Page 61 of No Strings
I look at him puzzled, why on earth would he think that? “Why?”
“You guys haven’t bickered once today,” he shrugs, “So assumed you guys have?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence. And no, she’s my best friend’s sister. I’m not crossing that line.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince him or me.
“And what, kissing her isn’t crossing a line? And you’re now being nice to each other?”
Fucking Beau. The kiss was a mistake. So is the wanking with her on my mind. Not that I can seem to stop that. And I can’t explain the being nice part.
Deciding to not think too deeply about it, I banish the thoughts from my mind. But much like Morgan, they come back.
Together Beau and I go through the motions. And that’s how we spend the rest of the afternoon.
The next morning, we’re back in full swing, and up at the crack of dawn.
Entering the kitchen, I’m met with Morgan hunched over her sketchpad. She either doesn’t notice that I’m in the same room as her, or she doesn’t care. Both annoy me.
I go about making coffee. When I place the mug in front of her, she almost jumps clean off the chair. I bite my tongue, trying not to laugh.
She frowns at the coffee then her eyes shift looking towards me. And when those brilliant blues settle on me, they grow wide. She quickly snaps her sketchpad closed. Which has me wondering what she’s hiding.
I arch an eyebrow. “What ya drawing?”
“None of your business.” She stands up. Only now noticing she’s in a skintight white tank top. I’m not overly proud of myself when my gaze shifts from her face to her tits. She’s not wearing a bra, and her nipples form into peaks, poking through her top.
I groan. “Go put on a bra; we have shit to do.”
We don’t, but I don’t want to look at her perky tits.God yes, I do.Naturally she glares at me. Then she turns on her heels and marches to her room. In those fucking short shorts. She’s going to kill me or get me killed.
Deciding not to put myself through torture, I think it’s best she stays back with Davis, who is working in the shop giving Dani a day off, and because I don’t want him pulling a stitch.
I’d like to take a minute to pat myself on the back for showing something that resembles self-control. Although it is fucking thinning.
I walk outside to get fresh air. Beau and Davis are already there. Davis is lighting up a smoke, while Beau drones on about something. Saying a quick good morning, I tell them about the plans.
“I’m fine, I can go out.” Davis almost sounds whiny.
“Lift your arms,” he goes to, until I say above his head. Which he can’t do. “Yeah no, you’re in the shop.”
“It’s just the stitches.”
“Staying.” He frowns but accepts his fate. “Oh, also I think it’s best Morgan stays back today as well.”
He blows out a cloud of smoke, “So, I’m on Morgan duty?”
“No, Morgan is on Davis duty.”
I laugh at my own joke while his frown somehow deepens.And almost like fucking Beetlejuice Morgan steps outside. Thank fuck, she has a bra on, and well, her denim shorts aren’t much better than the silk shorts from earlier, but they’ll do. “Princess, you’re with Davis.”
She stands next to me. “How about Morgan, you’re with Davis.”
I pretend to think on it before answering. “Nah, I like my version better.”
“You would.” She rolls her eyes while crossing her arms over her chest.
Beau groans and rolls his eyes. “Back to the bickering then?”
“We are not.” It probably doesn’t help that we said it at the same time.
