I drop my hands and glare at them both. “I hate all three of you.”
Hayden lifts his mug. “I did nothing. I was asleep.”
“You had to have heard the whole thing,” I accuse.
“I observe. Big difference.” He arches a brow with a nod of his head.
“You should thank Mikey.” Dean smirks, the bastard. “If it wasn’t for him, we can only guess where you might have ended up.”
“I would have been just fine. I’m a big girl and know how to find my way home,” I assure all of them as I look around the room.
“You also indicated you liked what you saw when I was naked last night.”
My soul leaves my body. I was so hoping this wasn’t going to come up. “No, I didn’t.”
“Oh, you absolutely did.” He crosses his arms over his chest, looking far too pleased. “Don’t worry. I try not to take drunk compliments seriously.”
“Doesn’t count if I don’t remember it,” I mutter in defense.
“It was definitely a compliment,” he contends, peering at me over the rim of his mug, rubbing salt into the festering wound I am at the current moment.
I glare at him. He just raises a brow like he’s daring me to admit it. I won’t. Ever.
“What the hell were you doing walking around naked anyway?” I shift gears to try and make him feel awkward instead.
“So, you did notice?” He flashes a wicked grin, like he’s won something precious, then shrugs. “I sleep naked. Better get used to it if you’re planning on staying, sweetheart.”
I stand, slinging my camera over my shoulder even though it feels like it weighs the same as a mid-sized sedan. “I need coffee. Before I commit homicide.”
Dean pushes off the counter, blocking my path, my body coming to a halt just inches from his. “Sure you aren’t still drunk?” He’s close enough for me to notice the tiny flecks of amber in his otherwise very green eyes.
“I’m fine.” My nostrils flare as I inhale what I’ve come to recognize as his scent; cedar and mint blended with a dose of arctic ice.
“You’re not wearing any shoes.” His chin tilts toward the floor, his eyes trailing down the length of my body.
Fuuuuccccck. Can this morning get any worse?
The bastard actually chuckles, then does something I don’t expect. “Sit.” He plants a hand on my waist to turn me toward the table. “I’ll get you a coffee.”
Because he’s rendered me into a state of shock, I do as he says and slide into the booth seat at the table. I slip the camera off my shoulder and place it on the bench beside me. A second later, Dean sets a steaming mug in front of me. It’s black. Realization creeps in that he left the coffee for me yesterday too.
I lift my gaze from the mug up to him, feeling my features soften as I’m met with not a cocky smile, but a soft one for once. He’s yielding for whatever reason, and I couldn’t be more grateful. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies, quiet, but just for a moment. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He nods toward the mug. “Wouldn’t want you to fall for the bad guy.”
Annnnnd, he’s back.
I snicker. “The only thing I’m falling into is a better mood.”
I’m trying really hard not to fall for his baiting tactics, but he can’t seem to let things go, leaning into me just enough to make it feel like he’s touching me, but he’s not, his voice low. “Good luck with that.”
I exhale, slapping my hands down on the table to push myself up to my feet again. I need to be anywhere but near him right now. “Move, Ross.”
He steps aside, albeit slowly, obnoxiously so, his eyes staying locked on me the entire time. I brush past him, my whole body going warm where our arms almost touch.
I hate it.
I also want to go back and do it again.
