She jumped up from the couch and took it. “Race ya!”
We stayed up until four in the morning, watching horror movies and eating junk food. I’d been working so much to save for the wedding and honeymoon that I hadn’t taken any time for me. Kayla was working as a schoolteacher and trying to get her master’s at the same time. So although I loved her, I rarely saw her, especially since I’d taken a job downtown while she was still in Mill Creek. With the traffic snarls and my having to leave really early in the morning, things between us were . . . strained.
“So.” Avery laid her head on my shoulder.
I stiffened.
But I had no damn clue why.
It was Avery.
She was like a sister.
Except I swallowed and looked away, careful to pull the blanket up over her bare legs and short-as-hell shorts.
“Thanks.” She yawned. “I was cold.”
“Wearing shorts like that, I imagine you’re lucky you don’t have hypothermia.”
“Hey!” She slapped a hand over my stomach and left it there. “Not my fault they’re in style.”
“Whatever you say.”
Feelings I didn’t understand started pounding through me, blood roaring in my ears. No, no, no, I could NOT be attracted to Avery.
Seventeen.
She was seventeen.
I was such an ass! Marrying her sister in less than a year, and I was lusting after Avery, of all people?
Avery? Who got her braces off two years ago and had yet to grow into her body?
I really was stressed, overworked.
Avery sighed. “I got dumped.”
“Sorry, Bug.” I wrapped an arm around her tightly. “But he probably didn’t deserve you.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said after I punched him in the face.”
I burst out laughing. “Oh, please, please tell me you gave him a bloody nose.”
She shrugged. “He shouldn’t have messed around with another girl.”
My stomach clenched.
Was I capable of that?
Fear paralyzed me.
Because suddenly I wondered, if I had the chance to make out with Avery right then—if I had the chance to do even more than that, no strings attached—without Kayla finding out, would I?
The thought haunted me the rest of the night, including when I brushed a kiss across Avery’s cheek and then her lips as she slept against my chest.
I knew, in my gut, I already had my answer.
Chapter Ten
AVERY
I smacked my lips together, my very dry lips. Note to self: hydration saves lives. Ugh, why hadn’t I had any water at Thatch’s? Maybe because Austin had kept pouring wine and I’d kept drinking it, chugging it more likely.
I blinked, then rubbed my eyes. Awesome, they were almost glued shut with mascara, making it nearly impossible to see.
This was all Thorn’s fault! I’d left with everyone because I wasn’t about to let my best friend go to some strange man’s apartment. And then Thorn had gone and ordered pizza—with my favorite topping—that cheating whore! Okay, so my logic was a bit screwy. It’s not like he’d forced me to eat all the pizza and drink all the wine, but still!
It’s sad when you start to like a guy based on the fact that he remembers you love pineapple on your pizza even if he picks it off his own piece because he hates pineapple.
I was too spoiled. Too set in my ways!
I would so not survive on the streets.
I groaned again and then finally got one eye open.
The room was pretty dark, which was weird since sunlight woke me up most mornings. My apartment faced east, so I always knew when it was time to get up. It would probably help my attitude in the mornings if I could afford curtains instead of those five-dollar blinds you get at the big-box store and cut to size. I must have failed scissors handling in grade school, because my blinds didn’t fit, not even close.
“Why . . . ?” I whispered hoarsely into the silent room, angry that I had let him get to me again, and even angrier that somehow I could still smell him.
All warm, and spicy, but like a hot whiskey spice—or pancakes. I sniffed, wondering. Why it smelled like pancakes. I didn’t have a roommate. And I didn’t cook.
I pried my other eye open.
My body froze.
Heart stopped beating.
Lungs collapsed.
Not my room.
I shrieked and pulled the covers up to my chin. Not my bed.
And then, the devil himself appeared at the door, sans shirt to cover his ridiculously cut body. Lucas smirked. “Morning. Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
My brain straight up exploded.
Muscles flexed against the doorframe. He held a spatula in one hand and a plate in the other. The aroma of awesomeness drifted to my spot on the bed, and my stomach grumbled.
“Great trick, by the way—you know, that thing with your legs. Though damn, Avery, no need to slap my ass so many times. And I mean, if you want to call me your daddy, that’s all you, but since I know your daddy, maybe cut back on all the dirty talk referencing him while orgasming.”
My eyes must have been as wide as saucers. I couldn’t find my voice, my stupid stomach was now growling, and he was still standing there, like we hadn’t just had drunken sex. Sex I couldn’t remember.
I quickly peeked under the covers.
I was still dressed.
“Lighten up.” He padded over to me and handed me a plate. “You were asleep before I kidnapped you. And since leaving you on the street corner would have been frowned upon, I had no choice but to bring you home.”
I frowned down at the plate. “Where’s my fork?”
His low-slung jeans and chiseled stomach were inches from my face. It wasn’t fair; I cursed fatness on him, his family, his dog, his cow—
“Here you go.” He pulled a fork out of his back pocket. “I thought it wise not to give you weapons until I knew without a doubt you wouldn’t stab me.”
I snatched the fork and smacked him on the hand with it anyway.
“Shit.” He jerked back. “I did a nice thing for you last night. You know that, right? Nice. Also known as doing a solid for another human without expecting anything in return.”
Glaring at him over the giant plate of pancakes, I stabbed a few bites with my fork and stuffed them in my mouth.
“Oh good, the silent treatment.” He winked. “Hurry up and finish your pancakes. My sister’s on her way over, and I’m pretty sure the last thing she needs is to see Avery Black in my spare bed looking—” He licked his lips.
“Ugh . . .” I swallowed. “Say it. I look like shit.”
“No ugh. I was going to say ‘looking like she’s been thoroughly screwed.’” He didn’t smirk, or wink, or do anything that would indicate if he was kidding, being an asshole, or just being plain honest.
“You’ve got syrup on your nose.” He swiped it off with his finger and walked away.
I stared after him like I’d just woken up in some alternate universe—one where somehow I was the Black sister who’d ended up with Lucas Thorn, and he was making me pancakes in bed.