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Bringing my plate over to the sink, I put it on top of the rest and get to work. Once the dishwasher’s loaded, I look under the sink for pods, but come up empty.
Shit, this house has too many damn cabinets. Where do they keep anything? Holland insisted on ample storage Reed told me, but fuck, how do you keep track of everything.
I open the cabinet next to the pantry, and my eyes land on the clear bin full of dishwasher pods.
Bingo.
I grab one then shut the door, and in doing so, a piece of paper falls from the counter. Shit. Reaching down, I pick it up and flip it over.
What’s this?
It’s a list of names, numbered one to five.
“The hell?”
My brow furrows in confusion when I see my name, written in girly handwriting, next to number five.
Hm. I shove the list into the pocket of my gym shorts while I finish cleaning up our breakfast mess. I’m wiping the counter down when I hear the front door open, and Holland appears in the entryway with Maddison right behind her. Her long hair is tied up on the top of her head, and she’s got a bright pink yoga mat tucked under her arm.
Seconds later, Emery follows behind them, wearing a black sports bra and a pair of leggings, clutching her own mat and a small gym bag.
“Graham.” Holland smiles warmly, setting her gear down in the mudroom.
Maddison tosses me a quick wave, “Hey, have you seen Briggs and Olive?”
“Yep, they’re in the bathtub. She had syrup on every surface of the kitchen, including herself.”
“Not surprising in the least,” Maddison laughs then disappears through the door and down the hallway.
Emery’s eyes roll at the sight of me, which makes me smirk. Reed’s little sister is a spitfire, and damn if she doesn’t hate my guts, but the question is why? When we first met there was this undeniable chemistry, and while I still feel this attraction towards her, it’s clear she isn’t interested anymore, and I want to know why.
I want to know why, and I want her. She’s hot. As fuck. Fun-sized, dark wavy hair that I want to wrap my fist around. Plump, kissable lips paired with blue eyes so stark against her dark hair that it disarms you at first glance. I’ve always had a thing for her… just in secret.
“Adams,” she says, breezing past me toward the fridge. Her black manicured fingers wrap around the handle, swinging it open and grabbing a Fiji water. My eyes never leave hers as she uncaps it and brings it to her full rose-colored lips.
Fuck, I’ve got it bad for this girl, hating me and all. Maybe it’s the lack of sex going to my brain, or maybe… it’s because it’sher.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, her nose scrunched.
I shrug. “Just observing.”
“Observe somewhere else please and thank you.”
“Emery!” Holland scoffs. “Don’t be rude.”
Emery rolls her eyes again, sets the water down on the counter, and smirks. “Aww, am I hurting your feelings, Graham?”
Sassy as fuck. Every time she talks, I want to put her over my knee and spank her until the only thing she can do is moan my name. She hates me, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. I’ve got zero clue as to why. I’m everyone’s favorite, so why not her?
“Nah, but if you wanna make me feel better, I’m available.”
“Please,” she scoffs, “that’s number one on my list of things I’ll never be doing.”
Speaking of lists…
I reach into my pocket and pull out the list of names I found while cleaning and hold it up between two fingers. “Holland, know anything about this list I found earlier? Has my name on it.”
Holland looks confused and shakes her head. “No, I’ve never seen it.” She leans in closer, her eyes squinting. “Emery, is this yours? It looks like your handwriting.”
