Page 16 of Surviving Slater

"Just the way you like it," Sin said as he handed me a steaming cup.

"Thanks," I said, taking it from him carefully.

Matthew walked in, wearing a shirt and shorts. His hair was disheveled.

"Where's mine?" he asked Sin with a sleepy frown.

"You're not pretty enough for me to make you coffee," Sin shot back without even making eye contact. He stirred the coffee.

I smiled. It was always fun to watch the two of them go at it.

Matthew sulked and looked in my direction for support.

"Nope," I said, holding my hand out to him. "I'm not getting involved. I'm Switzerland."

"I'll remember this the next time you need a favor," Matthew said, trying to blackmail me, but I was already out of the kitchen.

I found Taylor seated on the sofa.

"Morning," I said.

"Hey," she said before she suppressed a yawn.

I sat down beside her.

"You didn't sleep, did you?" I asked, studying the dark rings under her eyes.

"I'm trying," she said. "It's going to take time."

"I know," I replied, setting my cup down on the coffee table.

I reached over to give her a hug. I hated that there was an aftereffect from the attack that she was still struggling with.

Just as I pulled away, Sin appeared with their coffee. He frowned as he took in our interaction.

"You okay?" he asked Taylor. She nodded and reached for her mug.

"Yes." She smiled up at him, and his frown eased. It was so easy to see what they shared. It was in the way they looked at each other, like no one else existed.

Chapter Five

My last classfor the day finished. I breathed a heavy sigh as I closed my book and began to clear my stuff from my desk. I squinted at the sun as I exited the classroom.

When I refocused, I saw Slater leaning against the wall. The sight of him sped up my heart and I felt a shortness of breath. Was he there to meet someone?

His eyes met mine, a familiar flutter of awareness sweeping through me. His worn jeans and fitted white shirt only enhanced his magnetism. There was something sexy and intimidating about the way he watched me. He pushed off the wall and headed to me. I clutched my bag more tightly in my hand, feeling a nervous dip in my stomach as he approached.

"Jordan," he said, and I had to stop the effect of hearing my name on his lips.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, cutting the pleasantries.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said, his eyes still on me.

I tried to remain outwardly calm in his presence, when my insides were swirling around like a tornado.

"I'm not sure we have anything to say to each other."

His silvery pale-blue eyes were intense. "Yes, we do."