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I hadn’t even wanted him to watch, though she was right—I might’ve enjoyed claiming her as mine in front of him a little too much. But I’d left her covered, not wanting his grimy sight on her, and waited to strip her down for myself. And even with my stiff muscles, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.
Getting off the bed, I move behind her, wrap an arm around her stomach, and pull her back against my chest. “You don’t have to rush off.”
“I’m not rushing. I need to get the hell out of here. How could you let me fall asleep?”
“‘Let you’? I think I dozed off before you did.” I smooth my palm up her stomach and cross my arm over her chest, my hand getting a good hold on her shoulder. “And just so you know, I slept better than I have in a long time.” Why did I admit that to her?
“I didn’t. But yes, you’re right. I was freaking exhausted.” She pulls out of my embrace and turns to face me. “That’s the only reason I stayed with you last night.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Apparently, my smile pisses her off because her hand quickly reaches forward and grabs my nut sack. Her mouth twists into a sneer. “Yes. And your dick was the only reason I came in this room to begin with.” Her fingers squeeze tighter as she leans forward. “Don’t get attached, Cade, you know everyone leaves you in the end.” Her hand releases me, then she picks up her shoes and starts to walk to the door. She’s not rushing. She’s running.
“Never thought I’d see the day.”
Halting in the doorway, she turns to look back at me. I casually move around the room, grabbing my jeans off the floor and pulling them on as she takes a step towards me. “What day?”
Once I’m in front of her, I lean down and whisper in her ear, “The day I found out what Morgan King is afraid of.” I kiss her cheek then walk out of the room and head to the kitchen.
“I’m not scared, dumbass. I just don’t have time to entertain your little freshman fantasies.” She leans on the island, her hostile glare shooting a hole through me. She’s not afraid, she’s petrified. If I were a gambler, I’d place money on her bully act all being a cover for what’s truly beneath it. The seven-year-old little girl who’s afraid of the dark and asked me to have a special light signal to ward off the invaders.
“Okay.” I drink a swallow of water and down a few aspirin. I remove a skillet from the cabinet and grab the egg carton out of the fridge. “Do you want some breakfast?”
“Are you stupid?” Her arms fold over her chest, her head shaking as she laughs. “You actually think this is something.”
“Yeah. Breakfast.” I take the bag of coffee that I’d bought yesterday and scoop a heaping amount into the filter. Even if she doesn’t drink it or Neil passes, I could probably manage to drink the entire pot on my own. I grab the carafe, move to the sink, and fill it with water. “Do you still take two teaspoons of sugar and a dash of cream?”
Based on her livid expression, you’d think I just asked her to milk a damn cow. She walks around the island, grabs the pot from me, then proceeds to dump it over my head. “Just cream, no sugar.”
Swiping away the water dripping from my brow, I watch her throw a fit. Who would have guessed me remembering how she takes her coffee would piss her off so much. It shows her I still know her, that the years apart don’t mean shit. She’s not just mine in the bed, she’s been mine forever. Why I got stuck with a spitfire, I’ll never know. But there’s a part of me that wonders if anyone will ever make me want to try like she does. That’s what terrifiesme. I grab a towel from the drawer, pat myself dry, then sling it over my shoulder. “If you wanted to shower, you should’ve just told me.” I begin to fill the carafe with water again as I keep my watch on her.
Her wheels are turning. I can see it on her face. But I don’t know which direction she’ll head. I pour the water in the tank, then hit the button. When I grab the loaf of bread, I hold it up and possibly sign my death certificate when I ask, “Do you still sprinkle cinnamon on your toast?”
“You don’t want to do this anymore than I do. You know as well as I do this won’t end well.Wewon’t end well.”
The loaf of bread drops out of my hand to the counter as I step to her, wrap an arm around her lower back and pull her to me. First thing I do is kiss her. A slow, patient kiss that communicates I can do this. We can do this. We just need to be patient with each other. “I’m not going anywhere. Trust me. And please don’t throw the toaster at me.”
Her stunned silence as she slides onto a barstool is enough of an answer, so I go back to making breakfast. When she remains quiet, I look back to make sure she’s still there and hasn’t snuck off. She’s there. Watching me as I scrape some scrambled eggs and her cinnamon toast on a plate. And leave the rest in the pan for Neil.
“Eat up.” I slide her plate to her as she gives me a strange look.
“You’ve made yourself at home here.”
“Neil’s parents are gone more than they’re here. And you obviously know why I don’t want to stay at my brother’s.” I hear voices coming from upstairs. “Apparently, Neil still has company.”
Seconds later, Neil hurries into the kitchen, Savannah on his heels. “Please, just talk to me.”
Immediately, my nerves shift into overdrive. Savannah is crying and so is Neil. “What the fuck happened?”
“Get out!” Neil yells at Savannah then looks between Morgan and me. “I want everyone out of my house now.” He goes to walk out, but Savannah is in front of him.
“Please don’t walk away like this. I’m sorry. I really care about you.”
Neil holds his hands in front of him and looks away from her. “It was all a lie. All of it.” He glares at me. “I want everyone out of here. Now!”
I call after him, but he’s gone before I can even move off the stool. Savannah stands there and sobs, her shoulders drooping in defeat. When I look at Morgan, she looks stunned and innocent, but I know she’s not. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I don’t know,” she says lowly. Her eyes quickly darting from her friend to me.
