Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 52813 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52813 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
When I walk into the kitchen, I do a double take, stopping. Owen’s standing by the counter wearing nothing but gray sweatpants, sipping a cup of coffee.
“Morning,” he says.
Morning? Like he belongs in Stella’s kitchen at six a.m., shirtless?
“What in the fuck are you doing here?”
“I spent the night with Claire.”
He leans back against the counter, clearly enjoying the open shock on my face. “Are you serious?”
Shrugging, he grins and turns around. “Does my back look serious?”
Swollen red scratch marks run the length of his back. I run a hand through my hair, unable to close my mouth.
“But she hates you.”
“Oh, for sure. I hate her, too. But we’re off the charts compatible in bed. I mean, like...wow.”
He pours me a cup of coffee and passes it to me. “I have to be at the office early today, unfortunately. What about you, are you flying home this morning?”
I take a sip of the coffee, still not believing this is happening. “Yeah, I have a 9:00 flight.” I open the refrigerator door and scan the contents. “You want some eggs?”
“Yeah, I’ll help you make breakfast.”
We’re unloading items from the refrigerator to the counter when I notice an inflamed red circle on Owen’s upper chest. “Dude, what happened there?”
He glances down. “Oh. Claire’s a biter.”
“Jesus. I heard shit going down last night but I had no idea it was you in there with her.”
“Yeah, she might chase me out of here as soon as she wakes up. Fuck, it was worth it, though.”
I start cracking eggs into a bowl. “Whose idea was this?”
Owen balks. “Shit, man. You think I would have tried to get with her? It was her idea, but as soon as I got the text I was in.”
“Claire texted you and wanted to hook up?”
It defies all logic.
“Yep.”
“How drunk was she?”
“Not even a little.” He passes me a whisk. “And is she ever amazing.”
I whisk a dozen eggs, wondering how Stella’s going to take this development. It’s not like Claire to do something like this; she’s very loyal to Stella.
Owen’s browning sausage on the stove and I’m putting scrambled eggs in a serving bowl when Stella and Claire walk into the kitchen together a few minutes later. I prepare myself to break up a fight if needed.
“Morning,” Stella says, kissing me. “Coffee.”
Claire’s already pouring them each a cup, dressed in a purple silk robe, her blond hair loose around her shoulders. I assume Owen didn’t also beat the shit out of her in bed, but who even knows?
“Good, you found the sausage,” Stella says to Owen, sitting down next to me.
I gape at her. Obviously Claire got her blessing beforehand, which makes it slightly better, but still...weird.
“I told you to be gone when I woke up,” Claire says to Owen, not a touch of playfulness in her tone.
“I thought I’d make you breakfast first,” Owen says.
“I do love sausage.”
“Don’t I know it,” he quips, grinning at her.
“But I still fucking hate you.”
“Same.”
She gives him a serious look. “We aren’t kissing goodbye or anything.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You stole my covers in the middle of the night.”
Owen opens the kitchen cabinet. “Hand me a plate, will you?”
Claire passes him one.
“At least I made you see stars before I stole your covers,” he says. “Isn’t that what you said? You saw stars?”
She scoffs. “Get over yourself. I recall you almost crying at one point, so I think we’re even.”
He winks at her and she scowls, turning away from him. When he smacks her ass—hard—Stella and I exchange a look. I wonder if she’ll grab a knife and cut him for that.
“Can’t resist that sweet ass,” he says, and when she turns around to look at him, her cheeks are flushed.
“We’re not in the bedroom,” she says, trying to sound upset.
“And yet.”
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” she says lightly. “You said you have to get to work.”
Stella puts a hand on my knee beneath the table. “Hey, can we talk in the other room?”
I nod and practically jump out of my seat, eager to escape before Owen and Claire start banging on the kitchen counter.
“What the fuck?” I whisper hiss when we’re alone in the living room.
She smiles. “I know. I was shocked, too.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Just since last night.”
“And it was her idea?”
Stella nods. “Yes. But that’s not why I asked you to come out here. I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“I want to go home with you.”
I put my hands on her waist, not believing my ears. “Today? Really?”
“I’d rather be there with you than here without you.”
I kiss her and wrap my arms around her waist, picking her up. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I mean, I’ll have things to sort out, but...we can figure it all out, right?”
“Absolutely. I know my parents will help.”
“Fuck you!” Claire yells from the kitchen.