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Shit, Zoey’s right.
He is hot.
And not just in a damaged way.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kendrick snaps at me. “I told you we need the TV tonight.”
“Cute, you think I actually listen to you.” I offer him a shit-eating grin, to which he replies by tilting his head to the right and planning my murder. I know my brother, and right now? He’s a mere impulse away from cursing me out. Clenched fists, flaring nostrils—an outburst is imminent.
That’s when he notices Zoey.
His fists unwind. “Zoey, hey.”
“Kendrick. Long time.” She bats her eyelashes at him.
Ugh.
“What are you guys up to?” Funny how he asks about us but only speaks to her.
She twirls a piece of her hair around her index.
“Watching a movie. Wanna join?”
“Sure.” Kendrick’s reply is instant.
Blake’s jaw falls.
“But we were supposed to watch the ga—”
Kendrick stares dagger at him. I call it the “Cockblock me and I’ll kill you” look. Blake clamps his mouth shut, gaze straying to the floor. Meanwhile, Will is mentally calling him a pussy—I can tell just from the mocking grin on his face.
“What are we watching?” Kendrick asks, taking a seat alongside Zoey—no surprise there. Morgan is on Zoey’s left, leaving one last spot between Kendrick and me.
When I realize Blake and Will are the last two standing, I regret telling my mom a four-seater couch would be enough after Dad left with half the furniture. I notice Blake eying the empty space next to me, and my entire body contracts. He wouldn’t. He dares a step forward, his intentions clear as day, but Will beats him to the punch, filling the seat by my side.
My pulse drops.
Thank you, Jesus.
Irritated, Blake goes for the armchair besides the couch.
Will and I lock eyes again.
Only this time, he smirks.
Like he’s telling me, “You’re welcome.”
What in the…
Did he just do that on purpose?
Does he know something?
The small leather couch renders personal space a foreign concept to us. I try to make myself as scarce as I possibly can, squeezing my thighs against the armrest and peeking at Will every once in a while.
He makes himself comfortable, sitting like a typical dude with his legs spread wide. He doesn’t seem to give a flying shit that our bodies are squashed together. The proximity allows me to feel the heat radiating off his skin.
Holy hell, is he a human oven?
