Chapter Eleven
LILY
“Drop it,” Apollo says when I start to pick up my empty plate.
“Sorry. Force of habit,” I say and let him take the dish from me.
“You go grab a book or something and sit over there.” He gestures at the couch with his hands full.
I don’t argue. Glancing at the wall clock hanging over the sink, I try to remember the last time I had downtime between jobs.
Today, I would have come home, shoved the takeout in my face without really tasting it, bundled up to shovel the driveway and sidewalk, come back in, showered in less than two minutes before having to rush back out the door to get to the grocery store in time for my shift. And if it wasn’t that list of things to steal my me-time, it would have been a different mile-long laundry list I never have time to finish. Or someone would have stopped by asking for help. And I don’t have the heart to refuse them.
It’s no wonder I’ve never been able to get more than a couple of dates out of a guy.
It’s not like I’ve given any of them a reason to stick around. I never brought them home because, again, I was doing what I thought was best to set a good example for Blue. I’d decided not to bring a man home, and certainly not let him stay overnight. But quickies in back alleys and restaurant bathrooms was all I ever had time for. After a little while, I just decided to give up dating altogether since I knew nothing would come of it anyway.
Getting restless, my body knowing less what to do with the inactivity than my brain, my attention drifts to Apollo as he clinks dishes. Washing them, then placing them in the drying rack. Doesn't take long before my eyes are roaming over his broad shoulders, a pink dish towel thrown over one, the muscles flexing and shifting under his black dress shirt while he works over the sink. My eyes drift down his back that tapers to his waist before landing on his shapely ass snuggly tucked in his black slacks.
He might be from the land of imagination but he slots in exceptionally well in this domestic setting. Cooking and cleaning look good on him.
My imagination could easily run away with just the sight of him. Live the happily ever after in my head I’ll never be able to make work in reality.
I can’t do this. Give my mind the time to wander… I need to do something to keep it from breaking my heart.
Apollo will probably kick me right back out again but I need to do something else and I want to be closer to him. Get what I can, since I can never have what I want.
“There’s one thing you need to know living with me,” I say standing next to him as he continues to scrub the skillet. “I’m not a kick-my-feet-up kind of girl.”
“Yeah?” Apollo lets the skillet slip back under the soapy surface of the water before propping himself on his hip against the counter. His heavily suggestive eyes settle on me and I swear my panties drop. “What kind of girl are you?”
“A get-my-hands-dirty kind of girl,” I say doing my best not to shy away as he takes a step halving the distance between us.
“In that case,” he says slipping the dish towel from his shoulder suggesting a strip tease before handing it to me. “Get to work, dirty girl.”
