Страница 28 из 80
EIGHT
Have you ever woken up and stumbled downstairs all disorientated, to be confronted with the hottest guys you’ve ever seen?
I have.
I thought I was dreaming for a moment, but when I closed my eyes and reopened them, they were still there. “They” being Cassius, Weston, and Zayde. Caiden hadn’t appeared as I stood, bleary-eyed, my hair a tangled mess, wearing the T-shirt Cass had thrown at me, chopping mushrooms and tomatoes ready to go in the omelettes. Weston stood next to me at the huge black marble kitchen island, grating cheese.
Did I mention they were all shirtless?
I wasn’t the type to mindlessly drool over men’s torsos, but anyone with eyes would appreciate this view. Weston’s lean, toned body close to mine, and Cassius’ golden skin and his tattooed arms leaning on the island across from me, and Zayde… I let my eyes trail across his pecs, his abs, his arms…every single inch of ripped, exposed skin was covered in tattoos, and it was hot. So hot.
“Babe, when you’ve finished eye fucking us, I think the mushrooms are ready.” Cassius’ amused voice snapped me out of my reverie, and I shook my head, focusing on breakfast.
“Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t eye fucking any of you, by the way. I was just…thinking about stuff.”
“Course you were.”
“Hang on, do you have matching tattoos?” I noticed an IV tattoo on Cassius’ left pec, just over his heart, and the same one on West’s ribs.
“Sure do, babe. We’re the Four. Hence the tattoo.” Cassius shrugged.
Right. “Where’s Zayde’s?” I mumbled under my breath, stealing a look at his inked body again. He gave me a cold, blank stare, and I turned to the range cooker, my face flushed.
As I tipped the eggs into the frying pan, the boys were forgotten and my mind turned to my mother, against my will. I needed to get closer to her, to find out as much as I could. She—
Every thought I’d had flew out of my head as I turned around to grab the mushrooms, right at the same moment Caiden sauntered into the kitchen.
Oh.
My.
Fucking.
Days.
Maybe my stupid hormones were taking over, because my heart rate shot up and my mouth went dry as I drank him in. Faded, ripped jeans, the top of an IV tattoo just showing above the waistband, tantalising me, acres of ta
Hang on a minute.
I did a double take, noting the marks on his jeans, and the way his hands were stained a bright pink. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing.
Anger filled Caiden’s face as he noticed me standing by the oven.
“What the fuck? Why is she here, and why is she wearing my fucking clothes?” He practically snarled his question at the other three, and I noticed Weston slinking around the island to put as much distance as possible between us.
“What’s the matter, mate? She was tired, and she crashed here, and needed something to wear to bed. I just grabbed what I could. So she ended up in your T-shirt. No big deal.” Cassius shrugged, clearly struggling not to laugh. Right. He’d done this on purpose.
“I’ll take it off, shall I?” I raised a brow, placing my hands on the hem of the very plain, generic black cotton tee—no idea how Caiden knew it was his.
“Leave it on,” Caiden barked out. “No one needs to be put off their breakfast before they’ve even eaten.”
Wow. Could he make it any clearer that he despised me?
Before I knew what I was doing, I’d thrown the mushrooms into the pan and was stepping right up to him, so close that I could feel the heat from his body as he glared down at me. “You might want to wash your hands. They’re looking a little pink, King Caiden.”
He stepped even closer, his body pressing into mine, and I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “King Caiden, huh? If I’m the king, then get on your knees and worship me.”
A shudder ran through me at his low, harsh rasp. I met his dark gaze, seeing the barely restrained fury clear in his eyes, and I steeled myself, welcoming the anger that surged within me, smothering the lust. “Fuck you,” I spat through clenched teeth. “If you’re insinuating that I can suck your dick, I’d rather choke to death on my own vomit than have that anywhere near my mouth.”
“Get out of my sight,” he hissed, to the sound of muffled laughter behind us, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to remain under control.
“Sorry, can’t. I’m in the middle of making breakfast.” I shrugged. He growled and pushed past me, stalking over to the sink and turning the tap on. Thrusting his hands under the jet of water, he scrubbed at them, scowling.
“Did you get all the paint off your car?” There was amusement but also concern in Cassius’ voice.
“Yes.” Caiden glanced in my direction, a sneer on his lips. “Nice try, Winter, but your spray paint was washable.”
“I’ll remember to buy the stuff that doesn’t wash off next time, then,” I snapped, turning back to the cooker, my eyes stinging with frustrated tears. I was so fucking fed up with the constant hostility coming from him, and after the events of last night, I was rapidly reaching the end of my tether.
He’d learn not to mess with me.
I silently made the omelette and slid the large pan onto the centre of the island. “There. I’ll make another if that’s not enough, but you get a quarter each.”
“Don’t you want any?”
I gave Weston a forced smile. “No, I’m not hungry. I’m just going to go and change into my clothes, then get going.” Watching Caiden out of the corner of my eye, I waited for a moment, then took my chance. I rounded the island, “accidentally” bumping his arm as he raised it, full glass of orange juice in hand, ready to drink, and rushed out of the room to the sound of his angry roar.
“What the fuck!” Ice-cold, sticky orange juice dripped down my torso, ru
“You’re such an asshole sometimes, you know.” Weston glared at me, throwing me the roll of paper towels. “You deserved that, and more.”
“What have I done?” I wiped as much of the orange juice away as I could, then climbed off my chair to mop the worst of it from the floor. Good thing the cleaner was due today.
Ignoring the smirk Z was giving me, and the fact I was still covered in juice, I bit into my omelette and groaned in appreciation. I may loathe the girl, even more so after that stunt she’d just pulled, but this omelette was the best I’d ever eaten.
“Didn’t you see her face when you insulted her? I couldn’t decide if she wanted to punch you or cry!” West wouldn’t let it drop.
“Yeah, and did you notice the marks on her face look worse today? The marks you inflicted on her?” Cassius interjected.
An unwelcome sensation of guilt settled in my stomach, but I chose to ignore it. The room fell silent as we finished eating, tension in the air.
Weston stood, carrying his plate to the dishwasher. “At least offer to give her a lift back to uni.”
Cassius nodded, speaking around a mouthful of food. “I agree. I’ll take her bike in my car.”