Maid For Him / l.h ✔️

12

~Beyla's POV~

On Wednesday night, I tip toed my way down the stairs and towards the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible so as to not wake Mr. Hemmings. It was pretty late, after all, being that it was nearing one AM. I had tried to ignore it, but the grumbling of my stomach demanded another late night snack, hence why I found myself sneaking around the house like a bad ninja.

I entered the kitchen and, to my surprise, found that the light was on and it wasn't empty like I thought it'd be. Instead, Mr. Hemmings was stood in front of the open pantry, looking through it with a frown on his pink lips. The first thing I immediately noticed, other than the fact that the kitchen wasn't empty, was that Mr. Hemmings was shirtless and dressed in a pair of black sweatpants that hung low on his hips. My cheeks warmed intensely as I stared at him, the skin on his broad chest and firm back looking soft. There was no denying that I had quite an attractive man for a boss.

"S-Sir?" I stuttered, a blush deep in my cheeks as I called for his attention. He looked over at me, still holding the pantry door open, and raised a brow curiously. "Ms. Verdine...I wasn't expecting you to even still be awake." He said with surprise, letting go of the door so it could swing shut on its own. "What brings you down here?" He asked, completely turning to face me.

And even though I knew it was inappropriate and unprofessional, my cheeks became even warmer as I ogled his bare torso without meaning to. He looked so broad and firm yet soft, his biceps flexing as he lifted his right hand and pushed a stray curl back, still staring at me while I stared at him. "Uh..." I cleared my throat and tried my best to focus on only his face, my mouth feeling a little dry. "I-I came for something to eat. I have late night snacks a lot." I confessed, my eyes subconsciously trailing down over his collarbone and the span of his chest. It felt like I was about to start drooling at any second now.

Not surprisingly, he wasn't oblivious to my staring. "Judging by the way you keep looking at me, I'd say you've found one." He hummed, cocking a brow up at me.

My face flushed into what I just knew was a bright red, quickly averting my eyes to the floor. "S-Sorry, sir. It was inappropriate of me to do that." I apologized sheepishly, fiddling with my fingers. All the while, I could feel his gaze on me, completely unwavering. I tried my best to prepare myself for the scolding that I was almost positive that he was going to give to me, but it never came.

Instead, he began to walk over to me until he was so close that I could easily smell his usual scent of apricot. Having him so close definitely didn't make it any easier for me to not stare at his naked torso, either. "Look up at me, bambi." He muttered, the sudden use of a nickname causing me to whip my head up to meet his gaze in surprise. I had never expected him to give me a nickname, especially considering he almost never even called me by my first name. It was always Ms. Verdine with him. "Bambi?" I echoed with uncertainty, furrowing my brows. His plump lips twitched up. "Mhm. Wide eyed and innocent, just like bambi." He clarified, only making me blush again.

Brushing the sudden matter of my new nickname aside, I anxiously bit my lip and fought incredibly hard to keep my eyes on his and not on his naked torso. "You're attracted to me." Mr. Hemmings suddenly said, causing me to tense and my eyes to widen to the size of saucers. I couldn't believe he had just declared that to me. "What?! No!" I squealed, embarrassed to admit that, yes, I was. That was perhaps the last thing I would ever say to him. I was attracted to him, but there was no point in making it known, as he was not only my boss but also taken already. Being attracted to him couldn't hurt as long as I wasn't unprofessional and I didn't wreck his relationship. I could be a lot of things, but a home wrecker was not and would never be one of them.

"You are." Mr. Hemmings said casually, shrugging his shoulders. I shook my head again, going to protest and deny his words some more, but he silenced me with a simple raise of his hand. "It's okay, bambi. There's nothing wrong with that. You're a young girl and I'm a handsome man whose house you're living in; I'm not surprised." He shrugged, making me purse my lips. At least I knew the man had confidence in himself and his looks. I didn't speak.

"However, I'll make one thing completely clear with you..." He began, stepping closer to me. So close, in fact, that I had to take a step away. I ended up cornered back against the counter, fidgeting anxiously. "I'm not attracted to you." He said and, for whatever reason, I felt a pang of hurt hit me in the chest. I forced it away, beginning to feel very embarrassed. "I understand, sir." I said quietly, trying to quickly slip by so I could go back up to my room. Before I could, he grasped my wrist and tugged me back into place, hands now on either side of me on the counter so I couldn't leave.

My heart raced in my chest. "I didn't say I was done speaking to you." He muttered, raising a challenging brow. I certainly didn't take that challenge, instead keeping quiet.

"Like I was saying, I'm not attracted to you. I don't want to feel, even one time, like you're trying to flirt with me or get at me. Do you understand, Ms. Verdine?" He asked, pretending like the mortified and incredibly humiliated blush in my cheeks wasn't even there. "Yes. I understand, Mr. Hemmings. I had no intentions of ever trying to do...that. I-I'm sorry for how I was staring at you earlier." I apologized, looking away. This was so embarrassing that I wanted to go to my room and never come back out.

Mr. Hemmings continued to stare down at me even though I refused to look back, unable to bear it. "That's alright. I'm just making sure that you understand the situation." He muttered, my heart continuously racing in my chest. I felt so mortified, now that he knew of my attraction towards him and had blatantly told me he wasn't attracted to me, not that I had expected him to be. After all, he'd made that very clear from the beginning, even if it wasn't to my face. "I understand. Nothing like this will happen again, sir." I vowed, finally forcing myself to meet his gaze. And in a way that was just like the ever so professional Mr. Hemmings, he merely gave me a curt nod before he put a little space between our bodies.

"Um," I mumbled, breaking the brief silence that passed through the air between us. "So what are you down here for?" I asked, completely changing the subject. I no longer wanted to talk about that.

"Same as you, actually. I was feeling hungry." He answered simply, watching the way I slipped away from him even further as I tried to will away the blush in my face. I cleared my throat and awkwardly opened up the pantry, staring into it while I attempted not to dwell on the feeling of his eyes on me. Mr. Hemmings had a staring problem it seemed, not that I could say much on that since I'd been ogling him a few moments ago. "Well...I could always make something for you if you want." I suggested without thought, my big mouth opening itself before I could think it over.

His plump lips twitched up into a smile. "Oh? And what exactly would you make me?" He asked, raising a curious brow. I paused and stared over at him, thinking it over. I hadn't expected to be up making food for anyone else but me, so I didn't know what to say. What was he even in the mood for?

"What did you want me to make you?" I retorted, cocking my head to the side. He leaned over the island counter, using his forearms to brace against the surface. "How about some grilled cheese?" He suggested, his biceps flexing. I found myself glad that he had suggested something simple and not time consuming as I grabbed the loaf of bread from the pantry, letting the door swing shut. "Coming right up!" I chirped, keeping my eyes off of the large man as I grabbed the other items to begin to cook.

There was a palpable sense of tension in the air even as I cooked, maybe from the fact that I could feel Mr. Hemmings staring at me from behind the entire time, yet he never spoke. Then again, I never spoke either. I just kept cooking, my back turned to him as I tried not to focus on the feeling of his burning gaze on me.

And when I finished, I grabbed my own plate of grilled cheese and gave him his, running off as quick as I could when I was sure it was okay to leave.