What the fuck?
What does that—oh.
Okay, no. Just confront him, Jade. Confront him and tell him no. It's not on the table. Why? One, he's Addie's brother. Two, he's too old for me. And three, he's my fucking boss. I'm sure there are more reasons, but my brain is still asleep.
I listen but don't hear anyone else moving. Yup, we're going to go wake his ass up and tell him no. But first, I'm going to brush my teeth.
I won't analyze why I care about my breath.
I comb my fingers through my hair and put it in a quick messy bun.No reason. It's habit.
The stairs don't creak when I walk down them. Yet another difference between my apartment and this house. I step carefully anyway, not wanting to wake anyone. Except Mateo's in the kitchen when I get downstairs. His bare back is to me. Those fucking gray sweatpants hung low on his hips. He stretches his arms over his head, the muscles in his back flexing with the movement. I want to trace them with my fingers. No, I want to draw them. Silently, I snap a photo with my phone.
For the art.
Or to pick on him for being a Calvin Klein ad. Either works for me.
"Coffee?" he asks, looking over his shoulder and meeting my gaze.
"How did you know it was me?" I ask, shaking my head no and walking around the island to face him.
"Process of elimination," he says. He takes a mug out of the cabinet and pours himself a cup of coffee. "Addie or Cooper would've clobbered down the stairs, and there's no way Momand Dad are up this early after not getting home until one. And besides…" He shrugs. "You smell."
"Excuse me?"
He laughs and walks to the fridge, opens it, and pulls out a Red Bull and half and half.
"Not bad," he says. "Distinct. Brown sugar and cayenne, sweet but spicy." He knows what I smell like? I can't do this. Nope, I'll quit. I'll go back to bartending. It's worked this long. It can keep me and Coop going.
He cracks the Red Bull, slides it over to me, and adds cream to his mug. No sugar, which is diabolical, but whatever. I take a sip from the cold can and lean back on the counter.
"What the fuck is this?" I ask, opening my phone to his text and holding it out to him.
"What the fuck is what?" He takes my phone from my outstretched hand. I try to read his reaction, but I'm not sure what I see there. He drags his tattooed hand over his jaw, which is no longer covered in scruff, but a full-grown beard. Is that a smile he's hiding? He places the phone between us on the counter and sips his coffee.
I wait.
And wait.
He puts the mug down and places his palms on the counter, leaning forward. The muscles in his shoulders flex.
"Hello?" I say.
"I like you, Jade. And behind that bad bitch exterior, I think you like me too." His blue eyes search my face, and he licks his lips.
This isn't happening.
"I think we're drawn to each other, and listen, if I'm way off base, we can move on. But if I'm not?" His head tilts in question.
I narrow my eyes at him, but he's not meeting my gaze. No, his eyes are zeroed in on my lips. I stop playing with the ring, and he snaps his attention back to me. Fuck, he looks like an animalwaiting to be released from a cage, and my body is begging for it. I gulp down any pride I had before I walked into this room.
"If you're not, we're two consenting adults," I say.
"Two consenting adults," he repeats. "I'm drawn to you. You're drawn to me." He straightens and rounds the corner of the island, moving closer. Instinctively, I step forward. I stopped backing down a long time ago.
"So friends with benefits?" I ask. "No feelings. Strictly sex?"
"No feelings?" he asks, closing the distance between us.
