I opt to dress for comfort over cuteness, drawing on a pair of baggy sweats with cuffed ankles and a loose-fitting cropped tee, sans bra, before slipping my cell phone into my pocket and setting out toward the kitchen in search of coffee.
There’s no sign of West—or AJ and Brock for that matter—but judging from the smell of freshly brewed goodness wafting my way and the telltale completion gurgle, someone just made a fresh pot of coffee. “Thank you, whoever you are,” I murmur softly as I snag a mug from the cabinet. Filling it to the halfway mark, I top off the steaming liquid with a healthy pour of hazelnut creamer.
“Why don’t you have a little coffee with your cream?” West asks from behind me, sending my heart leaping right out of my chest.
“Jesus! You scared me.” I spin to face him. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”
“Wasn’t sneaking,” he says, holding up his hands in a show of innocence.
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and move past him to the island bar.
He’s still only wearing his gray sweats—drool—and I can’t help but admire the sinewy muscles of his back as he fixes himself a cup of coffee before joining me.
“The happy couple is up,” he says before taking a sip. “Should be out any minute.”
I nod, too busy mentally going over the remaining items on my to-do list. I still need to reach out to my work, Dad’s lawyer, and the bail bondsman—gah, talk about words I never thought I’d say.
West and I are sipping our coffee in companionable silence when AJ and Brock join us. I try not to notice the pep in Brock’s step or my friend’s freshly fucked hair, but it’s no use.
Especially when Brock comes up behind her at the coffeepot and smacks her ass before nuzzling his face into her neck. “Love you, firecracker,” he murmurs before turning to address us. “Sleep well?”
West and I both nod and I add, “Definitely slept better on the futon than I would have on the floor.”
AJ quirks a brow. “The floor?”
I drop my gaze to my half-empty cup to try and hide my burning cheeks. “Uh, yeah. The cottage my grandparents are renting is like the size of your living room and kitchen combined.”
All three of them cringe. “Babe, that won’t work long-term,” AJ says, topping off my mug—God love her, she knows exactly how I like it: a one-to-one coffee and cream ratio to start, but only coffee on the refills.
I offer her a grateful smile and a shrug. “One day at a time, right?”
AJ drums her purple painted nails on the bar top. “You could stay here,” she says, but I don’t miss the look Brock sends her way. Truly, I can’t say I blame him; they’re basically still newlyweds, with only a year of marriage under their belt. If I were in their shoes, I wouldn’t want some freeloader crashing with me either.
“No, I couldn’t impose on y’all like that.”
She looks as though she wants to argue, but Brock sidles up behind her to whisper in her ear, a hand planted firmly on each of her hips, holding her body to his. The two of them are such a juxtaposition, what with his clean-cut, classic style and her currently teal-colored hair and a plethora of tattoos. Looking at them, you wouldn’t think they would work, but my God, they really do. Aside from my parents, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a couple more in love than they are.
“What…what are you gonna do then?” she asks.
I run my hands through my mostly dry hair. “I don’t know. Maybe find a cheap room to rent or something.”
This time it’s Brock bristling. “What if you end up living with a psychopath who wants to kill you, stretch your skin over your bones to make a canvas, and paint it with your blood?”
Well, that was vivid. I roll my lips inward in an attempt to contain my laughter, but it’s no use. A snort breaks free. “Dramatic, much? This is Cottonwood. I think the last murder here was like…a hundred years ago or some shit.”
“Actually, it was last year,” West offers, unhelpfully.
I pin him with a glare. “Regardless. That’s a chance I’ll have to take. Because, let me tell y’all, sleeping on the floor for…however long this shit takes…is not a viable option.”
“Oh!” AJ yells excitedly, bouncing on her toes. “Oh! I have a great idea!”
Something tells me this will not be a great idea.
“Let’s hear it,” I say, hesitantly.
“You could live with West!”
Chapter Six
West
“She could what now?” I ask, my gaze darting up to meet Abby Jane’s. Her deep brown eyes are full of mischief, and I don’t like it.
“Yes! It’s perfect, really.”
I shift uncomfortably on the barstool. “How do you figure?”
She bats her long lashes at me. “Well, now that Brock lives here, you’re all alone. Gosh, you have, what, three extra bedrooms?”