He shrugs. “An hour or two, maybe? And then he fell asleep again.”
I nod. “Okay, well, you still left him alone in the room—” I break off again, letting out a huff of frustration. “What did you leave out?”
“Umm…well, I think I might have given him the impression that I wanted to see him again.”
“How did you do that?”
“Well, he said something like “We should definitely do this again” and I said something like “Yeah, sure.” And then I told him to go to sleep and I’d be back once I went to the bathroom. And then I came in here and went to sleep until just now.” He says this spiel in a rapid clip, as though it’ll sound better if he just gets it out quickly.
I roll my eyes. “Skyler…”
“You know I’m not good with confrontation,” he says defensively, his bottom lip forming a pout.
“Well, you’ve chosen the right career path then,” I say dryly. He’s recently graduated from law school and will officially be starting life as a first-year associate on Monday.
“Work is different,” he says with a wave of his hand. Then he turns those puppy dog eyes on me. “Please, Jax. Can you just get rid of Jersey Coyote for me?”
I arch a brow at him. “Jersey Coyote?”
“I can’t remember his name,” he explains, then frowns. “I’m regretting that nickname, though. He’s totally ruinedCoyote Uglyfor me.”
“I’m sure we can recapture the magic,” I say wryly. “We can do a sing-along re-watch and annoy the shit out of Deacon and Drew.”
Skyler’s eyes light up. “Yes! And we can addCrossroadsas well.”
Fortunately, there’s more banging and clattering coming from the kitchen—louder this time—and it distracts Skyler enough that he doesn’t think to addGlitterto the list as well. I’d like to think I’d do pretty much anything for Skyler, but even I have my limits.
He sends me another pleading look and I sigh, climbing off the bed and digging around in one of my drawers for a pair of sweats.
“Be careful, Jax,” Skyler warns me as I reach for the door. “He’s blindingly hot—how else do you think he ended up here? And he’s wily as well.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got my guard up,” I say with a wry shake of my head. I’d suggest that next time Skyler should try thinking with his brain and not his dick, but we’ve been through scenarios like this enough times to know that’s unlikely to ever happen.
I step out of my room and cross the living room to where our small kitchen is located. The folding partition doors between the half-wall and the breakfast bar that we usually leave open are currently closed, blocking off my view into the kitchen.
In what is probably a bit of an over-the-top move, I sweep the doors aside and peer into the kitchen, getting my first view of Skyler’s “Jersey Coyote,” who jumps at the interruption, almost sending the bowl of eggs he’s whisking flying all over the place.
Eggs? Seriously? Who said he could use those? Has he seen the price of eggs these days?
“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my kitchen?” I demand, as I sweep my gaze over him.
He’s definitely an aesthetically appealing guy, with the kinds of features a modeling agency would look for, and I can see why Skyler finds him so hot. But to me he’s the guy invading my house, making my best friend want to hide in my bedroom, and stealing my eggs.
“Um…I—” He seems a little lost for words as he stares at me, wide-eyed. And I can’t really blame him for that. A six foot two, thickly muscled, tatted up guy with a shaved head, thick beard and a bunch of piercings is probably going to be a scary sight if you weren’t expecting it. Especially considering I haven’t been able to stop glowering at the guy since I saw him stealing my eggs.
“Who are you?” he asks nervously without answering my question.
“I’m Jackson. And I’m seriously losing patience. What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?”
At the sound of my name, the tension eases out of his body and he lets out a breath of visible relief. “Oh, Jackson—you’re Skyler’s roommate, right? Jesus, I seriously though you’d, like, broken in and were going to kill me or something.”
“Wow, you don’t stereotype much, do you?” I grumble. “Are you ever going to tell me who the fuck you are? And what you’re doing in my kitchen using my eggs?”
“Oh, I’m Tim,” he says with a nervous smile. “I just wanted to make Skyler breakfast—I didn’t think it’d be a big deal to grab a few things from a fridge.” He hesitates for a moment, then adds, “Sorry if I overstepped.”
I let out a rough chuckle. “Dude, you didn’t just overstep. You fucking moon jumped.”
His eyes widen. “Um…I’m really sorry. I can buy new eggs.”
