Once he was parked and the black-orange KTM beauty was anchored to the ground with its chain and padlock, Chris gathered all his stuff and went home. It was a ten-minute walk, enough time to text Leah. Søren wasn’t leaving until the next afternoon, and he didn’t want to find them in the thick of things.
He could have stayed at Marc’s since Monday was a free day for him, but his friend had to work. Besides, he’d been enough of a parasite during the weekend, living off his beer and food.
“Tell me you’re dressed!” Chris said as he opened the door of the apartment, using the helmet to cover his view.
Leah snorted. “So dramatic.”
“No, not dramatic. Walking in on you two having sex is not fun,” Chris protested, leaving his helmet on the console by the entrance. “I’m traumatized for life thanks to that one time you were there”—he pointed at the couch—“you know?” Okay, yeah, maybe he was being a drama queen.
“Says the guy who watches porn like it’s the best movie.”
“It’s not the same. Plus, going from zero to one hundred, it’s too much.” With his backpack and jacket still on, he approached the kitchen counter, where she was cutting some tomatoes. “I need some time to adapt to this unapologetically filthy you.”
“Fair,” Leah said with the biggest smile on her lips, tilting her head so he’d kiss her cheek. “So… how was your weekend?” She gave him a knowing look.
Chris narrowed his eyes at her. From the very beginning, he’d had the impression that she knew something he didn’t. Every time she referred to him and Marc, something mischievous shone in her words, but he had no idea what it could be, and he couldn’t ask because that would give away too much. Even if he’d confessed to her that he liked their friend, she didn’t need to know any of the other deeds going on between them.
“It was okay.”
“Just okay?” She raised a brow.
“Yeah.” Chris shrugged. “What do you want me to tell you? We watched movies, played video games, and ate junk food like champs. Nothing new.” It wasn’t a lie, but it obviously wasn’t the whole truth, either.
“You’re so boring.”
“No. You’re boring,” Chris mocked as he pulled a strand of her hair that had fallen from her messy bun and turned to go unpack.
“Babe, I know you said you’d had enough of my cock this weekend, but my friend here thinks otherwise, and I’m leaving tomorrow,” Søren said from her bedroom. “So why don’t I just pull down your pants and bend you over the counter before Chris comes back?”
“You better not—”
She didn’t have time to end her sentence before the Norwegian frontman stepped out into the open space of their apartment, dick at full mast.
“... Come out naked.” She pressed her forehead to the cabinets in front of her.
“Oh, hey,” Søren greeted, completely unfazed as he finished drying his hair with a towel that he then wrapped around his hips.
“Hello to you, too.” The guitarist grinned. “Maybe you’re not so boring after all,” he told his best friend with all the cheekiness in the world.
“You.” Leah pointed at him with the knife. “Shut up. And you”—she turned towards Søren with an identically threatening pose—“how many times do I have to tell you to grow some shame? You can’t keep walking around like this.”
“It didn’t seem to bother you yesterday.” Søren smirked, leaning his ass on the counter beside her.
“Yesterday we were alone. Today you knew Chris was coming back.” Leah huffed with a roll of her eyes.
“It’s just a cock,” Chris said. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Leah laughed, shaking her head. “You two are impossible.”
“But you still love us,” the guitarist chirped as he passed Søren, exchanging an accomplice’s grin with him before he entered his bedroom.
“Sadly!”
Chuckling to himself, Chris left his backpack on the floor and hung his jacket on the coat rack behind the door, which was probably holding half of his wardrobe at this point.
“You’re gonna have dinner with us, right?” Leah asked from the kitchen.
“Yeah.”
