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“Right,” I say, cursing with all my soul the heat in my face. “I was thinking the same thing.”
That’s a filthy fucking lie, which breaks our agreement.
“Okay, I wasn’t thinking that at all,” I admit. “But you’re still probably right.”
“It’s for the best,” Sullivan says unhappily.
He shifts his weight, his hands hanging at his sides, his fingertips almost grazing mine.
I look up into his face, the urge to reach up and touch that shock of thick black hair falling down over his eye almost overwhelming.
But I resist.
And so does he.
We both go to bed alone like good little conspirators.
25
THEO
Monday morning, Sully offers to drive me to work again, which is swiftly becoming one of my favorite things about our arrangement. I hate driving and I love being chauffeured around like a princess. It makes my morning immensely less stressful, especially after a peaceful half hour of reading headlines to Sullivan in the sunny kitchen nook while he uses his fancy espresso machine to make the best goddamn latte I’ve ever tasted.
Or at least, it’s peaceful until Reese comes strolling in in his boxer shorts with his hair sticking straight up, as well as about twenty percent of his morning wood.
“Reese, what the hell!” Sully shouts.
“Oops, shit, I forgot,” Reese laughs, pulling open the refrigerator door to hide his lower half. “Not that it’s anything Theo hasn’t seen, huh, Theo?”
Actually, I havenotyet laid eyes on Sullivan’s equipment though I can’t deny that I’ve imagined it approximately nine thousand times.
In fact…I’m not entirely annoyed with Reese for giving me a new data point to enhance my nightly fantasies.
“It’s a little different when it’s on your body,” I note, peeking out from between my fingers.
“It’s not different at all,” Reese promises solemnly. “We measured.”
“Stop talking,” Sullivan says. “And go put on pants. And a shirt.”
“And ashirt?” Reese groans like he’s being sent to a gulag.
“Sorry about that,” Sully says while his brother exits the room, still grumbling.
“No problem at all.” I shoot him a mischievous look. “You’re lucky Reese didn’t come out stark naked—he seems the nudist type. Then I’d know all your secrets…”
Sullivan scowls. “Don’t give him any ideas.”
“Want a muffin for the road?” I made banana chocolate chip this morning.
“Better not,” Sullivan pats his stomach while giving the muffin a wistful look. “If I don’t watch it, I’m going to become the chonky twin.”
“Don’t worry, girls like a little junk in the trunk.”
“Oh yeah?” He grins at me. “In that case, grab two.”
Angus is backin the office, looking tanned and hungover.
“Theo!” he barks. “You’re late!”
