Winning my Best Friend's Girl - Piper Rayne Page 0,45
I have a feeling you’re not a cook?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re using a tiny frying pan and you’ve weaved the bacon so that it’s all going to stick together into one sheet.”
I step back to give him space because he’s right, I’m no cook. But then I wrap my arms around his back in a friendly hug, grateful he’s let me off the hook so easy and shared with me how he thinks Kingston views me.
“Thank you for understanding, Lou,” I whisper.
He shakes his head and his hand touches the one I have wrapped around him. “I’m not an asshole who chases what isn’t his. I just didn’t know how deep you two ran.”
I nod with my head on his back because he pinned it right. Kingston and I run so deep, I’m not sure either one of us will ever climb out of the hole we dug for ourselves, no matter how hard we try.
Kingston rounds the corner and freezes. I slide my hands back from around his best friend faster than a thief pickpocketing a wallet. But the quiet fury in Kingston’s eyes, says he saw.
“Hey, you two.” He replaces his scowl with a smile and walks all the way into the kitchen.
He isn’t wearing a T-shirt and my eyes are glued to his abs as if adhesive is binding them there.
“Hey, King. I’m making breakfast,” Lou says.
I clear my throat and grab my coffee. Kingston enters the small galley of the kitchen prep area and his hand lands on my hip, sliding me out of the way.
“Excuse me, Stella,” Kingston says as if he touches me every day. If he did, I’m sure there wouldn’t be a current circling the area he touched like a bullseye.
“Sure. How did you sleep?” I ask, doing my best to sound unaffected.
He pours his coffee, then opens the fridge and grabs the milk before tipping no more than a dash into the cup. Last night, he did most of the cooking, so he knows his way around the kitchen already, opening up a drawer and pulling out a spoon. “Great. How about you two?”
Instead of staying in his place, he squeezes by me again with his hand on my hip once more, except this time he winks. My stomach thinks we’re on a roller coaster. It can’t stop delving from the depths of anguish to the highs of exhilaration.
Kingston sits on a stool and sips his coffee without ever blowing into the cup.
“I slept good,” I say.
“Like a rock,” Lou adds, continuing to flip the bacon in a new frying pan. “What’s on your agenda today? Heli-skiing?”
Kingston looks at me and his gaze dips to my chest. I follow his vision to see I’m nipping like it’s forty below. I place the coffee mug on the counter and zip my hoodie shut. Kingston chuckles into his coffee.
Lou turns his attention to Kingston. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking about something from the other day.”
“What?” Lou asks.
I narrow my eyes at Kingston, and it spurs him to chuckle again. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s an inside joke.”
“I see how it is.” Lou pretends to be offended, then he hums a song I don’t recognize.
I lean forward to grab my book off the counter, figuring I’ll scatter to a secluded area of the house and enjoy my coffee since I’m not a breakfast person.
But Kingston snatches my book before I can grab it. “Whose is this?” He leans back and props a bare foot on the stool next to him.
Don’t ask me why I have a thing for feet, but I do. Kingston’s are corded with veins and each nail is trimmed like he just got a pedicure yesterday. It says something when a man takes care of his feet.
“It’s mine.” I reach for it again, but he raises it up higher. When I round the counter, he stands, putting his palm on my forehead as though I’m one of his sisters.
“Kingston.”
He holds the book in the air. “Is this what you’ve resorted to, Stella? Get this tagline, Lou… Who knew my brother’s friend could be Mr. Right, and not just Mr. Right Now?” He continues to read the rest of the blurb, giving him and Lou a good laugh.
Having a little bit of dignity left, I stop trying to reach for it and stand with my arms crossed.
“Enjoy your read.” Kingston winks again, and I want to staple his eyelid open.