Page 18 of A Little Complicated

“Ditto.”

4

MAVERICK

Fucking hell.

I can hear them. It makes sense. We share a wall. Maybe they’re watching a movie, or maybe they’re fucking each other’s brains out, but if I have to keep listening to this shit, I’ll wind up putting a bullet in my skull if I’m not careful.

Fucking Opie. The woman knows how to get under my skin more than anyone else in the world, and she just had to wind up with my brother.

Shoving my pillow over my head, I wait for them to shut up and fall into a restless sleep.

* * *

After pissing in the bathroom,I head to the kitchen but stop short when I find Lia leaning against the island in one of Archer’s T-shirts. A coffee cup is pressed to her lips, and her hair is piled on top of her head, leaving curls of chaos framing her slender face. When she sees me, her eyes narrow over the rim of her cup, but she doesn’t comment, taking another sip of coffee as she waits for something.

“Ever heard of pants?” I ask.

She looks down at her bare legs and quirks her brow. “Do you ever make your conquests wear pants?”

“You’re not one of my conquests.” My eyes slide down her bare legs. “Not recently, anyway.”

“Keep dreaming, Maverick.”

I bite my bottom lip. “You can fucking count on it.”

She lets out a soft scoff and presses her pouty lips into a thin line.

“What? Is there a problem with me imagining myself between your pretty little thighs?” I bounce my brows up and down.

“Cut the bullshit,” she snaps. “Archer isn’t here to witness your charade or…whatever the hell this is, so give it a rest.”

My facade falls, and I fold my arms. “Where is he?”

“Already left.”

“Yet you’re still here,” I mutter, searching the cabinets and finding a mug of my own.

I fill it with coffee, ignoring the lethal gaze burning the side of my face.

“So, what’s the problem?” she prods.

“You don’t live here.”

“So?”

“So, why are you here?” I ask. “If Archer already left, why are you standing in my kitchen in nothing but a thong and a borrowed T-shirt like you own the place?”

She lifts the shirt, showcasing a pair of boy shorts. They hug her ass andalmostoutline her pussy. She quirks her brow. “Not wearing a thong. And I’m not going anywhere. Although Iamimpressed with how you’ve set aside the snarky persona for a solid two minutes so we can potentially have an actual conversation. Bravo, Maverick.”

“The question is, what do we do without it?” I move closer, crowding her space. “Do I put you on the counter and—”

“Stop,” she orders.

“What? You don’t want to hear me tell you all the ways I can make you come? I’d say it’s hardly fair, considering the front-row seats I had to Archer being inside you last night.”

Her flinch cuts me off, bringing a wave of guilt with it, but I hold back my apology and glare down at her, daring her to deny it. To tell me she didn’t sleep with my brother. That she hasn’t been sleeping with my brother.

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