His Revenge

Chapter 9 - Scarlett

Scarlett P.O.V

Rococo, my German shepherd, sits on his hind legs beside me while I lock up my apartment. His tongue lolls out of his mouth, and his tail lightly thumps against the floor as he patiently waits.

"Come on, baby." I urge with a tug of his leash when I'm through, leading him down the hall.

Just as we're nearing Maddox's apartment, his door flies open. He steps out a second later in black joggers and a white wife beater holding a silver bowl with a wooden spoon sticking out.

"Where are you going?" He asks, looking down at me from his nose. His muscles flexing as he whips the spoon around the bowl.

For a moment, I'm at a loss for words. Hypnotized by the dark swirls inked into his hard left bicep as they move along with him.

Sweet Jesus. I'd forgotten how built he was. Or rather, I'd blocked it out for the good of our friendship and...my sanity. But with him standing on display for my eyes, I couldn't ignore it.

A hand waving in front of my face drags my attention away. "Hello? Scarlett?"

My eyes snap up to meet Maddox's. "Huh?"

"I asked where are you going?"

"Oh, uh...Where does it look like?" I raise my hand up and down twice, motioning to my light pink joggers and matching top. "To take Rococo for a run."

He steps forward until we're stood toe to toe. My heart rate soars at his sudden closeness and the freshly clean scent wafting from his warm skin.

"Is that a good idea in your condition?" He asks, his voice low as he gently touches the back of my ponytail, fingertips grazing the spot where I'd hit my head.

I softly chuckle and step back, out of his reach, needing the space to clear my head. "M-m-my condition?"

"Yes." He says with a stone-faced seriousness that only makes me laugh harder. "It's barely been a day since you were hurt."

"It was only a bump on the head, Maddox. I didn't have brain surgery, for god sakes. Stop treating me like I'm glass. I'm not going to break."

"Alright, fine. I'll ease up. But you uh..." He sniffs and glances down the hall.

"What?"

"You shouldn't run on an empty stomach." He says it with enough conviction that it takes me slightly aback. Of all the things I'd expected him to say, that hadn't been it.

"Wh-"

Rococo gives two short barks.

"See, Rococo agrees with me." He says, pointing the end of his batter-covered spoon at him. "And you can't argue against that. So come on, I'm making pancakes."

My traitorous stomach gives a low rumble at the promise of pancakes that doesn't go unnoticed by Maddox. He smiles crookedly and without another word, turns and heads into his apartment. His bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor with every step. I stand there, silently staring after him for a few seconds before a soft whine sounds below.

My eyes swing toward Rococo.

E tu?

He cocks his head to the side, big brown eyes looking up at me while softly panting.

"Alright, alright," I grumble, reluctantly following Maddox inside.

And as soon as I close the door, he grabs my hand, leads me over to the couch, and pushes me down with a hand on my shoulder.

"This won't take long." He says while I unclip Rococo's leash. And once he's free, he curls up on the leather couch beside me, his favorite spot whenever he's here.