Page 15 of Wings of Destiny

“I’m sorry too.”

“Night.”

“Night, Seth.”

Chapter four

Erin

I woke up to snoring. Loud, obnoxious snoring. I rolled over, pulling the blankets with me to cover my head and try to drown the thunderous noise out. The snores grew louder. Giving up, I threw the covers off and found Seth’s open mouth about three inches from my face. Then it hit me, the foulest morning breath. Rotten eggs had nothing on him. I gagged as I fumbled my way out of bed, chucking a pillow at his head in the process.

Seth groaned. “What the hell, man?” He sat up, glaring at me. His hair tousled in what should’ve been a rats nest but for some reason it unfairly looked wildly untamed and sexy like he just walked out of a magazine.

“Your breath smells like ass, Seth.” I pinched my nose for exaggeration.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well yours ain’t much better, short stuff.”

“Short stuff? Dude, I’mbarelyshorter than you. Anyone would be short compared to your six foot four inch ass.” I jabbed back.

Five foot seven isn’t short, you jerk.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, small fry.” He tossed the rest of the blankets off and onto the floor into a heap. Seth swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up, and stretched. His back muscles flexed, causing my cheeks to flush. Again.

When did Seth get so…muscle-y?

And…hot.

Ew, Erin. Stop.

“I’ll, uh, go make some food.” I practically ran to the kitchen. Maybe all of these weird reactions to Seth are from the whole Nephilim thing. Hormones via puberty 2.0. Even when I had that small crush on him a few years back, I’d never been remotelythatbad. I felt like some love-sick teenager.

I fumbled around Seth’s kitchen in search of eggs, toast, or honestly anything to whip up some much needed food. I was about to give up when a pack of bagels shoved in the back of the pantry caught my eye.

Yes! Victory!

Setting the toaster to the least toasty level for mine and damn near burn status for Seth’s, I popped the bagels in and waited.

Right about the time they popped out, Seth made his way to the kitchen and plopped down at the island. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

“We’re doing bagels, considering your pantry and fridge are both bare as hell,” I replied as I slid his crisped breakfast across the island. “Once we’re done, you and I are trucking up to the store. Then we’ll hit my apartment once this place is restocked.”

“Sounds like a plan, boss,” he mumbled around bites of bagel, crumbs clinging to his thick stubble.

We finished our food in a comfortable silence, neither of us are morning people, so sliding past the awkward chit-chat worked perfectly for me.

Seth cleared the plates while I whipped up a couple of coffees to take with us. Between the temporary move-in-with-my-best-friend situation and shopping, we were both going to need it. Extra espresso in each, no questions asked.

Grabbing our liquid energy for the day, we headed out; Seth locked the door behind us. The great thing about his place? It’s a huge lot right off a small paved road with only a handful of neighbors. Downside, the local grocery store is a two mile walk, which is unfortunately too short of a distance for Seth to justify a quick drive. Running is one thing, but walking two miles one way with bags of food. No thanks, I’d rather be stuck in Jensin’s class for a whole ass evening.

Ugh.

I mentally groveled about the trek ahead of us when Seth took off in a sprint. My eyebrows shot up. “What are you doing?” I yelled after him.

He glanced over his shoulder, laughing. “Racing obviously.” The jerk stopped and stuck his tongue out at me, clearly challenging me, so I sprinted after him.

You ass.

I caught up to him quickly. Just because he had a head start, I refused to lose to him. I ran past Seth, stuck my tongue out, and blew raspberries at him.

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