My eyebrows puckered. “Both, I guess?” Something was way off.
“You’re sleeping with both of them?” His voice echoed off the tile and ricocheted through my heart.
My head snapped back like he’d struck me. “What the hell gave you that idea?” I hugged the coffee to my chest in case the word whore had been tattooed across my boobs or something.
“You’re barely dressed in my kitchen at seven in the morning.” My kitchen, the eyes…this had to be Grayson. Holy hell, couldn’t Josh have any ugly friends? My skin tingled where his eyes raked over my flesh, but he squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “You could at least put on some clothes. People live here.”
Blood heated my face. Thank God my complexion didn’t show the blush easily. “Yeah. People like me!” My chest tightened.
“What—”
“Why do you jump to the conclusion that I’m sleeping with them? Because I’m a girl in your kitchen on a Sunday morning? Let me tell you something, I don’t care how hot you think you are—” I shook my finger and let go of the cabinet in the process, taking another step away from him. “You don’t get to make assumptions about me!”
“Hey, Grayson—” Jagger called out, and I turned to look as he walked into the kitchen.
I squawked as my foot slipped in a puddle of water and I pitched forward. My knee slammed into the granite, and my balance shifted over the side of the counter…and into Grayson. He caught me without complaint, rolling me into his chest with one arm tucked securely under my knees and the other behind my back. We locked eyes, and something in me shifted from hot and angry to hot and…not so angry. No. Don’t you dare.
He arched one dark, perfect eyebrow.
“What?” I fired out of self-preservation. “I’m not going to say thank you, if that’s what you’re waiting for. Not when you all but called me a whore.”
“I did not use that word!” His mouth dropped open. Yep. I was right. Those lips were full, soft, and way too close to mine.
Jagger laughed. “Well, I’m glad you two are getting acquainted.”
“What are you talking about?” Grayson fired back, his voice vibrating through my body.
“He’d like to know what the hell I’m doing in your house and which one of you I’m sleeping with,” I growled.
Jagger bit into an apple and swallowed, then let out an impossibly impish grin. “Sleeping with? Holy shit. No. Grayson, meet Sam, our new roommate.”
Thank God my feet were ready, because Grayson all but dropped me.
“Sam is a guy,” he said slowly.
“I most certainly am not.” He steadied me, his hands on my hips, and then nearly ran behind the breakfast table like he needed to fend me off with a chair. What. The. Hell.
“Obviously,” he replied, those silver eyes huge like I’d scared him.
“Why are you so surprised?” I blew an errant curl out of my eyes. Oh God. What if he didn’t want me here? Would Jagger let me stay?
“You never said Sam was a girl,” he accused Jagger.
Jagger chewed another bite. “Dude, Sam has always been a girl. You said you were cool with this.”
Grayson flipped out his phone and flicked through screens. “No. Let me read these. ‘Hey man, is it cool if our friend Sam takes the other bedroom? We’re old friends from Colorado, and Josh is cool with it.’”
I took my prized K-cups to the machine. If I was putting up with this bullshit, I was sure as hell going to need coffee. “Yep, I’m Sam, short for Samantha, a.k.a. the friend from Colorado.”
“And you’re a girl.”
I tilted my head and smirked. “Apparently.”
“You’re not sleeping with either of them.”
“Nope.”
“And I just…” He squeezed those amazing eyes shut and took a breath before opening them again. “Samantha, I’m incredibly sorry for what I implied.”
Oh, look, he can apolo—