Uppercut {a pedro pascal au}

eight

bit of a filler chapter :((

things will get a little steamier in the next one

likes and comments are appreciated

×××

Pedro

"Is there a particular reason you're here this early?" Rick asks.

I haven't even noticed he's come in. All I keep thinking about is how bad I fucked up by kissing Maisy last night.

We managed to avoid each other this morning, which probably had a lot to do with my leaving at six in the morning. Not a chance in hell I was going to try for small talk. I worked out for three hours at the gym, sweating and pushing myself to the limit.

"Couldn't sleep," I shrug and turn my focus back to the sandbag.

At home the same day, Maisy tries for small talk.

"How was training?" She asks in a small voice, trying to gauge the mood between us.

She isn't the only one who can't tell where we stand now. I don't want to ruin our developing friendship because I can't control myself.

She's drying her hands on a dish towel, averting her eyes as she stands in my kitchen, all pretty in a tank top and denim shorts that display her thick thighs.

She doesn't grant me eye contact and that alone cracks my heart into two.

She is hurt.

And so am I.

My session went disastrously. And it's all because I couldn't stop thinking of what might have happened if I knocked on her bedroom door last night instead of wallowing in self-pity.

I'm sure I'll think I did the right thing by not barging in on her and crushing my lips down hers in hindsight. I did the responsible thing and went back to my own bedroom, back to my own shower where I took care of myself.

"It was fine," I lie.

Maisy

Pedro and I pass the next week without so much as any meaningful interaction. We avoid one another like the other has a contagious disease. We're back in the territory of polite nods, separate dinners, and conversation only concerning Malakai.

Neither of us broaches the kiss, and it's like he hasn't even had a single thought about it since.

I, on the contrary, replay it religiously in my mind before falling asleep. Even the mere sight of his perfectly plush and pink lips plunges me back wholesale into the memory of our kiss.

I am completely smitten by him and we've only shared a singular kiss. It's actually pathetic.

"Maisy, can you hurry up a bit? I'm running late," he calls upstairs.

"Be there in a second," I shout, rubbing sleep from my eyes.

I overslept. Groggily rising from bed, I slip on a sweater and stagger sleepily down the stairs. I straighten the sweater and pull my hair from the neckline, letting it drape my shoulders.

Pedro is on his way out the door when I get downstairs, aggressively chewing a piece of gum, and his keys, phone, and water bottle are all clutched in one—very pornographic—hand.

"Sorry, I slept through my alarm," I say.

Malakai is sitting on his diapered bum by his dad's feet, gnawing on his knuckle.