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She moves across the room, her grey eyes half open, her arms stretching over her head in a yawn. "Are you always up this early?"
Lately, yeah. "Are you?"
"I got used to sleeping in all summer. But my body remembers six a.m. practices come September. Four years do that, I guess." She sticks out her tongue ugh. "At least the college ones are in the afternoon. If I never wake up before the sunrise it will be too soon."
I offer her the mug. Her fingers brush mine as she takes it. It's nothing. A gesture I've repeated a million times.
But it's fucking electric.
She inhales the coffee. Lets out a deep sigh. One that's all pleasure. It spreads over her expression. Her brow softens. Her lips part.
My cock whines.
Not the time. Not the pants. I turn to the stove. Wish I didn't. The world dulls instantly.
I grab a pan. Turn on the burner. "You want eggs?"
"With garlic and red pepper? Uh, yes."
"Bossy."
"You love it." She smiles. A big, full smile that lights up her gorgeous face. "Thank you, Ollie."
"Sure." I watch her sit at the table. Groan over the coffee. Lose her joy as she pulls her cell from her pajama bottoms.
Is this really the only thing that thrills me now? My sister's best friend?
Maybe I can work with that. Maybe I can be her friend, period, the end.
It's possible to hang out with her without touching her.
No matter how much my cock protests.
Chapter Seven
Oliver
"You look thirsty." Holden saunters into the shop like he owns the place. He stretches his arms over his head. Lets out a yawn. "Real thirsty."
"Ignore him," Forest calls from his suite. It's with his usual I cannot be bothered to deal with Holden's bullshit tone.
After Chase, he's the oldest guy at the shop. The most experienced.
He's also Holden's older brother. He knows attention feeds Holden's shit-stirring.
So after an eye roll, he returns to his mock-up. An intense In Memoriam. Roses around a tombstone. Pain turned into beauty. Or maybe it's pain turned into more pain.
"I always do." I'm at the spot behind the counter. Alternating between staring at a mock-up and staring at the bright sky.
It's a slow day. I'm between appointments.
I used to savor this time. What's better than shooting the shit with friends? Even if I'm not usually the one doing most of the talking.
But now?
Waiting is a lot less fun without a buzz. Especially when you don't want to talk to any of your friends.
"You know you love it." Holden moves to the counter with those bouncy steps of his. He places his hands on the slick surface. Glances at my mock-up. Then at me. "An ode to your dick?"
It's not a ridiculous suggestion. The mock-up is badass. And incredibly phallic.
A giant octopus wrapped around a ship, tearing it to pieces, dragging sailors into the ocean.
No pretty mermaids or sweet turtles or sunny yellow fish. Deep blue and black and a red-orange that screams of destruction.
"Half-sleeve," I say.
"Should I repeat the question?" He slides onto the counter. Turns toward me as much as he can manage. "Half-sleeve ode to your dick?"
"For a client."
"I'm not hearing no."
"Why are you so interested in my dick?" I ask.
"If you're gonna wave it around for everyone." He smiles. It's bright. Pure troublemaker. Pure Holden. "I'm only human."
"Uh-huh."
"Is it an—"
"Get real," I say.
"Real?" He makes a show of scratching his head. "What's this real you're talking about? I'm not familiar with the concept."
"You are too."
He slides off the counter. Shrugs maybe, maybe not. Keeps up the shit-stirring smile. "You do look thirsty."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
From his suite, Forest chuckles. "You are obsessed with his dick."
"Look at him," Holden says. "Look at his face. Pure thirst."
Okay…
"What the hell is thirst?" Forest asks.
"Damn, you're old." Holden shakes his head sad.
"Not all of us can fuck eighteen-year-olds." Forest's gaze flits to me. I must look pissed—I don't need the reminder Holden is fucking my sister—because he mouths sorry.
Holden ignores the reference to his inability to keep his dick in his pants. He shakes his head it's sad. "Thirsty means in dire need of action." He nods to his crotch. "And you're wearing it all over your face." He draws a circle in the air. "You need to get laid. Bad."
Forest looks up from his spot. He's a dozen feet away. Too far for detail. But he still nods it does look bad.
"What's it been?" Holden asks. "Three, four days? Must be a record for you."
"Been long enough." My thoughts go to Luna immediately.
He notices the change of expression instantly. "Interesting."
"Nothing is interesting," I say.
He shakes his head. "There's someone."
"There's nobody," I say.
Even Forest nods there's somebody. "Don't date clients."
"You've gone out with clients," Holden says.
"You too." I need the change in subject. Or a way to speed up time. My client is due here in thirty minutes. That's an eternity. Way too long to contemplate my thoughts.
