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“But you’re doing so well,” he says, biting my neck.
I gasp and shove my ass into his crotch. “Stop it, or I’ll mess it up and it’s so pretty.”
“I can make another,” he suggests, moving his hands from my hips to the front of my comfy yoga pants.
“No. This is my frittata. I can do this.” I’m determined to perfect everything he’s been teaching me, even if it is rudimentary. I didn’t realize how poorly I was taking care of myself and don’t want to go back to eating granola bars.
“See? Such a good girl.”
“Oh my god, I think I hate you,” I say with a laugh. Austin is making it impossible to think straight.
“You should probably put that in the oven,” Brady suggests.
My eyes find his, and he takes a sip of his coffee, gaze straying to Austin’s hands. Jealousy is a good color on him.
“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.” Austin steps away, and I suck in a breath, grabbing the hot pad and putting my masterpiece in the oven. The timer beeps as he sets it. “Shit, I have to get ready for work. Can you finish this on your own?”
I stop the frown that tries to take over and lean against the counter, arching an eyebrow in Austin’s direction. “I think I can manage turning the oven and timer off, Chef.”
He’s on me in an instant, slamming his lips into mine and stealing my breath. The kiss is so hungry, I whine and he curses. “I really have to go.”
“I’ll be here when you get back.”
“I’m counting on it,” he says, kissing me again and squeezing my ass.
He leaves before I’m ready for him to go, heading to shower and change. My eyes stay on his back until he disappears. Heart clenching at his loss, I release a soft sigh right as Brady clears his throat.
My gaze flies to meet his.
“So . . .” he begins awkwardly. “Big plans today?”
“Just applying for more internships,” I say with a shrug, grabbing the dirty dishes and heading to the sink.
Brady rises from his seat, and my hackles rise with him, ready for a fight. Normally, I’d cower or run. Not today. I focus on cleaning up my mess as he walks around the island. I count my breaths as he steps closer and closer until he’s right next to me. I force my eyes to stay on the dishes.
His knuckles brush over my arm.
I suck in a shaky breath. “What are you doing?”
“Look at me, princess.”
Growling, I shut off the water and slap my palms against the edge of the sink before glaring at him.
His forehead is lined with confusion. “I’m sorry.”
“I heard you the first time,” I mutter, turning away from him.
Brady grabs my waist and spins me around, crushing my body against his. Because I’m touch starved, I melt against his hardness for a moment, loving how good it feels. His lips graze over mine, and I gasp, shoving against his chest. He releases me and I take three quick steps away.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought it was obvious,” he says, pinching his eyebrows together.
“You can’t.” I shake my head. “You don’t get to make demands. You don’t get to take what you want, Brady, that’s what got us into this situation in the first place.”
His mouth presses together, and he sticks his hands into his pants. “Okay.” His face scrunches. “Help me out, Quinn. I don’t know how to make this better.”
A soft scoff slips out of me before I can stop it. “You try, Brady. Try not being an asshole. Try not controlling me. Try to just...be a good mate.”
