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Bemused, he swaggers over, no doubt mentally taking stock of all the ways he could fix this. How do I know? Because I do the same thing at work.
“Why not? I think having a cute nickname for you is only fair. You just called me, quote: ‘hot manny’.”
Blood drains from my face, and I want to bolt the hell out of here. I’m ready, Lord. Taketh my life. My eyes scan the floor, looking for a hole to collapse into.
“I-I didn’t call you that. Jay did, and it stuck in my head.”
Remi’s smirk transforms into an indulgent smile.
“I’m trying to make you breakfast because I royally fucked up yesterday. I cut you off and practically kicked you out so I wouldn’t have to admit my appalling behavior.” I’m well aware I’m rambling. “Which is such a cowardly thing to do. You’ve been nothing but great, and I’m a big bully.” I turn the stove off, admitting defeat in more ways than one. “I’m sorry.”
The manny’s hands casually rest in his pockets as his dark brown eyes sparkle with mischief. He’s relaxed as he steps in close.
I back away.
“So you don’t think I’m hot?”
I twist the back of my neck, staving off the heat of humiliation building there. “Jesus, will you let that go? Didn’t you hear a word I said? I. Am. Sorry. Go ahead and gloat because I’m not one to admit I’m wrong.”
“You weren’t wrong.” He shakes his perfect head. “You were right—I should have asked you. I wanted to surprise you with Isabel because I’m sure you don’t get to see much of each other during the day.”
God, his simple explanation makes my reaction regrettably irrational.
“I overstepped. I’m sorry.”
His apology is too much. He’s too much. Where did he come from?
“I grew up in Los Angeles, but I moved here permanently when I went to college,” Remi punctuates with a cheeky smirk.
Oh, for fuck’s sake, I said that out loud. But I can’t stop the next question that slips out of my mouth. “Why?”
Remi, the adorable bastard, starts cleaning the mess I made in the kitchen. “My mom’s family is here, my older sister too. When she had my nephew, I knew that this is where I wanted to be.”
That’s so sweet. “You really do love kids.”
A wide grin breaks out across his face. I swear his straight white teeth wink at me. Even they are flirty. “I do. I’m a big kid myself.”
“You can say that again.” I slam my hand over my mouth. I’ve never been this loose-lipped, always so poised and in control.
Remi’s beatific grin inches higher. He pulls out plates and utensils. “Don’t know about you, but I’m ready to eat.” Remington scrapes a brown pancake off the griddle, but he loses part of the middle because it’s still raw.
Watching on in helpless horror, my shoulders hunch to my ears and my nose scrunches. “You don’t have to eat that. I’m a terrible cook.”
He chuckles and shakes his head, continuing toward his demise.
“Really. The main thing is I wanted to apologize. Again, I’m sorry. Please don’t eat that.”
“Why not?” He sits down at the table. “Apology pancakes are the best pancakes, made with my enemies’ tears and regret.” He scoops up a chunk of “what the fuck” with his fork.
“Wait!”
Mouth open, his utensil stops mid-air.
“Don’t you want some syrup on it?” So you can’t really taste how awful my cooking is?
Remi rubs his abs. “I plan on taking Isabel to get ice cream later, and too much sugar isn’t good for you.” He throws me a wink before he wraps his pillowy pink lips around a big bite.
I brace myself, waiting for the gag, but it doesn’t come. He just sits there, happily chewing and then … choking.
