Page 10 of The Storms Between Us
eight
I groanas the morning light cuts across my face. I've gotta remember to get some curtains today when I go out. Looking down at my phone, the clock reads 9:45 am. Wow, I must have been tired as hell. I rarely sleep past 8, even after a night out with Kelsea. I swing my legs over the side of the air mattress, stretching my aching back. First thing on my list today is to get my bed put together. I can't take another night on that thing. Shuffling to the bathroom, I go about fulfilling my morning routine. Teeth brushed, face washed, and hair in a high pony, I make my way down the stairs. I can hear the guys joking back and forth in the kitchen about whose lines are better. I'm assuming that's some kind of tattoo lingo which is totally lost on me.
"He cooks," I say, causing both men to snap their attention in my direction. Everett sits on a barstool with the paper in front of him while Elijah looks to be making French toast in a skillet on the stove.
"Well hello there, sleepyhead!" My brother snakes an arm around my shoulder and squeezes. "About fuckin' time you got down here. I was this close to waking your ass up to come enjoy my gourmet breakfast."
I look over at Eli, who rolls his eyes and turns back to the stove, flipping the toast before it burns. "Yeah Ev, you look like a real Gordon Ramsey in here, observing all and doing nothing." I jibe and I swear I hear Eli snickering.
"Hey, it's the thought that counts, babe. Ithoughtyou would love to survive through breakfast, so I dragged Eli's ass out of bed because you know this pretty face doesn't cook." Everett says with a shrug.
"Well, I guess I should thank you for thinking about me at all," I scoff.
Eli turns around with a serving tray piled high with thick slices of French toast and a mason jar with what looks to be maple syrup in it. Setting it down on the bar between my brother and me, he turns to retrieve plates from the cabinet behind him.
"Thank you, Elijah," I say, not meaning to sound so breathy. I see the muscles in his back tense and relax and he mumbles back a quick, "You're welcome."
Settling in my seat at the bar, I dig in to the delicious breakfast in front of me. I've never been one to shy away from a good meal. Even when I was surrounded by sorority girls in the campus cafeteria, I never felt an ounce of shame eating an extra pancake or two. This French toast is unlike anything I've ever tasted on campus, though. Not only is he built like a fucking Greek god, but the man can cook, too. I let out a small moan as the bite melts in my mouth. A fork clattering to the counter top across from me breaks my food trance. Eli recovers quickly, but not before I feel the familiar heat of a blush creeping up my body. Remembering back to his rough hands on my face last night makes it that much worse. I shiver in my seat, my nipples tightening at the thought of his hands on my skin. My throat goes dry as I reach for the glass of water in front of me, gulping it down. Hearing Eli clear his throat, I look up to see him staring straight at my shirt. No, not my shirt. My very visible and hard nipples practically poking through the fabric of my white sleep shirt. I quickly cross my arms over my chest, but it's too late. He's already seen the effect he has on my body.
"Well, this was delicious. I'm gonna go change," I say in a rush, not giving either of them a chance to say anything before I'm halfway up the stairs and safely inside my room. I push my back against the door and slide down to the floor. Will there ever be a time when I don't completely embarrass myself in front of this man? Most likely not. I'm gonna have to remember to wear a bra at all times around here.
I grab a towel and head for the bathroom to shower, hoping I can scrub the mortification from my skin. I turn the faucet halfway and suddenly water comes spraying out of the hole in the wall where the shower head used to be. I let out a shriek and I fumble for the handle to try to turn it off. Before I know it, both men are lumbering through my door like the house is on fire.
"What the hell?!" I hear Everett say while I'm still trying to stop the torrential downpour.
I feel a muscular arm come around my waist, dragging me out of the way and turning the faucet off. I turn to see a soaking wet Elijah staring at me and the personal wet t-shirt contest I'm having in my bathroom.
"Holy shit, Sparky. You broke the damn house already!" Everett says with a chuckle from behind Eli.
"I did not!! All I did was turn on the tap to take a damn shower!!" I throw back, putting my arms across my chest to cover my now completely transparent shirt.
"Pipe must be busted or something," Eli grumbles. "I don't think we've ever even used this bathroom. I didn't think to make sure everything was working okay."
"Well, I'm here to attest that everything is definitely not working okay," I say with a smirk, "but hey, at least the ceiling's clean." I shrug and point at the water dripping down all around us.
"Damn, I'm gonna go grab some extra towels." Everett says rushing downstairs.
"Such a silver lining thing to say, Sunshine." Eli gives me a magnificent smile. I wish I could take a picture of that smile and keep it forever.
"You should smile more often." I say without thinking. I see the fire in Eli's eyes blaze hotter as he watches me with a predatory gaze.
"Haven't had much to smile about lately. But I think that's turning around." He gives me a boyish grin that makes my heart drop into my stomach.
Our bubble is burst by my brother shoving towels between us. "Here, I could only find these two extra downstairs. We'll have to pick up a couple more today and call the landlord tomorrow to come fix this shit," Everett says, surveying the damage.
"I'll see what I can do with it. In the meantime, you're welcome to use mine," Eli says, surprising me.
"Oh, um, are you sure? I don't wanna impose or anything." I say, awkwardly clutching a towel to my chest.
"Well, you definitely don't wanna use mine, Sparky." Everett says, walking back downstairs. "You've lived with me before. You, of all people, know cleaning is my kryptonite. You'd be better off with the hose in the backyard," he jokes, but thinking back to a teenage Everett, I know he's not lying.
"Yeah, it's no problem. A girl has to shower, right? I'll have to turn off the water in this room anyway, so you'll have to have somewhere to go." Eli sounds very calm and collected, making me wonder how many other women he's invited to use his bathroom. An unfamiliar pang of jealousy strikes through me. Where the hell did that come from? I've never been the jealous type, and he doesn't belong to me. But maybe I wish he did.
