Four Letter Word

Page 73

He lowered his hands.

Silence settled between us.

Jamie wasn’t going to give me this. He didn’t understand. I could tell by the look on his face.

I shook my head through an inhale, jaw tight and shoulders tensing.

“Forget it,” I mumbled, moving back to the stove with heavy steps. “I’ll figure something else out.”

What the fuck that was gonna be, I had no idea. Last night this seemed like my only option.

I stared down at the pan, hands braced on either side of the stove and head down.

Maybe I could sell everything I had. Might get a little over ten grand for my Jeep. Not as much as selling my share of Wax, but it was better than nothing. I could take the bus or bum rides, that or walk everywhere. Getting the exercise wouldn’t hurt.

“I’ll do it.”

I slowly lifted my head and turned my neck.

Jamie held my eyes when he said, “I’ll buy you out. Get the figure and let me know.”

Tension poured out of my limbs. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, man. Seriously. Means a lot,” I told him, straightening my back.

He nodded once, twisted to grab his mug, then took a sip.

I could get in touch with our accountant today, no problem. The guy worked seven days a week. As for Xstasy, that shit could be handled with a simple text. I’d get on that as soon as I got Syd back home in case Mike decided to be one dumb motherfucker and call me to discuss.

There would be no discussion.

And this was going to work out.

Thank fuck.

“But your name is staying on all the promotional shit. I don’t care if you want it removed, it’s not happening,” Jamie informed as I was clicking the burner on. “It would be a pain in my ass getting it changed so deal with it.”

I kept my head down and focused.

“I’m good with that,” I said through a smirk.

“Not asking your permission,” he replied shortly under his breath.

My smirk twisted into a smile.

I was feeling good again.

We talked more about the party and some work shit while I cooked the eggs. I was on my second cup of coffee, keeping the food warm in the oven, when I heard quiet footsteps on the stairs and I stopped listening to Jamie, turned my head, and watched Syd step with sleepy eyes and finger-twisted hair into the room wearing nothing but the shirt I was wearing yesterday.

I’m sure she looked slamming in a lot of things, but that might’ve been a top look for me.

She froze, bare feet and pale limbs pressing together and her hands tugging on the hem of my tee, which was funny since it almost reached her knees hanging loose.

“Mornin’, Wild.”

I smiled at her, sat my mug down, then made my way across the room.

Her eyes danced between me and Jamie.

“Uh, mornin’.” She settled on me. “Should I go put something on?” she whispered when I reached her.

“No. You look sweet,” I said, bending to kiss her mouth.

She broke it fast and shyly, explaining, “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“And?”

“My breath isn’t kissable right now. You’ll keel over.”

Her one hand acted like a barrier between our lips as she blinked up at me.

I laughed and kissed her forehead instead, which she allowed and seemed to enjoy, moaning quietly as I did it, then tucking close when I draped my arm around her and moved us back into the kitchen.

Jamie smiled at Syd, lifting his mug.

“What’s up, Sunshine? Sleep good?”

I looked down and watched my girl shoot daggers at Jamie.

Right. Legs.

Syd had her girl’s back.

“You got a problem?” Jamie asked with humor in his voice.

“Nope,” Syd snapped, looking away sharply, making her point known that she did indeed have a problem, possibly several, but she wasn’t interested in hashing it out right now.

Her attitude was another cute thing about her.

Jamie didn’t seem to care. He laughed under his breath while pouring himself a second cup of coffee, then moved to the pantry next to the fridge, pulled out a pack of Pop-Tarts, closed the door, and turned, winking at Syd as he walked around the island.

“Gotta head upstairs and wake up my guests,” he said on his way out of the room. “Ten o’clock is checkout.”

Sydney made a soft grunting noise.

“That’s disgusting,” she commented quietly when we were alone. “I can’t believe not one but three women wanted to have sex with him. They must’ve been paid off.”

“Probably an easy transaction, considering the one bank account.”

She tilted her head adorably and gazed up at me.

“Mm?”

I smiled, choosing not to elaborate, then turned into her, grabbed her waist, and lifted, hoisting her up onto the island and pushing her knees apart, shoving between them.

“You hungry?” I asked, lips moving over her cheek.

I felt her nod.

“Eggs?”

“Yummy,” she replied softly.

“Bacon?”

“Oh, my God, yes!” she whispered excitedly. “I knew I smelled bacon.”

I leaned back, grinning.

She was all dimples and bright eager eyes with fingers dancing on my neck.

“Get you set up.”

“Okay.”

I left her on the counter to pull the plates out of the oven, grabbed some forks, napkins, an extra plate, asked if she wanted ketchup or anything for her eggs and laughed at the face she gave me, nose wrinkling in disgust, then moved back to the island and set everything beside her hip, handed her a fork and the extra plate which she set aside, we were sharing, then gripping my own fork and digging into the eggs while she went straight for the bacon.

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