Page 61 of Boys of Brayshaw High (Brayshaw High 1)
“Well, your own thing was stupid.”
“Hey. They’re not my enemies, they’re yours.” I grow defensive and when his head snaps my way, mine follows.
“Our enemies are your enemies.”
“Says fucking who?”
Before he can answer, Maddoc steps out on the deck, his shirt still off despite the chill, and I lose my train of thought.
His torso, God ... so long and strong. Deep cut ridges meet at the center and spread out across his ribs, but those damn hip bones are what have me stuck. Every damn time.
“Says you.”
When he speaks my gaze flies to his, and a cocky gleam shines back.
I can’t say I hate this playful side he’s giving glimpses of.
“And us. You’re Brayshaw whether you want to be or not, because we said. Your actions only solidify it to outside eyes.”
There we go, that’s more like the big man.
I roll my eyes.
Captain joins us then, lifting his coffee cup in thanks. “It’s true, Raven. You publicly chose us on more than one occasion.”
“I only did what anybody would do.”
I look between the three and grow self-conscious as their facial expressions shift from angrily irritated to ... more. Frownless.
“What?” I snap, setting my mug down and jumping to my feet.
Captain, the nurturer, takes my vacated spot beside Royce and Maddoc steps forward. “That’s where you’re wrong. Nobody in our world helps because they want to. There’s always a reason. We talked about this already.”
“Well, I didn’t have a reason.”
This time when I look between the three, they’re grinning. I mean, Maddoc more drops his stare to the old wood beneath him, but the other two definitely grin and I shift on my feet.
Royce sets his cup down and then hauls himself at me. Laughing, he wraps himself around my back and lifts me off the floor with a tight squeeze. “That’s the point, RaeRae. You’ve got something we wanna figure out,” he teases in a purposely dirty voice.
Maddoc smacks the back of Royce’s head, and he releases me with a laugh.
I shove him farther away, but can’t completely keep the smile at bay so I quickly grab my cup and dip back inside.
I’m pouring a refill when Maddoc’s chest hits my back.
For a moment, he just stands there, his hot breath to my neck causing goose bumps on my skin and a heavy beating in my chest.
“What?” I ask, a little breathier than I wanted.
“You know what...” he whispers slowly. “You left me in bed today.”
“I woke up. You didn’t.”
And I needed some air because my lungs were full of citrus and pine, full of Maddoc.
“Right,” he murmurs. “And yesterday, you left my bed when I told you I’d be back. That meant stay put. You didn’t.”
I curl my toes to keep myself from fidgeting. “Maybe next time say what you mean instead?”
“I’m guessing it would have made no difference.” His hand comes up and my eyes follow as he grips my hair, pulling it behind me. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re right.” I clear my throat and reach for the creamer, but he snags it before I can, so I finally spin to face him.
He smirks and makes quick work of setting the creamer bottle beside us and lifts me onto the countertop.
My eyes widen.
Okay, we’re doing this whole flirty thing. Not good since I can’t quite think straight this early ... and having six-foot-something of solid man meat in front of me isn’t helping. Even sitting here like this, I still have to tip my head back to fully look at him.
Pouty lips, high cheek bones and wild ass green eyes, emerald in color at the moment. Thick, dark lashes and darker brows.
He’s a good-looking bastard.
There’s that smirk again...
He hands me my steaming cup of coffee and lifts the plastic Coffee-mate jug, pouring it in until I tell him to stop.
He frowns at it. “Can you even call that coffee?”
“It’s my version of half and half. Half coffee, half the goods. We can’t all shoot shit straight like you, big man.”
He stares at me, so I take a drink and look off before meeting his eyes again.
“What?”
“You slept.”
When my brows pull in, he shifts closer, tipping his head back a bit.
“Without your knife, Raven. You slept, sound a-fucking-sleep, without your security.”
“I was tired.”
He smirks and steps back. “Right.”
Right. Right?
“Stop looking at me like that,” I snap when my stomach starts to feel knotted.
“Like what?”
“Like you know me. You don’t, and you shouldn’t try to.” I slide down and make my way into the living room in hopes of settling the rattled feeling I’ve got going on right as the others come inside.
I don’t want to be understood, just as much as I can’t afford to let anyone in.
I want to be able to walk away when I’m ready.
I look back to Maddoc who now leans against the counter staring after me.
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