Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
“And now it’s getting awkward,” I say with a stiff smile.
Hemi coughs into her elbow.
“I’ve already ordered you an Uber. Just give them an address. Thanks for a fun night.” Flip ushers her to the door—he’s now wearing shorts, thankfully—and follows her into the hall.
The door closes behind him.
“That was entertaining,” Tristan says.
“Zip it, Stiles. People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. You’re as bad as he is. See the video that was posted a few days ago for details,” Hemi snaps.
“There were shots involved.”
“I know. You were consuming them out of a woman’s orifice for the world to see.”
I choke on my coffee.
Tristan throws his hands in the air. “It was her navel! You make it sound like I was sucking vodka out of her pussy!”
“How do we know you weren’t? Being his wingman makes you as bad as he is. You don’t just condone the behavior, Tristan. You engage in debauchery with him.” She struts to the side table, picks up the tray of coffees, and brings them to the island, passing me one. “This was for Phillip, but since he can’t respect my time, it’s yours. It’s one of those caramel things, so it’s heavy on the sugar.”
“At this point I’d drink it out of spite, but I actually like those.” I pry the lid off and pour it into my half-empty coffee mug. It’s like a bowl, so the entire cup fits, but I leave a few mouthfuls behind. Enough that Flip can have a taste of what he’s missing for being such a player.
Flip knocks on the front door. Tristan takes a step toward it, but Hemi points a finger at him. “Don’t you dare.” She makes Flip knock twice more before she opens it herself.
When Hemi finally swings it wide, she makes a face. “Oh, God, you smell like used condoms and ass.”
“Sounds about right,” Flip says with a grin. “She was fun.”
“Seriously, man, Beat is right here.” Tristan points at me with both arms.
I don’t understand why he would insult me one second and defend me the next.
“She doesn’t care. Right, Rix?” Flip says.
I sip his delicious coffee, which I would not be drinking if he hadn’t said yes to me crashing here. I still needle him though. “I guess as long as you don’t get on my case when I bring a guy back here and have excessively loud sex, it’s fine.”
Tristan’s head snaps in my direction. I avoid looking at him. I don’t want to see his reaction.
Flip wrinkles his nose. “You can’t bring guys back here.”
“Why not?” I wouldn’t bring a guy here for many reasons, but my brother doesn’t need to know that.
He motions to the loft. “You don’t have a door. Or walls.”
“I’m super aware, thanks. And as nice as it was for you to put up a curtain, it’s not soundproof.” I motion to the hanging duvet.
“I didn’t do that,” Flip says.
Tristan is suddenly busy looking for a coffee mug, despite the cup Hemi brought him.
“Oh.” I didn’t expect that, especially not with all the shot-taking this morning. “Thanks?”
“It’s as much for me as it is for you.” And he’s back to looking annoyed.
“Phillip, please do us all a favor and shower and change. We need to discuss how to save your endorsement campaign with milk.”
“Wait, what?”
“They aren’t in love with your reputation right now, and frankly, neither am I.” She points at the bathroom.
He trudges past her and disappears inside, closing the door.
“Are you hungry, Hemi? I was about to make breakfast hash,” I offer.
“Breakfast hash? What’s that?”
“Shredded potatoes, chopped peppers and onions, sausage, ham, and bacon, and it’s topped with two eggs any style, shredded cheese if you like, and fresh chopped tomatoes.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Tristan, if you can be nice for twenty minutes, I’ll even feed your surly ass.” Even if the curtain was more for him than me, it was still nice, and I am staying in his place. This is my way of showing gratitude.
He nods. “I’ll try my best.”
“Let’s hope it’s good enough.” I pull ingredients from the fridge. I chopped and prepared most of it yesterday so it would be easy to throw together this morning. And I already made a fruit platter because my brother’s typical breakfast seems to be sugary cereal.
By the time Flip is done with his shower, the hash is nearly ready. I crack the eggs into the pan, letting them fry while I plate the hash, sprinkle it with shredded cheddar, and top it with eggs and chopped tomatoes.
“Damn, it smells good in here.” Flip peers over my shoulder. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Grandma Madden’s breakfast hash.”
“I haven’t had this in years. Thanks, Rix.” He gives me a side hug.
I smile. “I enjoy cooking for other people. It’s kind of my happy place.” I set the fruit platter on the table, and everyone digs in.