It’s a picture of Bailey and Landen from when they first met.
Bending down, I pick up the frame and set it on the kitchen counter before walking back over and quickly reaching for the shards of broken glass. I jump as I feel the edge of the smaller piece pierce through my skin, cutting me. “Double shit.”
I’m in too much of a rush to care about a small cut, so I quickly rip off a paper towel and wrap it around my hand, stepping back out onto the front porch and locking the door behind me.
When I turn around I almost bump into Memphis. He’s standing right behind me with his arms crossed over his chest. As soon as his eyes land on what I’m wearing he growls and takes off his jacket, draping it over my shoulders. It’s so big I am practically drowning in it.
“It’s not exactly warm out here. A little more clothes would have been nice.”
Grabbing ahold of his jacket I follow behind him as he walks back to his house. “I’m not cold. I actually prefer the cooler weather over it being hot. You could have kept your jacket on.”
He turns to me and growls, his eyes staying on mine. “Your nipples are hard, Lyric, so either you’re cold or turned on.” He reaches for the garage door and opens it. “Or both. Either way, you need to cover up . . . for both of our sakes. Trust me.”
He motions for me to walk inside before he steps in behind me and closes the door. I watch him with a scowl, pissed off at his attitude. “Are you always a dickhead or just to me?”
“Does it make a difference?” He turns around and walks past me, keeping his attention as far away from me as he can. “I’m just getting by the best way I know how, so please just keep covered up. Is that better?”
“I was in a hurry. You made me feel rushed,” I scoff. “You act as if you’ve never seen a set of tits.”
“Not the point,” he growls.
I pull his jacket tighter and can’t help but to breathe in his masculine scent. As crazy as this sounds—I could sniff this jacket all night. Call me a weirdo but I don’t care. I’ve never smelt anything so sexy in my life. He may be a dick, but doesn’t mean I have to take it out on his jacket.
Before I even realize it we’re stopped in the kitchen and he’s reaching into the fridge. He pulls out a bottle of water, takes the lid off, and slides it on the counter close to me. “Here’s some water. I haven’t had much time to shop yet. There are a few snacks in the cupboard if you’re hungry.”
I nod my head as he points over to his snack stash.
“I’m going downstairs. Stay up here.”
I grab for the bottle of water and take a small sip. “For what? And what am I supposed to do then? Stand here like an idiot?”
He turns his head to the side and lets out a small breath before motioning toward the living room. It’s as if me being here is painful. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back. Just don’t go snooping and don’t fucking come downstairs.” He turns away and grips the counter before releasing it with a sigh. “Drink the water. You could use it.”
“Alright then,” I mumble to myself as his eyes land on the hand holding the water.
“What the fuck?” He comes at me faster than I’ve ever seen him move before. Without a word he grabs the water out of my hand, tosses it, and unwraps my hand. “When the hell did this happen?”
“Does it matter?” I try pulling my hand away, but he grips it harder, stopping me.
He examines the small slash before pulling me over to the sink and turning the water on. “Stay right here. I’ll be back.” He places my hand under the water and takes off down the hallway.
I take a better look at the cut and realize it’s a little bigger than I initially thought. It’s still nothing to freak out about.
I’ve been standing here a couple minutes, starting to think he got lost, when he comes walking back down the hall with a first aid kit. Turning off the water, he grabs me by the hips and lifts me onto the
Bending down, I pick up the frame and set it on the kitchen counter before walking back over and quickly reaching for the shards of broken glass. I jump as I feel the edge of the smaller piece pierce through my skin, cutting me. “Double shit.”
I’m in too much of a rush to care about a small cut, so I quickly rip off a paper towel and wrap it around my hand, stepping back out onto the front porch and locking the door behind me.
When I turn around I almost bump into Memphis. He’s standing right behind me with his arms crossed over his chest. As soon as his eyes land on what I’m wearing he growls and takes off his jacket, draping it over my shoulders. It’s so big I am practically drowning in it.
“It’s not exactly warm out here. A little more clothes would have been nice.”
Grabbing ahold of his jacket I follow behind him as he walks back to his house. “I’m not cold. I actually prefer the cooler weather over it being hot. You could have kept your jacket on.”
He turns to me and growls, his eyes staying on mine. “Your nipples are hard, Lyric, so either you’re cold or turned on.” He reaches for the garage door and opens it. “Or both. Either way, you need to cover up . . . for both of our sakes. Trust me.”
He motions for me to walk inside before he steps in behind me and closes the door. I watch him with a scowl, pissed off at his attitude. “Are you always a dickhead or just to me?”
“Does it make a difference?” He turns around and walks past me, keeping his attention as far away from me as he can. “I’m just getting by the best way I know how, so please just keep covered up. Is that better?”
“I was in a hurry. You made me feel rushed,” I scoff. “You act as if you’ve never seen a set of tits.”
“Not the point,” he growls.
I pull his jacket tighter and can’t help but to breathe in his masculine scent. As crazy as this sounds—I could sniff this jacket all night. Call me a weirdo but I don’t care. I’ve never smelt anything so sexy in my life. He may be a dick, but doesn’t mean I have to take it out on his jacket.
Before I even realize it we’re stopped in the kitchen and he’s reaching into the fridge. He pulls out a bottle of water, takes the lid off, and slides it on the counter close to me. “Here’s some water. I haven’t had much time to shop yet. There are a few snacks in the cupboard if you’re hungry.”
I nod my head as he points over to his snack stash.
“I’m going downstairs. Stay up here.”
I grab for the bottle of water and take a small sip. “For what? And what am I supposed to do then? Stand here like an idiot?”
He turns his head to the side and lets out a small breath before motioning toward the living room. It’s as if me being here is painful. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back. Just don’t go snooping and don’t fucking come downstairs.” He turns away and grips the counter before releasing it with a sigh. “Drink the water. You could use it.”
“Alright then,” I mumble to myself as his eyes land on the hand holding the water.
“What the fuck?” He comes at me faster than I’ve ever seen him move before. Without a word he grabs the water out of my hand, tosses it, and unwraps my hand. “When the hell did this happen?”
“Does it matter?” I try pulling my hand away, but he grips it harder, stopping me.
He examines the small slash before pulling me over to the sink and turning the water on. “Stay right here. I’ll be back.” He places my hand under the water and takes off down the hallway.
I take a better look at the cut and realize it’s a little bigger than I initially thought. It’s still nothing to freak out about.
I’ve been standing here a couple minutes, starting to think he got lost, when he comes walking back down the hall with a first aid kit. Turning off the water, he grabs me by the hips and lifts me onto the
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