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“You know what? I can just go get your planner and rip it to shreds,” Cleo tells her.
“You wouldn’t,” Chanel stops everything she’s doing, that bored expression now an enraged one.
“Would too,” Cleo taunts.
Next thing I know, Cleo is running into a room next to her own, and Chanel is chasing after her. I just smile. “Don’t kill each other!” I shout before I turn around, continuing to make breakfast.
Chapter9
Violetta
Getting off the court, I decide to take a little break before working out in the gym. I walk past the equipment that will be the bane of my existence in a mere hour and head toward the kitchen.
A smell hits my senses. It’s sweet, like cinnamon. A hint of savory is mixed in as well. Recognizing the scent, my mouth begins to water. Someone is making bacon, and my body starts responding to the smell. Once I turn the corner, I see Cleo and Chanel staring.
What are they staring a—
My eyes collide with a shirtless Xavier, who also happens to be cooking.
I see French toast stacked on top of each other, sitting on a plate with bacon to its right.
I was previously salivating over the fine dining in preparation to consume every calorie. But now all I can focus on is his back, the muscles rippling as he stirs a yellow liquid and pours it into the pan. He reaches over for chopped vegetables and mixes them in with the eggs. His veins are popping out of his forearms, and his skin is tan, glowing from sweat.
Xavier hums before turning around in my direction.
Do I wish he wouldn’t have turned around? Absolutely.
I’m lying.
Because I have never seen a man so fit in my life.
It’s getting really hot in here; where is that coming from? I look around and see the sliding glass doors that lead to the beach open. I don’t think that’s the only thing increasing the temperature in the room.
“¿Por qué dejaste las puertas abiertas? Arruina el aire acondicionado,”I tell the twins. Cleo just shrugs, still staring at Xavier making eggs dreamily.
“I didn’t mean to leave them open; I just ran out to catch Chanel,” she mutters, her attention elsewhere.
“You missed quite the fight,” Xavier says with both of his hands on the island holding his weight. He’s otherworldly with that smile on his face.
I avert my gaze, trying to calm my hormones down.
“We’ve created a few rules,” Cleo says, looking at Xavier.
I do too, worried as to what rules he’s established. Xavier isn’t the most mature person; the twins are even worse. Which could result in chaos.
“Yep. They can only fight in front of me; we only speak English, so no one feels left out. I make breakfast, and they wash the dishes.” He lists off his demands, counting them by holding up four fingers.
“What do you mean they can only fight in front of you?” I let out a nervous laugh bubbling up my throat.
“It’s great entertainment. I mean, come on, you can’t say you don’t enjoy it,” he says with a cheeky smirk on his face.
“No, I actually don’t enjoy it,” I respond. Quite frankly, it’s extremely annoying when they bicker for hours. It reaches the point where you want to strangle them. But I leave that part out.
“Well, then another rule is added. No fighting in front of Blondie,” he says.
“Which blondie?” Cleo asks.
She looks between me and our sister. Cleo’s hair is currently a bright blue, a completely different tone from her natural color.
