The taller of the two flailed, hand grappling for the ones hauling him away. His feet dragged against the tile while he fought for purchase. “You gave me the alarm code!”
“For emergencies,” Silas snapped back, shouldering him out into the hallway when his fingers were pried from Marlow’s shirt.
To my surprise, Blake simply stood up from his seat and collected both of their plates to bring them over to the sink. While passing me, he flashed a quick smile, setting the both into the washbasin and flicking on the tap.
When they both disappeared from view, I slowly turned away and asked, “Are... they always like this?”
“What, ridiculous? Yeah, kind of.”
I was desperate to ask for more. Another morsel to tide me over until the next time I got to see Silas in an unconventional position that wasn’t the bedroom.
What other ‘ridiculous’ things had he seen Silas do?
“Blake!”
He held his hands up immediately in surrender, flashing me another smile while saying, “That’s my cue. See you around.” He paused for a second to shut off the water, then added, “Hopefully.”
Yeah, I hope so, too.
Blake jogged out to the hallway, heading back the way he and Marlow had come when they arrived, and leaving me to be the only remaining soul in the kitchen.
I breathed out slowly, pulling my pan off the burner and plating the slightly overcooked omelet onto a plate next to it.
A foreboding sense of dread settled on my shoulders—impending in a way I knew would soon hit once Silas made his way back here to kick me out, too. Waking up to a house full of people, one of which it sounded like wasn’t even supposed to be here considering there was an apparent ‘no sleeping over’ rules set in place, was definitely the last thing he’d been expecting to walk into.
No doubt he was completely disoriented at his two worlds colliding.
I had a healthy appreciation for keeping personal things separate. Friends and lovers—could I even call myself that?—didn’t mix unless things grew serious.
What would be the point in bringing someone around when the only thing budding between them and you was bed chemistry?
Muddying the waters with introducing friends and family was setting the stage for ultimate failure. Moving too quickly past the ‘hook up’ phase and into something else either party wasn’t comfortable or ready for yet, if at all, would end in disaster.
The sound of the front door’s alarm going off sent a wave of nausea shooting through my system, not at all going away once the alarm was reengaged and silence fell over the house once more. Looking down at my freshly cooked food, my appetite remained lost despite the overwhelmingly tasty smell hitting me.
I should eat.
No matter how much I willed myself, my hand refused to grab the fork and cut into the omelet, my mind too focused on how embarrassing it was going to be to get dropped off in a cab in yesterday’s clothes at the front of my house where my sister was no doubt peeking through the blinds waiting for me.
How many dignity points would I lose showing up with a bag full of wet lingerie, wrinkled clothes that had definitely spent the night on the floor and my hair a mess from not being able to run a comb through it properly while it dried?
Actually, I doubted he even owned a plastic bag, let alone one I could shove my shit into to keep my poor sister innocent.
A heavy sigh startled me, bringing my attention back to the archway leading into the kitchen where Silas stalked through it. He was shaking his head while a heavy frown tugged at his lips. No eye contact was made as he passed by me and flopped down in Blake’s chair, folding himself over until his head rested flat against the table.
Both arms were brought up to cocoon his head, one hand gliding through his hair and stopping to tighten right at the base of his skull.
I didn’t dare move—worried that by breaking the spell and reminding him I was still here, he’d get up and drag me out the front door, too.
Maybe I could hitch a ride with the others...
Traitorously, my dick twitched at the thought of being manhandled that aggressively like Marlow had. Being lifted right off of my feet and practically carried, like I weighed nothing more than a bag of potatoes. Convincing him to make pit stop in his living room before he tossed me to the curb or fuck me on his couch—or hell, the living room wall.
Maybe then my ego wouldn’t feel so bruised when I stumbled into the cab waiting past the gate leading into this godforsaken mansion.
My ass stung painfully as I squeezed the inner muscles, testing them.
Ouch. Or maybe not.
