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He gave me one of his megawatt smiles as he pushed his wavy brown hair out of his eyes; his warm, blue eyes behind his wire-framed glasses. “We can compare schedules.”
“Dork.” Noah was clearly one of the “funny” guys in the group, as he clearly was trying to lighten the mood in the room once more. “We can compare schedules,” he mimicked in a higher pitched male voice. “Who keeps a schedule?”
“He does,” Jemmy said as she plopped herself down on Noah’s lap. “Literally, look at his calendar on his phone. Everything with a date and time is written in there. Exams, appointments, jobs, assignments, everrrythiiiiing.”
Not for the first time, I noticed the casual touching she gave the guys constantly—with the exception of Mr. Jace and Drake. It just confirmed the comfort she felt with them, and in her own body. Her confidence and beauty reminded me of the Bubble Gum Squad, minus the vindictive cattiness.
I was left wondering if she ever had, or was having, any relationships with them. She was younger than most of them, but Remy was the oldest out of the group, at twenty-four; a six year gap wasn’t too terrible in most people’s opinions. If they didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that I was younger than them, then I didn’t see them being terribly concerned with dating Jemmy.
A sudden wave of tiredness hit me, but I wasn’t ready to leave the comfort of the couch. The feeling in the room had lightened, and the group started joking and talking to each other. Will went to the piano and started playing some Beethoven, and I wondered if Jaxson was musically inclined like his father and brother. Jemmy remained on Noah’s lap, and they were discussing some movie that was just released in theaters with Troy. Jaxson, Remy, and Mr. Jace began talking football. Apparently, Remy and Mr. Jace had played when they were in school and Jaxson currently played.
Drake had taken a seat next to me and took out his notes from one of his classes and began studying. He pulled out his iPod and put an earbud in and gave me an inquiring look as he held the other earbud out. I nodded with a smile and stuck it in my ear, moving closer to him so the cord wasn’t stretched too far.
Soon, I felt myself drifting off to sleep as a crazy mix of Drake’s eclectic taste in music filled my ear. Drake listened to a wide variety of music: classic country, bluegrass, pop, classical, classic rock, R&B, rock, hip-hop, and more. It kind of surprised me, and I had a feeling this was his way of letting me get to know him.
I was vaguely aware of slumping even closer to him, and his strong, long arm wrapping around my shoulders as my head rested against his chest. His scent was subtler than the others that I had smelled, but pleasant nonetheless.
I really needed to stop making a habit out of being carried into my room. I was rudely awakened by Jemmy and Ella the next morning. They were entirely too perky and awake for the early hour. Ella was bouncing on my bed and chirping for me to wake up as Jemmy opened all the curtains in my room, the sun glaring in.
“Rise and shine,” Jemmy said in high pitched sing song voice.
“Ugh,” I groaned as I looked down at my watch. It was seven, later than I normally slept, but the emotional and physical days I had recently must have drained me more than I thought they would. “One more hour.”
“I have coffee,” Troy said from the doorway.
I sat up self-consciously and blinked at him. I know I must look like a hot mess. My hair was standing on end, and I was still wearing the clothes from the night before.
He looked entirely too groomed and well put together as he came into the room wearing a black polo, khaki pants, and black shoes. The black looked great against his olive colored skin, and as he stepped closer with the coffee, I noticed he had a little red logo on his polo. I assumed it was the name of the security company he owned.
I gratefully accepted the coffee and groaned. It was exactly as I liked it: light and sweet. “Mmm, thank you,” I looked up at him in surprise. “How did you guess?”
He gave me a roguish smile, “I took a guess that you liked it sweet, like yourself.”
I snorted at him. “You must not know me well enough yet, I’m far from sweet.”
“Liar, liar pants on fire,” Ella said indignantly. “I told him what you liked,” she stuck a tongue out at him. “Just like you order it at Grub Hub: hazelnut coffee, extra cream, extra sugar,” she recited with a proud look on her face.
I smiled at her. It looked like Jemmy had already gotten her dressed and did her hair for the day. Her hair was in a high sock bun; the tight, pulled back style accentuated her large blue eyes.
“Nark,” Troy grumbled good-naturedly as he sipped on his own coffee. “Drake left us some cinnamon buns. Jace, Remy, and I are getting ready to leave for the day. Remy and I should be home by Monday, so we will probably have dinner Monday night.”
“What about Noah, Drake, and Jax? Are they still here?” I asked politely as I blew on my hot coffee.
I didn’t know if I liked this connection thing, or even if I could wrap my head around it yet, but I know it would be important to get to know all of them.
“They already left,” Troy explained. “Now, hurry along so we can have breakfast. You h
ave a long day ahead of you, Princess.”
I wasn’t sure I liked the nickname he gave me, but I decided not to take it up with him just yet. I wasn’t functioning quite yet, so I decided to hop in the shower and get this day going. It didn’t look like I had a choice.
I came down to breakfast wearing one of my oversized hoodies, jeans, and Converse. I knew I had a busy day ahead of me. My stomach was filled with butterflies as I topped my coffee off and headed into the dining room. It was a cozy scene. You could tell they had been together for a long time; they were so relaxed and…normal. I don’t ever remember normal. Even when my dad was alive, he had attempted normal, but it was just me and him; I would be lying if I said I hadn’t dreamed of a full family. I wanted a loving mother and siblings. I had Ella now, but no dad, and my stepmom had been horrendous.
Jemmy looked up, a cinnamon bun poised in front of her mouth. “Those clothes really won’t work any longer.” She screwed up her face, but it was said in a way that I wasn’t offended.
I snorted. “Whatever. It…worked, for its purpose.”
There was no way I was going to explain to her that I had hidden behind my clothes for so many years. That I had felt safer hiding my curves. That my life wasn’t like hers; I had to survive.
