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He stares at me as if he's already bored with this conversation.
“Dasher. Off the couch. Now,” I say in a deeper voice to mimic Levi's.
He doesn't move.
“C'mon, let’s go...” I pull on his collar to show him what I want, but he still doesn't budge.
“Dasher, I'm serious. I was lying there. You can sit on the rug.” I reach for his collar again, but he licks my hand instead.
I sigh with exhaustion because I just wanted one more hour of sleep now that it's finally comfortable in here.
“Go.” I wave my hand. “Outside? Want a treat? How about a nice long walk?” I ramble off as many trigger words as I can think of, but he’s cemented in place.
“I think you're more stubborn than me,” I mutter, crossing my arms.
“Doubtful,” Levi says, chuckling.
“Jesus Christ.” I jump, clenching a hand to my chest.
“Good morning,” he singsongs.
“Trust me, it's not.”
The corner of his lips tilts up, and it's then I realize he's shirtless and only wearing black boxer briefs. Is that what he had on last night?
How the hell is he not freezing his nuts off right now?
“A little help here?” I point at Dasher. “He won't listen.”
Levi snaps his fingers. “Dasher, down.”
He immediately obeys and wags his tail as he follows Levi to the kitchen.
“Seriously?” I throw out my arms, then ask, “Hey, any chance we'll get some heat today?”
“I'll check the pilot light after breakfast, but with the way the wind is blowing, I wouldn't get your hopes up.”
“Of course,” I murmur, sitting on the sofa and turning toward Levi.
I watch as he strolls around the kitchen, fills up a kettle, and sets it on the stovetop. Then he refills Dasher's water and opens a can of dog food.
“Come sit up here. I'll make you a cup of apple cider. It'll warm you up.”
Reluctantly, I do as he says and end up staring at his body while he prepares it. Hard muscles line his back all the way below his shorts and down his legs. I can tell he's an active, outdoorsy type of guy just by his build.
I blink as he spins around and places a steaming hot mug on the breakfast bar. With a wide smile, Levi pops in a cinnamon stick.
“It tastes like Christmas in a cup!” He holds up a finger as I reach for it. “Blow on it first.”
Levi happily studies me with anticipation for my approval.
“Are you always this bubbly in the morning?” I ask before taking a sip.
“Yeah, pretty much. What's not to love this time of year?” He shrugs, and I want to respond withevery-fucking-thing, but I don’t. “Families shopping together, picking out and decorating their Christmas tree, baking cookies and making gingerbread houses, sleigh rides, the festive music. I enjoy the whole vibe of togetherness and giving. It's thebesttime of year.”
Oh God, he can't be serious.
This is my own personal hell.
