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“Mm, baby. You’re the distracting one wearing those tight little pants that leave nothing to the imagination, and I have a pretty damn good imagination.”

His comment makes me giggle, almost blushing. I love that he can’t keep his hands off me and that we’re still in the early honeymoon phase. I cover the pan and put it on low heat.

“I wear them for you, babe.” I turn to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck so I can pull him in for a kiss. “Plus, I like your hands on me when I do.” I smirk against his lips.

His head drops as he releases an animalistic groan. “And now I need a cold shower.” Brandon presses his groin into my lower stomach, letting me feel his hard cock. Feeling how badly he wants me makes me want to skip dinner and drag him into our bedroom.

“I mean…we could shower together?” I taunt, waggling my brows at him. “Conserve water and all that.”

“Hm…I like the way you think.” He places a quick kiss to my nose. “But then your delicious dinner would go to waste, and we can’t have that.”

I laugh, knowing we won’t last much longer after we eat before we’re jumping each other. “I’m going to change, and uh…take care of this situation here,” he tells me with a frustrated groan. “Smells so damn good.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” I gush.

“Well, I was talking about you.” He winks, then backs out of the kitchen, keeping his gaze on me until he reaches the hallway. My heart flutters, and I swallow hard, wishing I could follow him into the bedroom and take him right now.

After I drain the noodles, I pull plates from the cabinet, then put a loaf of garlic bread in the oven. Minutes later, Hunter enters the kitchen in athletic clothes and grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. Of course he doesn’t return with his beer bottle, which means he’s added it to the collection of trash piled in his room.

“Do you wanna eat with us?” I ask him, not wanting to be completely rude, though he deserves it, considering the way he treats me.

“Nah. I’m going to the gym.” He grabs some water from the fridge, then makes his way to the door. I hear it slam shut and let out a sigh of relief. At least tonight, Brandon and I can eat alone without any of his snarky side comments. Moments later, Brandon returns to the kitchen dressed in a T-shirt and gray joggers. I take longer than needed to gawk at him because damn, I love him in those pants. They ride low on his hips, and his shirt is snug around his waist. The oven timer beeps, making me jump from my daze. I quickly pull the garlic bread out as Brandon scoops food onto our plates.

“How hungry are you?” he asks.

“Ten out of ten,” I tell him while I cut the bread. He laughs, then adds more to my plate before placing them on the table.

Brandon pulls two wine glasses from the cabinet, then fills them with my favorite Merlot before we take our seats.

“So I hate to bring this up again, but the way he’s treating me seems to be getting worse, and I really don’t know why Hunter hates me so much,” I say, twirling my fork around my plate. “I didn’t even do anything to him except ask him to clean up after himself, and then he acts like I’m asking too much,” I explain. Considering how things have been lately, I don’t feel very welcome in my own home. He was edgy around me before I moved in, from the night Brandon and I hooked up, but for months, it’s gotten worse. I think he lives to be an asshole to me.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Brandon says with certainty, then smiles. “It has a lot to do with his job and all the added stress it’s putting on him. Knowing Hunter, he probably finds it funny to get you riled up. He’s a good guy, but his childhood fucked him up a bit. Honestly, I think he likes getting a rise out of you because it’s so easy. You two bicker like brother and sister, and he probably sees you like one.” Brandon shrugs as if that explanation should make me feel better. I don’t want to be picked on like a younger sibling, considering I’m a twenty-three-year-old woman and very much not his sister.

“Getting a rise out of me and acting like a total asshole are two different things,” I tell him, somewhat deflated. “I don’t pick fights with him just because I have a lot going on with school. Coming home to him being a dick is the last thing I need. I’m stressed enough as it is.”

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