Page 51 of Butterfly Effect

Another loud thud comes from my bedroom.

Uh oh.

The door bursts open, and a disheveled Gabe Finch appears. Like a newborn fawn, all wobbly knees and doe-eyed confusionabout how she got thrown into this world. She hugs her sneakers to her chest.

The boys freeze.

“Uh…”

Landon’s mouth curves into a shit-eating grin as he picks his phone up from the coffee table. “Hey, Gabe.”

Fletcher says nothing. His beet-red face says enough.

I stand and meet her at the door, hiding her from these dirtbags. “Morning,sweetheart.”

Don’t think I missed where her eyes fall on my gray sweats. I will my dick to stay down.

Don’t you fucking move.

It twitches in rebellion.

Gabe peers up as I close in, mouth gaping.

“Take a picture, Freckles,” I whisper. “It’ll last longer.”

Her mouth snaps shut.

Lips pursing as my eyes motion to the top of her head, then torso, I silently ask for her permission. She understands and agrees with a subtle nod.

The dip of her waist slots against my hand as I drop a kiss on her forehead. The contact is short but addictive. Enough to bring my stomach to my heart and my heart to my throat.

Not good. Not good. Bad, very bad.

“Sleep well?”

Gabe squeaks in response.

Stifled snickering echoes behind me. I throw them a glare.

“Let’s talk inside.”

As I shut the door behind me, Gabe storms around, furiously wiping the spot where I kissed her away with the back of her hand.

“Was that necessary?”

“Shhh!” I stiff-arm her and push, shuffling to the back of the room until we make it to the furthest corner. Can’t risk eavesdroppers.

I whisper-yell, “You’re my girlfriend, remember? I’d kiss my girlfriend good morning. You’re lucky it wasn’t on the mouth.”

Her voice lowers as a finger pokes into my pec. “Fake.” Poke. “Girlfriend.” Poke.

Fake. Every time she says that my chest burns.

My hand wraps around hers to remove it. “Your morning breath stinks.”

“Good!” She sends a sour puff of air right at me.

I kiai with stiff karate hands, but it’s ineffective.

---