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What comes out of her mouth next, though, nearly floors me with lust.
“You definitely will later.” She whispers against my ear, shivers easing down my spine and leaving a trail of raised hair behind.
“Fuck.” I bite my lip when the desire in her eyes finds my gaze.
“Exactly.” She grins at me, her gaze flicking back to my mother to continue the conversation like ours never happened.
Fucking hell.
I shovel grub into my face like a starved man, cleaning my plate in a matter of minutes just like the rest of my brothers, and reach for whatever happens to be left over.
Ma takes off with my girl when the serving dishes are empty, leaving us guys to clean the whole thing up.
Toby tries to weasel his way out of it by wandering into the living room, Fin on his heels with his phone attached to his hand like he’s got someone important to talk to.
“No socials.” Leo snags the device right from Fin’s grasp and points it in the direction of the kitchen. “We clean up here. I’m not paying anyone to pick up your mess.”
Fin scoffs in protest but follows the direction.
“You, too, Toby. You know the rules.” I call from my seat as I start stacking plates and silverware together.
“Maaaaan, c’mon.” He grumbles as he passes me, snatching random shit and carrying it into the kitchen.
“Did I hear someone complaining after a fresh homecooked meal was provided to them, free of charge?” Ma calls out from somewhere else in the house.
Toby freezes mid-step on his trip back to the kitchen with a single fucking plate. “No, ma’am!” He calls out, grabbing a handful of silverware and two more serving dishes.
“Punk ass bitch.” Mac shoulder checks him as he passes.
“Fuck you.” Toby hisses. “Your mom is terrifying.”
“Damn right, she is.” I agree, following Toby’s tracks into the kitchen to find Fin set up at the sink. His sleeves are pulled up exposing the ink there, a soapy dish rag in his hand.
What the hell is Ma doing with my girl?
I hear faint giggles in the distance, my lips pulling at the corner.
Toby mimics the sound of a fucking whip and when my gaze shoots to him, I see him tying a floral printed fucking apron around his waist.
“You really want to start with me?” My raised brow lands on the secured fabric at his waist
“Don’t judge me. The tee-shirt is fucking Egyptian cotton.” Tob shrugs, takes up the spot next to Fin, and starts washing.
“Yo, get your own chore!” Fin protests, knocking his hip into Tob.
With an eye roll, I set my stack of shit on the counter next to them, careful not to get too close to them jockeying for the same spot.
Just like in the band.
“Leo! Better come get them before they break Ma’s shit!” The words on the tip of my tongue come out of Mac’s mouth as he saunters into the room with the rest of the dirty dishes.
“Jesus Christ.” I hear Leo’s curse before I see his face, reddened with anger, come around the corner on the other side of the kitchen.
The same side the lounge enters from.
So much for setting the example.
“Dickhead.” I say under my breath before he can pass me, catching Leo’s nipple through his crisp white shirt and twisting.
