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OCTAVIA
Maverick arrived in the middle of the night and crawled into bed with Finn and I, so when I wake up sandwiched between them, it takes me a moment to become coherent and remember where we are.
The soft sunlight filters in through my windows, and I try to shimmy down the length of the bed so as not to disturb either of them. It’s hard not to laugh at myself as I wriggle like a nutcase until I slink onto the floor, grabbing my robe before heading to the bathroom down the hall. No point in going through that effort if I’m just going to wake them up by using the bathroom.
I pad downstairs once I’m done and set up the coffee pot, staring out as the sun climbs into the sky. I should definitely still be asleep, but apparently my body has other ideas.
Once the pot finishes, I pour a mug and head out into the back yard, sitting on one of the patio chairs, enjoying the early morning sun. I close my eyes and bask in the warm rays, the quiet of the morning so peaceful it’s as if the world is standing still.
“Fancy seeing you here so early.”
I squeak as I startle, opening my eyes and finding the Saint brothers watching me, almost identical smiles on their faces. It’s hard to come to terms with the fact that they have different fathers when they look so alike. I guess they have more of Fiona in them than they realized.
“Why are you both here? What’s wrong?” I ask, standing as they approach.
Linc stays beside East, watching him like a hawk as he moves toward me. “Nothing’s wrong. I have rehab shortly, Linc is taking me, but I wanted to see you before we go. And he might not say it, but he wanted to see you too.”
I smile softly as East reaches me and pulls me into his arms. I close my eyes and sigh as I wrap my arms around him, holding as tight as I dare. “How are you feeling?”
“I could be worse,” he murmurs into my hair. “How are you feeling?”
I smile against his chest. “I could be worse, too.”
“Breakfast?” I ask as I pull back.
East’s eyes crinkle at the edges as he looks down at me. “Not if you’re cooking.”
“Meanie,” I tease, laughing a little. “Finley and Maverick are in bed; we all know Finley is the whizz in the kitchen with you out of action. I’ll volunteer him as tribute.”
“Sounds good. I’m going to go grab a cup of coffee,” he says, cupping my cheek and kissing me softly before he leaves me alone with Lincoln.
“Hi,” I say with a small wave, feeling almost awkward. Which is a tad ridiculous, but with his date last night hanging between us, even with our game, I’m not sure where to start this morning. Do I ask him if he kissed her? Do I let myself wallow in the misery and jealousy of not knowing?
What are the rules here?
“Morning,” he says, his voice low and growly. “Did you have a good evening?”
“It was positively stimulating,” I quip. “Did you?”
His eyes narrow, his gaze raking over my very thin robe before he stalks toward me. “I’ve never been more jealous of Finley in my life.”
His low words send goosebumps skittering across my skin as he closes the distance between us, and I can’t tell if the heat on my skin is from him or the sun.
“Pretty sure you were still the guy in charge,” I say, looking up into his storm-cloud eyes. They seem darker this morning, as if burdened even more than usual. “Was everything okay after we left?”
“You mean after you accidentally knocked into that server and Georgia wore the tray of drinks? Was probably a highlight of the evening.” He smirks, before sighing. “Yes, everything was okay after you left.”
I bite down on my lower lip, chewing it to stop the questions spilling from my lips. He uses the pad of his thumb to pull my lip from my teeth and leans down to nip it himself. “What do you want to know, Octavia? I’m not going to have secrets between us where she is involved.”
His gaze is so intense, I think I might burn up from the inside out. How does he always know the right thing to say? I battle with myself about asking, hating that I sound like that girl. Especially when I literally just kissed East in front of him.
“Did you kiss her?”
The corners of his lips tilt upwards, and I clutch at his t-shirt. “I didn’t kiss her, and I have zero intention of letting her touch me in any way that is avoidable.”
While I feel better that he didn’t kiss her, the rest of his sentence doesn’t exactly fill me with joy. Avoidable isn’t always going to mean no.
He leans down and kisses me softly. “All I could think about the entire night was you. You plague my every waking thought, and my dreams, Octavia. If it was my choice, I would see no one but you for the rest of my existence and be happy.”
