Page 69 of The Singles Club

“My Last Chance for love,” I whispered. “The first letters of each word are capitalized and use the number four in place of the word ‘for.’”

Vivian stared at me for a moment and said not a word before she began typing through my phone.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Cooper,” Max said, “but where would you like me to go?”

“Beacon Street, to bring Vivian home.”

“If you don’t mind,” she said. “I’d like to go to your place for a while. I haven’t mastered double fudge brownies yet, but I make a delicious banana pancake.”

I managed a smile. “I’d like that.”

15

Pancakes and Sleepovers

Vivian

My Last Chance For Love.

Those five words lingered in my mind all through the drive and as we walked into his apartment. Justin was young, only twenty-seven. He had plenty of time to find love.

I helped slip off his jacket. “You go shower and change. I’ll fix us pancakes.”

“Thank you.”

After sliding his jacket over the back of the stool chair, I headed into the kitchen and found my way through the cabinets to get what I needed. There was only one banana left in his fruit bowl, but there were a couple of apples. I decided to do a few apple and cinnamon pancakes as well. Just when I had everything chopped and mixed, Justin called my name from the bedroom.

I washed my hands and headed down the hallway. “Did you need something?”

He poked his head out of the master bathroom. “A towel, please.”

Oh gawd. There was a completely soaking wet, fully naked Justin only a hundred feet away.

“Sure, where do you keep them?”

“The linen closet next to the main bathroom.”

I grabbed one and walked towards the master bathroom. I stuck my hand through the slightly opened door, but the towel swiped against it, opening it a little wider. There, in a steaming mirror, was a completely nude, gorgeous Justin. The muscles in that butt of his made my knees weak as a shot of estrogen and dopamine coursed through my body.

I turned away, ignoring the throbbing between my thighs. It may have been longer for Justin, but it had been over four months for me, and right about now I was feeling it.

“Your towel,” I said, although it sounded more like a squeak.

I felt the fabric lift from my fingers. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem.” I smoothed out my skirt, not daring to look his way once.

Pancakes. Focus on pancakes… not wet skin I’d love to run my tongue over.

Pancakes.

Hot buns.

Pancakes.

I poured the mixture on the griddle in medium-sized circles and waited for the batter to bubble.

“Smells good already.” The sound of his voice made me jump, and I dropped the spatula on the floor. We both reached for it at the same time, my hand brushing his… and he smelled soooo good. I don’t know what body wash he used, but a vision of him naked under a waterfall in the jungle is exactly what the scent conjured up in my mind. I yanked my hand away and quickly stood up, bumping my head with his.