Dead Ends // Hugh Jackman

Chapter 18

The following morning I'm surprised to see Hugh still home. I find him in the kitchen, but before I can go in, he raises a hand to stop me.

"Don't you dare take another step."

He maneuvers his body to hide whatever it is that he's making. However, he can't mask the aroma. I take a deep inhale, immediately recognizing the sweet scent but unable to pinpoint exactly what it is.

Knowing that he won't tell me even if I ask, I slightly retreat back into the hallway, quirking my head.

"You do realize you're just making breakfast, right?"

His lips pull into a smile as he blocks the entrance, crossing his arms and leaning on a shoulder against the frame. Curse my lungs for deciding to malfunction right then. My breath gets caught in my throat.

Why does he have to look so good?

It's not like he's wearing or doing anything special.

He hasn't done his hair. It falls down his forehead, framing his face. The tips brush against his eyebrows. I have the sudden urge to push the hair aside, but I refrain. That would be weird.

It doesn't help that those hazel eyes peer down at me with a warmth that makes my heartbeat spike.

"You'll ruin the surprise," he says softly, licking his lips after.

I gulp nervously, flicking my eyes down to his mouth. "Surprise? What's the occasion?"

Hugh bends down, bringing his head all that much closer to mine. "To celebrate yesterday, of course. I cleared out my schedule for the entire day so we could commemorate together."

Biting back a smile, I try to hide my blush with a scoff. He can't keep saying things like that while looking so damn fine. 

"You didn't have to do that. Besides, it's not for few months."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "So? Good news should be celebrated when you first hear it, or else it loses its momentum."

I roll my eyes even though I know he has a good point, but still, I can't let him know he's getting to me.

The only reason I made it this far in the week without slipping up and him finding out about my crush is because we hardly saw each other. But, now, he wants to spend a whole day together?

It's like he wants me to melt into a puddle at his feet. Well, that is if he knew, but he doesn't. He's just being his charming self without a care to what it's doing to me.

Ugh, men. So inconsiderate.

He should be doing the exact opposite of all this. He should mess up his hair, frown all the time, and cover up those taut muscles that are on full display in his dry fit, sleeveless shirt. The dark green color is really bringing out his eyes and driving me equally insane.

The audacity of this man to wear workout clothes and make me breakfast.

How dare he?

When I don't respond quickly enough, Hugh's smile widens. "Food will be ready soon, so you'll have to wait in the dining room to be served."

He's going to be a waiter too? What is it with him today?

My eyes narrow on him. I'm skeptical. I don't think he'll poison me, not on purpose anyway, and he's not the type to have ulterior motives, but the part of me that wants to think he's doing all of this because he likes me will win if I don't try to combat it with something else. My anxiety easily does that for me, making excuses and being negative as a way to shield myself from potentially getting hurt.