“Ugh,” I say, gagging on it. “How did they make peanut butter taste this bad?”
I close the jar and throw the spoon in the sink.
My eyes go to the drawer where I saw the protein bars. Some of them were chocolate. They’re as close to a candy bar as I’m going to get.
Trystan said Braden would kill me if I ate one, but how’s he going to know? It’s not like he’s going to count them.
Opening the drawer, I grab one and rip off the wrapper and take a bite. It doesn’t taste like candy but it’s better than I thought it’d be. I hop up on the counter, savoring each bite because it’s probably all I’ll be eating for dinner.
When I’m done, I go to hop off the counter, but someone blocks me. A guy with wide shoulders, arms lined with muscle, and a look on his face like he’s about to kill me.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he asks.
“To my room,” I say, my heart thumping. “Got a problem with that?”
He picks up the wrapper and holds it in front of my face. “What the hell is this?”
“Garbage,” I say, meeting his stare. He looks just like Brock. Dark hair. Dark eyes. That square-cut jaw. “I’d throw it out if you’d get the hell out of my way.”
“Trystan told you to stay the fuck away from my stuff.”
I smile. “I’m not the best listener.”
“You better learn to be. You don’t take what’s not yours.”
“Seriously? It’s a protein bar. You have like a million in there. And you can get more.”
“I have thirty.” He drops the wrapper on my lap. “Ihadthirty. And those aren’t bars you buy at the store. They’re specially designed for my body and training schedule. They’re from Australia and it takes weeks to get a new shipment.”
“That’s insane,” I say, trying to get down. He doesn’t move, so my attempt to get down just gets me closer to him.
He leans into my face. “Don’t ever touch my shit again.”
“Or what?” I say in a challenging tone.
“You don’t want to find out.” He slowly backs away.
I jump off the counter. “If I can’t eat your precious protein bars, what am I supposed to eat?”
He opens the fridge door. “Help yourself.”
“There’s nothing in there that’s edible.”
He closes the fridge. “Then I guess you won’t eat.” He turns to leave.
“Wait!” I catch up to him. He’s tall. And big. A lot bigger than his brother. “Is there somewhere to eat around here?”
He looks me up and down, his eyes pausing on my chest. This tank top is tight. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
“My eyes are up here, asshole,” I say.
He half-smiles. “You’re not what I expected.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re not what I expected.” He turns and continues down the hall.
“Nice to meet you too!” I yell at him. “Jerk!”
