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Murphy
Just as Sabrina climbs that perfect ass of hers on to the bed, I hear the door slam shut downstairs, followed by laughter. Brady’s voice carries up the stairs. “Murph! Get down here and tell me what the trainer said.”
Shit.
Sabrina looks up at me with those big brown eyes and bursts into a fit of laughter.
“Princess...This is not funny. You’ve got to know the very last thing I want to do is leave you hanging right now.” I scrub my hands over my face.
“Go,” she says, sitting up and looking at me. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Brina swings her legs off the bed, then stops. “Wait. Can I borrow a pair of pants? I really don’t want to go downstairs in your underwear.”
“What if I like you in my underwear?” What the fuck is wrong with me? And when did I turn into this fucking guy? I open the closet and grab a clean pair of sweats off the laundry basket. Holding them out to her, I pull them back at the last second, lean in, and claim her mouth. “The idea was to get you out of your clothes, not add more layers.”
She goes up on her toes and kisses me again—slower this time. Then the little witch grabs the pants from me without breaking our kiss. I wrap my now free arm around her and anchor her to me, murmuring, “To be continued.”
An infectious smile takes over her face. “Come on, Romeo.”
Sabrina pulls a pair of my Kroydon U sweats up her sexy legs, rolling them over a few times at the waist to make them fit her lean figure. Yeah, not sure when watching a girl put clothes on became something that gets me going, but watching this girl do it sure does. Once she’s situated, I open the door and wait for her to walk out before following behind. My t-shirt is practically down to her knees, and my sweats look big and bulky on her long legs. But at this moment, Sabrina Cabot is the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.
I watch her skip down the steps, stopping to talk to Nat before Nat’s eyes swing to mine. She does not look happy.
* * *
As Nattie and I clear the dinner dishes, Brady and Sabrina move into the living room. Brady mentioned an Intro to Government paper he was struggling with while we were eating, and Sabrina’s eyes literally lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Apparently, she had AP credits that covered that class, so she didn’t have to take it but was excited to help Brady.
I knew she was smart but didn’t realize she was on track to graduate in three years instead of four. Who does that?
When I walk back into the kitchen, carrying the last of our dishes, Nattie is elbow-deep in the sink with her back to me. Crossing to her, I scrape the dirty plates and place them next to her. She was quiet at dinner, and I think I know what’s about to go down, but I’m not sure what to brace for. All I know is the storm is coming.
Nat stops washing and leans her hip against the big white farmhouse sink. Her blue eyes looking cautious.
“Lay it on me, Nat. You’ve been dying to say something since Sabrina came down the stairs. Out with it, Little Sinclair.”
Nattie quickly grabs the damp towel from the counter and snaps my hip with it.
Damn. I guess I shouldn’t have taught her how to do that. It stings.
“Murphy, I love you. You know it. But I will skin you alive if you hurt her.”
“That’s not my plan.” I should probably figure out what the hell my plan is, but I’m sure not telling Nattie is the right move.
“What is your plan? Because that girl in there...” She points her arm towards Brady and Brina. “She’s not a toy. She’s not somebody you’re going to screw and never see again. I have three female friends: Chloe, Annabelle, and Sabrina. I’m not going to stop being friends with any of them because you thought they looked like fun before you got bored with them.” She turns away from me and starts washing the next plate.
“Damn, Natalie. What the fuck?” The hit I took to my face last weekend hurt less than what she just said.
Nattie places the plate in the rack then turns back to me, blows her blonde hair out of her eyes and stares at me for a long minute. I feel like I’m under a cross-examination, which is weird coming from Little Sinclair. She tilts her head, searching my eyes, then leans back against the counter again. A devious smile takes over her pretty face before she starts to laugh.
“Jesus, Nat. Make up your mind. Are you mad at me or not? What the hell is so funny?”
“When was the last time you hooked up with someone? Before Sabrina, I mean.” She picks up a dish towel and hands it to me, then turns back to the dishes.
I take a minute to think about that. “I don’t know. At least a month, Maybe longer.”
A plate gets washed and passed to me to dry. “Have you tried?”
“Tried what?”
