“No.”
“Liz.” I look at Jayson when he says my name.
“Jayson.”
“We need to talk about last night.”
“No. We don’t.”
“Yes, we do.”
My eyes narrow at him. “Were you always this damn bossy?”
“You used to love my bossiness.” His mouth quirks up and I notice he also has a split lip.
“There’s an ice pack in the freezer if you want it.” I wave my hand indicating all the places on his face that are busted up and bruised.
Ryder shifts up and drapes an arm across his bent knee. “I agree with Jay. Let’s get some breakfast and then talk.”
Julien takes my empty coffee mug from my hand and gets up off the bed. Knowing I’m outnumbered, I stand up and walk to the bathroom. “Fine. I need a shower first.” I close and lock the bathroom door.
Taking my time, I let the hot spray of the shower rinse away the remaining cobwebs of sleep and prepare me for what I’m sure is a conversation with three men I’m not going to enjoy. What I’m definitely not prepared for, however, is walking into my apartment’s kitchen to see those same three men cooking breakfast and looking all sexy and domestic. Each one barefoot in jeans. Each one looking like sex on a stick with their still mussy sleep hair.
I grew up surrounded by all that? Every day? How the hell did my poor teenage self survive? Ryder opens the refrigerator and bends over to grab something and my heart palpitates at the way his muscles bunch and contract. He has such a great ass. My fingertips start to prickle.Damn it all.
Julien is the first to notice me standing at the entryway. “There’s our girl.”
Ryder holds a carton of eggs and a bottle of olive oil and moves over to the stove. “Pans?” he inquires at me.
“Oh. Right.” I join them in my small kitchen and open the drawer below the oven to take out a frying pan. “Here you go.”
As Ryder starts scrambling eggs, Julien makes toast in the pink electric toaster on my counter with some gluten-free bread he found in the freezer. Jayson is making more coffee.
I notice he keeps flexing his right hand. I grab his wrist and pull him over to the small round table next to the kitchen. “Let me look at that.”
Jayson doesn’t argue and takes a seat on one of the wooden chairs. I lift his hand to examine it. His knuckles are split and red, but not bleeding. I tilt his face up and turn it side to side to look at the bruises on his face. I realize that it’s the first time I’ve initiated touching him. He reaches up to grasp my waist and pulls me closer. I slap his hands away which earns me a knowing smirk, but I don’t step away.
“Did you get in a fight?”
“Something like that.”
“Something like what?” I prod, wanting to know.
“You first, princess. Talk to me about what happened last night and I’ll tell you about my fight.”
I release his face and this time I do retreat away from him.
Ryder and Julien walk over and place four plates of eggs and toast on the table and sit down. Was this how it was like with them? It’s so freaking domiciliary, like family. Like a home. I take a seat in the remaining chair and bite into a piece of toast.
Screw it. Here I go.
“I had a dream aboutHim,” I begin, concentrating on nibbling a corner of toast. “I keep having flashes of the night he hurt me.” My breath hitches. “Of the knife. Of his eyes. Always his fucking eyes. One blue, one brown.” If the world exploded around us right now, I don’t think any of us would notice. The tension is that thick. I continue. “Always his eyes. He keeps asking me the same question.”
Hands wrap around my shoulders from behind and I peer up to see Julien.
“What question?” Jayson asks, his voice gruff and raw.
“He wants me to see. But I don’t know what. That’s all he says.Don’t you see, Elizabeth.”
