I ignored him, leaning my forearms on the counter in front of Fallon. Our conversation from last night played in my mind. Had she really never seen siblings bicker and banter before? Was her family that fucked up that any interaction she had with them was like walking onto a battlefield? From the curious look on her face, I knew the answer.
And the anger I’d managed to keep under wraps last night, flickered under my skin. I straightened up.
‘I’m gonna get dressed.’
‘About fucking time,’ George griped, ducking before I could clip him over the head.
I rounded the counter and without thinking too much, I stepped towards Fallon and tilted her chin up so she was looking at me.
‘You gonna be okay here while I shower real quick?’
Her chest pitched with a rugged breath at our proximity. She managed a mess of nods and a strained smile. ‘Of course.’
She drew her bottom lip into her mouth and I couldn’t stop the grunt from tumbling from my throat.
She shuffled on the stool and whispered, ‘You, uh, might wanna go deal with that.’
Her finger pointed down to my crotch where to my horror, my dick had utterly betrayed me and was standing to attention. We were so close, I was millimetres away from poking her in the arm.
A pained groan sounded from the other side of the counter. ‘Jesus Christ, put that thing away will ya. There are certain things I don’t need to see and your raging hard-on is top of that fucking list.’ George slapped a hand over his eyes and turned back around to the stove, making retching sounds.
Fallon burst out laughing. The sound bouncing off the walls sending vibrations resonating through me.
Ignoring my brother once more, I dipped my head so my lips were only centimetres from her ear. ‘I’ll go sort this out. Just know that it’s your face and your fucking body that I’ll be thinking about as I come.’ She inhaled sharply. And because I was a masochist, I added, ‘It always is.’
37
FALLON
My arm was getting bruises from how often I was pinching myself. No matter how hard my nails dug into my arm, the scene before me didn’t change.
Nope.
I was still sitting at Oliver’s kitchen counter, watching his brother cook so much food that it filled the house with the rich aromas of pancakes, bacon, eggs and hash browns. My stomach growled loud enough that George heard it and chuckled.
‘Won’t be long.’
I smiled sheepishly. ‘Sorry.’
He cocked his head at me with a frown, flipping a pancake as he did so. ‘What you sorry for?’
How could I answer that?Oh, don’t worry, I just apologise for everything. I have a deep-seated fear that I take up too much space and my mere existence is an inconvenience to people.
No. That wasn't a good breakfast conversation. Instead, I waved away his comment. ‘Nothing.’
George considered me for a moment, but decided to let it drop.
‘You got any siblings?’ he asked. At my look of confusion at his sudden shift in topic, he continued, ‘Your comment from earlier made it sound like you didn’t have any.’
‘Oh, no. I actually do. I’ve got a brother and sister.’ My fingers picked at the lid of the coffee cup, little flakes of white plastic falling to the counter.
‘What do they do?’
‘Evan is a civil litigation attorney.’
George whistled, ‘Fancy.’
‘And Charlotte owns a restaurant.’
