The way he exhales slowly before giving me the next instruction.
You liked that,I observe.
You melt when I touch you.
And for reasons I can’t explain, I find that oddly fascinating.
Nudging the boundaries a little, I feel the heat when Marco bristles.
Feisty, huh? Undeniable chemistry.
Perhaps there's no girlfriend after all.
???
Drifting deeper into the studio, my attention hitches on something unexpected.
Across the room, Marco is talking with the chef.
“His name’s Porter, in case you’re wondering,” Vonnie whispers.
Talented, easygoing, the kind of guy who lets the dessert platter speak for itself.
And it does.
Those blueberry tarts are to die for.
But that isn’t what catches my eye.
Marco is laughing.
Not the polite, controlled smile from earlier as he directed his team.
This is different. So relaxed.
His smile is warm and genuine, softening his face in a way that makes him glow.
Professional mask off, friendly banter unleashed.
Even hotter than before.
I pretend to watch crew members arrange a display, but my eyes are fixed on one man only.
Because this version of him is extremely alluring.
Playful. Teasing.
Marco says something that makes Porter burst out laughing.
He touches the chef's shoulder in a way that seems overly familiar.
I feel a dash of envy, but try to ignore it.
Their contact lingers just long enough to make Porter bite his lip.
The two of them stand so close.
I bet they’re more than just co-workers.
