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“What was that?” he panted, blinking.
At least he wasn’t yelling at me for taking advantage of him in his moment of weakness. I could see it going both ways, honestly.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I swear to Christ, if you keep standing like that, I won’t be responsible for my actions,” I said.
That was true, too. He was standing all sexy and yummy, and his muscles flexed when he shifted from foot to foot. His arms looked all sexy crossed over his chest. His hands fisted were making his veins pop out.
I wasn’t a nurse, but I could definitely appreciate the ropey visual confections.
He tilted his head. “Standing like what?”
I pulled away, then gestured to him.
He was in a lean against the table behind him. He’d had both arms crossed over his chest, and he looked mad as hell with that glower I loved so much.
“That,” I said as I waved my hand. “You’re just all… there.”
His lips quirked up but before he could say anything I said, “I know that you’re having a great conversation with your dad and brothers, but you promised me we’d go on that errand today.”
His eyes twinkled as he said, “I forgot.”
“I know you did,” I played along. “But it won’t run itself, and it’s two hours away. Plus, I am a bit hungry.”
His mouth quirked up. “There’s food behind you. Lots of it.”
There was. But I hadn’t gotten any.
I didn’t bother looking behind me.
“Nothing against anyone here,” I said as I finally looked at the men who were staring at me with amusement in their eyes, “but I don’t eat food made at someone’s house unless I know them well. Which you know.”
I’d formed a phobia of it, I guess you could say. One that would probably never cure itself.
He snorted. “I guess I do.”
I looked at the closest brother, Tyson.
“I got lost down this social media rabbit hole,” I told him. “A lady posted a video with her cats, and it spawned this older gentleman to comment and say ‘you can’t eat at everyone’s house.’ The thing is, in the video, the woman was literally icing cake, and the cat was on the counter with his ass in the cupcakes behind him, while he was licking icing off the cake she was frosting.”
Tyson’s lip curled up a bit. “I guess you have a point.”
I nodded. “Then there were the comments.”
“I’m scared to ask,” Hoyt drawled.
“Me, too,” the dad with the girl name I couldn’t remember said.
“They were bad,” I admitted. “One commenter posted about his mom not washing their dishes between uses. Just letting the dog lick them clean. Then another was talking about how her sister has sex, and they make jizz brownies…”
“Stop,” Nash said as he placed his hand over my mouth. “Please.”
I grinned, then licked his hand.
He pulled back just far enough to reach for my forehead and wipe my own spit on my face.
“Hey!” I slapped his hand away.
“We can go. I have to go say goodbye to my mom,” he grumbled.
I watched him go, then took his place.
The three men stared at me like I was some nice, shiny new toy.
“It was nice to meet y’all,” I lied.
I didn’t like meeting them. Meeting new people caused me to have to think too hard.
Am I being weird by saying what first comes into my head?
Am I bringing attention to my synesthesia?
Will I have to explain what I see? If I do, will they make fun of me?
So many unanswerable questions, and sometimes, it was nice to just be… normal.
But I wasn’t, and never had been.
“Are you going to be meeting him Tuesday in the morning?” Hoyt asked curiously.
I didn’t know what Tuesday was, but I nodded my head anyway. “Of course. Where else would I be?”
Hoyt sighed. “Is he nervous?”
I thought about his question, then wondered if by me saying ‘no’ it might make him realize that I didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about.
“A little,” I admitted. “But he’s trying to hide it.”
I was totally making every single word up. I was honestly pretty proud of myself for working so well on the fly.
Hoyt nodded his head. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“He’ll be okay, though. I’ll be there.” I hoped that was the right answer.
“I’m glad,” he said. “He shouldn’t be alone. Not during this.”
Well, that only made me more curious.
I couldn’t ask anymore, though, because I saw Nash marching his ass toward us like his feet were on fire.
He was definitely ready for escape.
That, or he didn’t want me to talk to Hoyt.
Either was possible at this point.
“You ready?” Nash asked, looking between Hoyt and me.
I nodded. “Sure am.”
“Good,” he narrowed his eyes at his brother.
“See you Tuesday.” Hoyt offered him his hand.
They shook, then Nash was hustling me out to the parking lot.
We were in the truck before I asked, “What’s so important about Tuesday?”
