Sinful cravings for my hockey step brother
I turned around to give him a snarky retort, but the words died in my throat and my mouth fell open at the sight of him.
Alvin was standing there, completely shirtless. His hair was a mess and he had dark circles under his eyes as he had barely slept. He was also in the middle of a massive yawn, his arms stretched high above his head. I caught myself staring at the way his muscles moved, the sharp line of his abs, and the way his low grey sweatpants sat on his hips.
Holy shi—
The spatula slipped from my hand, clattering loudly to the floor.
“Whoa, easy there, Chef. Don't burn the house down on my account,” Alvin teased, a lazy, lopsided smirk playing on his lips.