Page 7 of The Chase

The little fizz cares.

I wish I could tell my mind to shut up sometimes.

"That's just a formality." Avery folds her arms while her eyes dance. “He saved you."

And that's the problem. Owing him for something adds complexities that I can't swim through, and I know he will happily take on the responsibility of my lifeguard.

Asshole.

I can handle Zac, but Austin feels like a fly stuck on flypaper.

"He likes you."

"Zac?" I narrow my gaze at her.

"Austin."

“Austin likes anyone with a vagina.”

Avery snorts.

"Coffee is ready!" Austin shouts. He's probably like this after all of his dates, with the morning coffee routine and then he gets rid of them.

I huff, climb out of the bed and find the light switch, I turn it on and see Avery crawling from the bed. "No one should be awake at this hour. I figured you wouldn't want to sleep in your jeans, so I took them off."

I nod. Panties, nice ones, my tee and bra are still in place. I look around the room, finding my jeans on a chair. It’s a nice room, and that surprises me. What expectations should I have about a bedroom I've never expected to see? His grey duvet matches the three walls. The wall behind the bed is made up of... I look closer, wooden oars? They interlock together and it’s clever. Near the door is a simple dresser, above the dresser are hanging plants...really? Plants? There are several framed pictures of Boston, the Charles River, and someone rowing. I step closer to look.

“Coffee!”

Jesus. He’s pushy.

I wonder, for a millisecond, what he’d be like in bed. Will he be just as demanding?

I suck in a breath, my fingers hovering near my chest.

What is wrong with me?This is Austin Whitlock, he’s probably a walking advertisement for an STD.

I grab my jeans, pulling them up and wiggling them over my hips, I fasten them as Avery opens the door, and for a split second my appearance hits my thoughts. I quickly rub my fingers under my eyes, because pushing mascara away makes everything better... I’ll never see him again, and panda eyes are the least of my worries.

I’ve spent the better part of two years having neverbumpedinto Austin Whitlock.

It will go back to that once I leave this place.

The apartment isn't what I expect it to be, not with four grown ass men living here. We shuffle into an open plan space with large windows that allow the rising sun to break through. The place is mostly brick with a steel kind of look going for it. Dark blues and teals are used in this area, contrasting with the bare brick. Seriously, who decorated? The island in the kitchen is occupied by three other guys, ones I’m sure that I met last night.

I nod my thanks at blue eyes who smiles as he pulls another stool out for me. Austin remains behind the counter, eyes tracking my every move. I know the second I look at him that those eyes of his will create an irregular rhythm in my chest, so, in my own little pathetic way, I’m going to control the way I feel when his eyes hit my face. I just won’t look.

"These are my boys, I introduced them last night. Lucas, Kit and Sawyer."

I lamely wave as he points to them individually. Sawyer is the giant who’d moved the stool for me. I watch him, mouth open, as he gathers his curls into a hair tie. His curls match the strength of his coffee, stand your spoon in it strong.

Wow. Okay. He’s pretty in a ‘I’ll kill you with one look’ kind of way, but they're allbuilt,and good looking, which is hardly fair. No wonder Avery looked supermodel ready, she knew what she was walking in to. Surely there should be a ratio of pretty men in one room. Four out of four is high odds. I notice Lucas gawping at Avery, and hide my smile. I hope he's used to being eaten for breakfast. “How do you all fit in this place with your egos?”

Kit laughs. “I like her!”

As I grin at Kit, Austin’s jaw pulses with displeasure. I’m not giving him the attention he’s probably used to.

“What's the history with Zac?" Sawyer asks. His voice is gruff and it makes me wonder if it's from sleep or he actually talks like that all the time. The whole package adds up to dangerous, yethis blue eyes say ‘sweetheart’. I mean, he pulled a stool out for me.

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