I glance around the kitchen remembering when Della and the guys first moved in here. It had been bare except for a table and a toaster and some cutlery. Now it’s filled with furniture, pictures, bookshelves and many more things that make this house feel like a home.
I finish my last slice of toast and take my plate to the sink, placing it on the side, where all the morning’s dishes have piled up. Turning around quickly, eager to head back up to my holding room, I smack straight into a damp, bare chest.
My palms are met with solid, defined abs. I blink once, then twice as I inhale sharply from the wondrous sight in front of me. A large chest covered in beautiful intricate tattoos, all in classic shadings of black, white and gray. Words across a hip, just above a pair of dark sweatpants garner my attention. ‘You don’t know what you’re alive for until you know what you would die for.’ The black calligraphy is wrapped around the word ‘family’ which is shaded in gray. It’s one of the most beautiful tattoos I’ve ever seen.
My eyes swiftly rise to identify who I’m looking at. Mackson. My gaze lands directly on irises the color of soil with speckles of gold throughout them, eyes I memorized over a decade ago and still couldn’t forget, even in my dreams. The carnal intensity swirling in Mack’s stare causes my heart to race and my skin flushes as if the lick of heat from a fire is nearby.
My breathing becomes erratic and in an attempt to get a hold of my senses I take a quick step back, except my body is met with the kitchen bench. Mack takes that same step forward, plus a bit extra, and suddenly every inch of his body is pressed up against mine.
I exhale in a rush from the shock of intimacy Mack is creating between us. What is he doing? Do I care about the why? No, I don’t, the touch of his skin and the smell of the soap that’s coming from his freshly showered body is all I can think about right now.
My eyes lock with Mack’s. I’m searching for his next move. Should I make it or let him continue to lead? His stare gives nothing away and my hands ache to explore his body, from the tips of my fingers down to my toes, my body tingles with anticipation. Swiftly every tingle and ache dissolves as Mack shoves a piece of French toast into his mouth, steps back, looks at me blankly and then walks out of the kitchen without a word.
I glance behind me to see the plate Pacer filled with toast for us all. Heat rises up my neck and my heart beats rapidly against my chest as embarrassment engulfs me.
That asshole. He knew exactly what he was doing.
I walk swiftly out of the kitchen, wanting… no, needing a shower to wash away my humiliation. I pass the living room, but don’t look to see who’s in there until I’m halfway up the stairs and I peer into the room and find Piper and Slater talking to Mack. I don’t spare a smile for Piper, who looks my way, all I can bear at the moment is a death stare aimed straight at Mack’s back.
Argh. I hate him.
After a long cold shower, I rummage through Della’s drawers and pull out some clean underwear and a pair of black shorts with a matching T-shirt, which has a blue skull on the front. I love the top.
I find myself staring out the same window I tried to escape through yesterday. Mack’s words that I would be killed were a bit overdramatic. Yes, a fall from here would hurt like a bitch, but I’d survive.
I jump and yelp when the bedroom door flies open, feeling as if I have been caught doing something wrong.
It’s Pacer at the door, first staring at me shocked and next he laughs out loud. “Am I really that scary?” He breathes on his hand and then sniffs his hand. “Or is it my breath?”
Mack arrives at my door, fully dressed this time, body tense and eyes darting around wildly, appearing as if he’s ready for battle just as I giggle at Pacer.
Pacer pats Mack on the shoulder. “All good brother, it was just me. I should’ve knocked before opening the door.”
Mack shrugs stiffly and then leaves just as quickly as he appeared.
“If I were a nosey man,