!" I said, running over to turn off the stove and tossing the pan into the sink.
I looked back to see Luke trying to start back up the stairs but I cried out, "Wait, no, please stay."
He gave me a panicked look, but he sighed, and sat down in the chair at the table, burying his head in his hands.
This is a longer one! I also just wanted to say that this chapter was based on a fanfiction I read before. It was only a couple little things but I didn't feel right admitting this was all mine. Thanks for understanding and I hope you liked it. What do you think is going to happen?