Page 49 of A Little Jaded
He stops fighting me but doesn’t let go of the dish, so I add, “I actually really like the flavor of mushrooms, but the texture messes with my head, and if I’m being completely honest, this is the best omelet I’ve ever tasted despite the fungus balls, so will you please let me finish it?”
His eyes fall to my mouth, but he lets go of the plate, and I take another bite of eggs, careful not to get any mushrooms with it.
“Do you need a ride somewhere?” he prods.
I cover my mouth so he can’t see me chewing and answer, “Uh, yeah. Have you ever been to Etch ‘N’ Ink?”
He shakes his head.
After swallowing, I explain, “It’s close to SeaBird. I need to be there at four.”
“I’ll be home in time to take you after practice and will hang out at the house until you’re finished. Does that work?”
“I might be late,” I argue.
“I can wait. Might wanna figure out what to do with your lip, though.” His eyes trail over me one more time. “Girls are on their way.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“Don’t go anywhere,” he warns, pinching another mushroom between his fingers, popping it into his mouth, and sucking the edge of his thumb. His strong jaw flexes with every chew, and it’s weirdly…hot. Watching him clean up my mess and eat the scraps off my plate. “I’ll be home in a few hours.” Then, he walks away.
And as I watch him leave, my brows pull.
How can someone be so mercurial? So helpful but combative at the same time. It’s…dizzying. He’s right about the lip, though. I touch the still-tender cut and frown. My dad’s gonna kill me. But at least I’ll die with a belly full of deliciousness. Seriously. I cut another bite off and pick it up, studying the cheese’s string pull, perfectly tender vegetables, and bits of crumbled bacon folded into the fluffy egg.
Yeah, this man is…something else for sure.
“You haveno idea how much I need this,” Finley announces as soon as I unlock the front door.
I won’t lie. I’ve been dreading this. Hanging out with girlsI barely know all because Everett’s too stubborn to leave me alone. It’s…annoying. Thoughtful but annoying. Then again, I can’t decide if lining up a babysitter for me is the annoying part or if it’s the fact he thinks I need one in the first place.
Drake doesn’t know where I am. He has zero idea. And even if he did, the only thing he’s more obsessed with than me is hockey. Since he has hockey practice every morning, there’s no way he’d jeopardize his place on the bench by missing it to track me down. It also doesn’t help that I’ve only had one interaction with these girls, and even though they were nothing but friendly, I’m still wary. They don’t know me, and I sure as hell don’t know them, so why are we being forced to hang out together under the guise of a weekend morning hang out when we all know they’re only here to babysit me and hopefully keep Drake at bay.
Yeah, because these girls could stop him if he showed up on the doorstep. Then again, I guess there’s safety in numbers? Honestly, at this point, I don’t even know.
As Finley walks into the cabin like she owns the place—then again, I guess she does—Ophelia and Dylan trail behind, giving me smiles when they pass. Once everyone’s inside, I lock the front door, take a deep breath, and follow them into the kitchen. They each have sacks hanging from their arms, and I tilt my head as they set them on the counter, rummage through the contents, and place things in the fridge.
“What are you guys doing?” I ask.
“We’ve decided we’re vegging today,” Ophelia informs me.
“Oh! I brought you something,” Dylan adds.
She pulls a black and yellow gun from one of the sacks and tries to hand it to me, but I only stare at it. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s a taser,” she explains. “Reeves got one for each of us a little while ago. Thanks to his previous line of work?—”
“And Everett’s current one,” Finley chimes in.
Dylan bats her friend away and offers me the taser again. “Reeves figured it would help him sleep at night if he knew all of us were carrying one since there are a lot of creepers out there.”
“Go figure you’d need it most,” Finley quips. “And in case you’re wondering, Dylan can confirm it definitely works.”
Dylan rolls her eyes. “I shot Reevesonetime.”
“Yeah, and it was hilarious,” Finley replies.
Jutting her bottom lip out, Dylan folds her arms. “You said you wouldn’t make fun of me for it anymore, remember?”