Page 79 of Filthy Secret

A few moments later, Adam and I are in the kitchen together, rummaging through the fridge, when the door swings open. Turning my head, I look to find King making his way into the room. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else, his hair a fucking mess and a smile playing on his lips.

“Morning, Ryan,” he says, his voice soft and rough from sleep.

“Morning, I’m going to make some eggs. There are a couple dozen here. Do you want some?”

His gaze flicks to the egg carton in my hand, then shifts up to meet mine. “Eggs after drinking what I just did?” he asks. “I’m good, but thanks.”

Laughing, I turn toward the counter and start to crack eggs into a bowl. King moves around behind me. I hear him murmur to Adam, and a few minutes later, he’s gone. Scrambling the eggs, I ask Adam if he would like cheese on his.

“Yes, please, ma’am,” he calls out.

Moving to the fridge, I take out a block of white cheddar cheese and get to work grating it so I can sprinkle it on the eggs after they’re finished cooking.

And that’s how Grover finds us.

Adam is at the kitchen counter, watching me as he swings his legs. Then there’s me, with my back to the door, scrambling eggs. I know it’s Grover. I can feel his eyes on my back as he watches me. There is something about him. I know when he enters a room and when he leaves it. I can feel it down to my core.

“I’m making eggs before we leave if you want some,” I call out.

“Before you leave?” he asks.

His voice is rough and soft, just like King’s was, indicating that he’s hungover. I almost laugh because he was plain trashed last night. I almost hope he doesn’t remember anything, but I know Grover well enough to know he does.

“You know, go home. We don’t need to spend another night here. Everything is taken care of, right?” I ask, turning to look over my shoulder at him.

He’s standing with a cup of coffee in his hand, shirtless, his jeans just up to his hips and zipped but not buttoned. His full tattoos are on display, and I want to lick them all. Every single black line of them.

“Home,” he says, his voice gravelly.

“Home,” I whisper.

And without another word, he turns and walks out of the kitchen. I finish the eggs, leaving them on a plate and calling out to whoever wants them in the bar before I sit beside Adam and eat my plate of food. Not long after we’re finished eating, Adam and I do exactly what I said we would. We head home.

I take a long, hot shower, change into something comfortable, and decide that this is my absolute last day of ever feeling sorry for myself. Tomorrow begins a new day and a new life. I’m going to embrace it all and figure out what I’m meant for in this world.

Whatever that is going to be, I know I’m not meant to be Grover’s wife.

The thought causes my breath to hitch, but I shake my head and move past it. I’m going to have to get over it all. Move on completely, at least in my personal love life. Which is going to be interesting with Grover watching my every move and acting as if he has a say in anything I do.

ATOMIC

As much as I want to watch Ryan move through my gourmet clubhouse kitchen as if she was created to belong there, belong in my life, I don’t. I can’t. Turning from her, I move out of the kitchen and head into my office.

The place is a fucking mess from, well… fucking.

It takes me a good fifteen minutes to get everything picked up off the floor and reorganized, but when I’m finished, you can’t even tell that I fucked Ryan here last night. That I was so fucking drunk that I could hardly stand, that I broke her heart and her spirit here.

I know I did just that, too. I could see it behind her eyes this morning in that kitchen. I could hear it when she said the word home. Leaning back in my chair, I stare at the ceiling for a moment. I feel fucking tired, but only because I woke up with a head-pounding hangover. I slept. As soon as my head hit the pillow of one of the guest rooms, I passed the fuck out.

“She’s gone, and her sister is still detoxing alone in that holding room,” King announces as he walks through my door. “Also, what are you doing with her?”

“Ellen?” I ask, then answer before he can say a word. “That bitch is dying today. I’m pissed off and hungover enough to handle her ass.”

Standing, I push my chair backward with my thighs slightly as I look at him from across the room. King’s brows lift, but he doesn’t speak. I watch as he takes a step forward, then pauses.

He’s going to say something. I know he is, and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to like it.

“And Ryan?” he asks.

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