All of our eyes now focus on a silent Kade, who looks to be deep in thought. His lip is pulled between his teeth, worry lines forming from his narrowed stare. He’s the quietest of us all, the most conservative. If anyone were to have an issue with this plan, it would be him. We won’t go ahead without him, that’s not fair, but fuck, do I hope he agrees.
The tension rises in the room as we wait for his answer. The longer it takes, the thicker the air seems to get, and the more labored my breaths become.
“Okay, as long as we all get individual times with her as well, I believe it could work,” he finally concedes, and a collective sigh of relief washes through the room. “But there’s one thing you guys seem to be forgetting.”
I watch him, hoping to discern what it is he’s talking about. But when there’s no tells on his face, I give in. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s that?”
“None of us know how Bear feels about it.”
Shit, he’s right. We got so worked up about all of us wanting her, none of us considered she may not want us.
“I don’t think that’s going to be much of an issue,” Ryder reckons, a smug grin creeping across his face and a hue of red taking over his ears and neck.
Fuck it’s been a long day. What the hell did I miss now?
Chapter Seventeen
Mikayla
This morning I was woken up to the house in utter chaos. There’s clanging and banging coming from the main floor, followed by a string of mumbled curses and sharp shrieks.
Hiding my dagger against my back, and still donning the oversized T-shirt I use as sleepwear—since my shorts have gone missing—I pad down the hall. Heading for the stairs to see what’s happening.
When I round the corner to the kitchen, the sight before me has an instant cackle bubbling up my throat. Within seconds, I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe and nearly collapse to the floor.
Standing in the middle of the kitchen, in only a pair of gym shorts, is Max covered head to toe in flour and what I can only assume is batter. The stove is on, pans topping theburners, while fresh fruit lies haphazardly across cutting boards on the island behind him. Mumbled “fucks” and “shits” flow from his lips like a river, as he attempts to clean himself up with a damp cloth.
I can no longer breathe as I curl into myself and bend against the floor. Laughter is bursting out of me like a fricken bomb has gone off, and my sharp inhales—only heard between the chortles—slice through the air.
“Ha, ha. So funny, Bear,” he condemns, throwing the towel at my shaking frame.
“You… you…” I try to get out, but my brain is having a hard time forming any kind of sentence. It takes another few minutes, but when I manage to curb the giddiness, and take in a decent breath, I continue my previous train of thought. “You have the same cooking skills as your Dad!”
Walking into the kitchen, I get the full look at just how much of a mess he made, and have to bite at the insides of my cheeks to stave off more laughter. Moving in closer, I tuck my blade into one of the lower shelves. Making sure my body is directly in front of it, hiding it from his view.
“Hey! I’ll have you know, I’m marginally better than him… for most things,” he states, conviction ringing through the air. I fight—and fail—to keep the smirk off my face and give him a nod.
“Mhmm… sure ya are,” I coo as I place a kiss on his cheek. “Now, before you burn your beautiful house down, go clean yourself up and let me help.”
He groans at me, his lips pressing together into a hard white line. “Fine! But only because I can feel the batter sliding down my shorts,” he says, turning and awkwardly heading towards his room. Legs bent, knees wide, he looks like he just got off of a horse. Or has taken up sumo-wrestling.
My head shakes wildly as a familiar heat rushes to my core. The thought of batter dripping down Max’s abs, following the trail of his Adonis belt and slipping beneath the elastic of his shorts. I clench my thighs tight, struggling to push the image out of my head before a pool of arousal collects on the floor beneath my feet.
Stupid pussy, betraying me this early in the morning. Have you no control?
Internally cursing myself for my lack of self-control, I grab the cloth Max had been working with and begin to clean up.Jesus, it’s everywhere.As if someone forgot to put the lid on a blender and threw it on high. There’s batter on the counter, the floor, even the top cabinets have splatter across them.
Just as I bend over to collect the discarded—and probably chipped—bowl off the floor, I hear the others make their way to the kitchen. Having more than likely been awoken from my obnoxious laughter.
“Morning, guess we’re having some form of pancakes today. If I can save them, because sadly Max tried to kill us all in our sleep,” I say as I straighten once again and turn around.
Three very red and flushed faces greet me. As if our eye contact was a trigger, they share a look between them and shuffle behind the island. Ryder, being on the far side, takes off heading towards the half bathroom around the corner. His face sweating and his eyes pinching closed as he moves with lightning speed. As much as they’re trying to hide it, whether out of courtesy or embarrassment, I definitely didn’t miss the three popped tents they were sporting.
I manage to stifle the giggle bubbling up from their antics, before shaking it off and urging them to help me clean and prep for breakfast. Fifteen-year-old me would have shrieked and ran from the room, embarrassed and confused by the feelings overwhelming her. Thankfully, twenty-seven-year-old me is slightly more refined than that.
It is curious though that they would all have the same reaction. Would Max have as well? I suppose I could chalk it up to it being early, and their minds aren’t as collected as they’d like them to be yet. But a small part of me from all those years ago has gripped onto the thought that they liked what they saw, and ran away with it.
Staring at the two of them that stayed, their lips tense and ears bright red, I decide to alleviate the thick and rising tension within the room. Also known as me walking around in nothing but a shirt. Saving them from more uncomfortability, and allowing them to deal with their… uhh…situations.
