Blyssful Lies (The Blyss Trilogy 2)

“I got here last night, but you were already knocked out.”

“Oh, I guess I fell asleep on the sofa while watching a movie with Travis.” I watch as her thoughts get quickly interrupted, her eyes honing in on the box doughnuts sitting on the coffee table. Then she squeals in delight, “Ohhh...doughnuts! Stryker, I think I love you! Travis never keeps this stuff around.” She glances at me, arching a brow as she condemns me with a sardonic tone, “He only keeps this nasty tasting health food stuff in the house.” That’s okay. I’ve got big shoulders; I can take the blame for the food situation in the house.

She saunters toward us with a grin on her face, heading straight toward the gluten, and it dawns on me a second too late. Aw shit! She wasn’t supposed to find out about our little stash. I’m wide-eyed and speechless, trying desperately to think on my feet of what to do, and only one thing comes to mind: I lean forward and sucker punch the shit out of the doughnut box, sending them all flying every which way. I watch as a couple of them bounce off the wall and onto the floor while Ranger scrambles up from his dormant position and starts scarfing down everything in sight.

Jules crystal blue eyes bolt open as she jumps back, startled. Her hand flies up to her chest as she presses on her heart. “What the hell, Travis?!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Stryker’s shoulders shaking profusely. He’s laughing his ass off silently, hiding the soundless mirth behind the palm of his hand.

I look at Stryker with false mortification. “Did you see that sci-fi looking bug crawl in there? That sucker was huge!” I hold out my thumb and forefinger, indicating the exaggerated size of the nonexistent beast.

Jules visibly shudders as she holds her hands up in the air all squeamish, and squeals, “Ewww! You guys seriously need to get pest control out here.” She backs up with a disgusted look on her face and clambers up on the barstool, tucking her feet under her butt as if that will save her.

Stryker mouths to me between his quiet chuckles, ‘Sci-fi bug?’ I give him a look that tells him to shut up or die.

I sigh a breath of relief as I sink back into the sofa; the crisis has been averted. I pick up my mug and take a sip of coffee, then notice last minute Jules has a glass in her hand. She’s getting ready to pour herself a glass of milk. It dawns on me at the last second she’s lactose intolerant, and I choke on my coffee, spewing it across the coffee table. Holy shit! I can’t keep up with this girl. I catch a glimpse of Stryker, whose eyes are filled with hilarity, and I can tell he’s about to lose his composure.

I have to act quickly before she takes a drink. I spring up from the sofa and jump over the chair in one leap. I reach her just in time, knocking the glass of cold milk out of her hands. Milk goes every-fucking-where, and it’s Ranger to the rescue again as he scrambles onto the linoleum floor to lick up everything in sight.

“What…Travis?! What is wrong with you?!” Jules shouts out.

“Stryker bought bad milk. It has curds in it; it’s no good.” The lie rolls right off my tongue as I my heart pounds from the quick sprint over here. She arches her brow and looks at Stryker.

“He drank some,” she states matter-of-factly as she points to his empty glass on the coffee table.

Stryker is now lying on the floor face-down as his body shakes profusely. “Dude, are you having a seizure?” I shout out to Stryker. Then I turn to Jules and cock my head to the side while pointing at him sprawled out across the floor. “Case in point, look at him! He ain’t right in the head.” I grab the carton of milk and begin pouring the rest of its contents down the sink. Looking over my shoulder, I tell Jules, “Stryker bought this milk on clearance. It’s nasty; trust me.”

Jules lets out a frustrated growl that she gets no milk and no doughnuts today. “You guys are so weird. I’m going to take a shower.” She rolls her eyes and hops off the kitchen stool in a huff, taking off for the bedroom.

Once she’s out of hearing range, I look to Stryker, who’s clambering up off the floor, still chortling at my expense. “What the hell, Stryker? Why’d you bring that shit into the house?” I scold, shooting him the evil eye.

“Hey, I didn’t see you complain when you ate four of those doughnuts all by yourself,” he challenges with a grin.

I sigh heavily and exclaim, “God, I don’t know what gluten is, but I sure as hell love it. This diet is going to be the death of me.” I say that, but I’d eat gluten-free shit every day if it meant I could have her as my forever. Despite all the crazy-ass circumstances, this is the happiest I’ve ever been. I truly didn’t think it was possible for me to care about someone else like this again. Honestly, I thought my soul was blackened out, and ruined for good.