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“Sexy as fuck, too. You’ve got a good underwear collection. I wasn’t expecting it.”
“What were you expecting? Granny panties?”
“What are granny panties?” He slides lower until his head is on the pillow.
I roll my eyes and have a seriously delayed realization. “You saw me naked. Like, completely naked.”
“Sure did.” He grins, his eyes closed as he snuggles under the covers.
“And…?” Why am I asking this? I don’t care what Easton thinks. Besides, he has sex with lingerie-model-worthy woman on the reg.
He peeks one eye open. “You really want to know?”
“No. I don’t, actually.”
He closes his eyes. “So, are we sleeping for a few more hours or what?”
A yawn escapes me, and my body suddenly feels exhausted again. Is it the trauma from last night?
“I could sleep a little more. But no spooning, and keep that cucumber pointed in the other direction.” I turn onto my side, my back to him.
“The biggest cucumber you’ve ever seen.” He chuckles but flips onto his other side, following my orders.
“Trouble,” he murmurs.
“What?”
“That’s what I thought when I saw you naked.”
“You thought I was trouble?” That doesn’t even make sense, and why am I hot with anger? I don’t care what he thinks.
“No. I thought I was in trouble because you’re better than I imagined.”
Shock hits me first, followed by a burst of excitement. “You’ve imagined me before?”
“Ask me again in three hours.” His words are so slurred I wonder if he’s sleep-talking.
Better than he imagined. That could mean a few things. He thought I’d be hideous, and I was better. He thought I’d be mediocre, and I was better. He thought I’d be sexy enough for someone like him, but I was better.
I doubt it was the last one. And it’s fine. Easton is my friend. He’s the guy who will never have a wedding, only attend them. The guy who’ll never know love, only observe it in others. Who’ll never fall for that one special girl who gives him meaning and a reason to wake up in the morning. He’ll never know true companionship or loyalty. He’ll be the guy who grows old alone, but with no shortage of women warming his bed at night. The single-or-plus-one-to-every-event guy, but never the to-have-and-to-hold-forever guy. Never the through-sickness-and-in-health guy, or until-death-does-us-part guy, and that’s sad. Because he deserves so much more.
Chapter 4
Easton
I flip the eggs in the pan, then butter the toast. Almost everything in her pantry and fridge is organic. For someone who embraces a natural lifestyle, her addiction to murder and crime shows is way off in left field. There is nothing natural about murder.
Once, I asked her why she’s so obsessed.
Shortly after her mom married her stepdad, Tim, he told her, “You live in a bubble world and could benefit from being more aware of your surroundings.” He jokingly followed that with, “Watch a few crime shows on murder. It’ll open your eyes to how easily people can become prey.”
Sadie was nineteen. She took his words to heart and watched Dateline, loving it so much she binged years of episodes. Her addiction grew from there, and she says she’s a better person because of it, more alert and aware.
She’s completely paranoid, but it’s endearing on her. Sadie cares in all ways. She means well. Her heart is always in the right place, and she’s loyal. When Sadie lets you in, she lets you in for life, which is one of the reasons why I’m going to kill Dash.
Her piece-of-shit boyfriend should’ve been here. At the very least, he should have called. I promised Sadie I’d never cross the line between friendship and trying to get her in my bed; despite my teasing, it’s only that. Harmless flirting. But Dash doesn’t deserve her. He’s out all the time with his friends. He puts himself before her and for some incomprehensible reason, she wants to marry him.
She told me Dash is the one she is going to spend her life with.
