Page 6 of Unforeseen Love

I throw off my duvet and pad out in search of the curdling noise to find Sienna at the kitchen counter, her back to me as she fiddles with a contraption in front of her, and for a moment, I’m distracted by her tight yoga pants and––from what I can make out––the back of a sports bra.

The rumbling of the machine brings me back to why I’ve been dragged out of bed at this ungodly hour. I look up at the clock as, honestly, I have no idea what time it is.

But I wasn’t far off; it’s barely six a.m.

Approaching her, I reach over her shoulder and pull out the plug.

“What the fuck?” she says shocked, as she spins to face me, tilting her head back so she’s looking up at my face.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She lunges for the plug, but I hold it out of her reach. She stumbles into my chest, but then quickly leans back against the counter when she’s met with my morning wood.

I cock an eyebrow at her, noting the flush of her cheeks.

Grumbling, she pushes at my chest, and this time, I take a step back.

“Do you mind?” she says, crossing her arms over her chest, my eyes drawn to the action as I get the perfect view of her cleavage.

“Not when I’m woken by the electrical screaming of this torture device, no,” I reply, throwing the plug on the counter.

“Well, I was here first,” she says, exasperated.

I throw my head back and laugh; the sound deep from just waking up.

“Oh, Morticia, how old are you? Like, five?”

Her eyes turn to slits as she grinds her jaw, and I take another step back to avoid a knee to my crotch.

“Fuck off.”

She turns her back to me and plugs in the blender to finish off whatever green concoction she has going on in there.

When she’s done, she removes the jug and turns to find me still staring.

“Want some?” She angles the jug in my direction before pouring it into a to-go cup and screwing on the lid.

My stomach revolts, and I shake my head. “Hell to the no.” I’m all for keeping fit, don’t get me wrong, I can drink a protein shake, but those smoothie concoctions are not for me. The last time I had one, I swear it repeated on me all bloody day.

I flick on the kettle and rummage in the cupboard for some coffee. It’s not like I’m going to be sleeping now, is it?

“Why the hell are you even up at this time?” I ask.

She sashays past me, and it annoys me the way her arse moves in those yoga pants. I have to adjust myself in my boxers.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have spinning class,” she replies over her shoulder. “And do you think you could maybe put some clothes on? This isn’t a damn bachelor pad.”

I wiggle my eyebrows as her eyes roam over my bare chest.

“Why? Do you like what you see?” I tease.

She chokes back her disgust. “Not even a little bit,” she replies, and I can’t help but laugh again.

Huffing, she makes her way over to her holdall and stops.

“Oh, and another thing, make sure you do a grocery shop today. That’s my coffee.”

I don’t get a chance to reply before she’s down the hallway and slamming the front door in her wake.

Rubbing my hand over my face, I let out a yawn. The last time I was up this early was either for a flight or because I was yet to go to bed.

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