Page 6 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

And I had come prepared. I walked toward the fridge and pulled the six-pack of Diet Coke from the tote bag. I knew Melody would make sure she was stocked up for me, but a girl did not leave something as important as Diet Coke to chance. What if my ride would have been stuck in traffic? What if we would have been in an accident and stranded for hours?

I did not take those kinds of risks.

The fridge was two feet in front of me, but I couldn’t get to it. Why?

Because over six feet of glowering man candy was blocking it. I stared at him. The universal signal to move your ass.

He didn’t move. He just looked at me impassively.

“Excuse me,” I said, my voice saccharine sweet.

Nothing. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.

“Bancroft, you’re in the way.”

One eyebrow rose in that infuriatingly aristocratic way that made me hate him even more. Like I was a peasant who’d just had the audacity to address the king without permission.

“You’re old enough to have manners,” he said, his voice clipped and cold.

Oh, he wants to go there?

“And you’re old enough to have better self-awareness,” I shot back. “Move when you’re an inconvenience. Or is that too complicated a concept? Must be all that thin air up there making you dumb.”

I let my gaze travel pointedly upward, emphasizing his ridiculous height.

His jaw tightened, and I could literally see the muscles jump beneath his skin. God, even his jaw was attractive. It was offensive how attractive he was. The man won the genetic lottery and decided to use his powers for evil—specifically, the evil of being a massive pain in my ass.

“I’m not in your way,” he said, each word precisely enunciated. “The refrigerator is large enough for both of us to access it simultaneously.”

“Oh, simultaneously? Big word for you, Bancroft. Did you learn that in one of your spreadsheets? Or maybe it was on your Word of the Day calendar? Congratulations on your expanding vocabulary.”

I waited for his sharp retort. It didn’t come.

That was the thing with guys like him. He didn’t have to say shit. He could just give you that look. The look that said you were nothing more than one of those annoying stink bugs. Or a cockroach.

He stepped aside with exaggerated, mocking courtesy, gesturing to the fridge like he really was Lurch. “By all means.”

I yanked open the fridge door, very aware that he was still standing there, watching me. The cold air from the fridge did nothing to cool the weird heat that crept up the back of my neck. This must be what it felt like when Satan himself was staring at you.

I grabbed a can, cracked it open, and took a long, deeply satisfying sip. The carbonation burned perfectly. I let out a small, involuntary sigh of happiness.

“You know that stuff is terrible for you,” Cash said.

I lowered the can and looked at him. “You know being a judgmental ass is terrible for your social life, but here we are.”

He almost smiled. I saw it in the corner of his mouth, the tiniest twitch that suggested maybe, possibly, he was not entirely made of ice and bad vibes.

I stared across the kitchen at Austin and Melody. Melody’s hand rested on Austin’s arm, both of them wearing expressions that could only be described as secretive. They kept glancing at each other, these little looks that said they were about to drop a bombshell.

Cash stood beside me, sipping his beer and watching his brother. “Something is up,” Cash said, his voice low and serious.

I took another sip of my Diet Coke, using the moment to gather my thoughts. I hated that I was about to agree with him. Hated it with every fiber of my being. But I couldn’t deny what was right in front of me.

“I hate to agree with you, Bancroft.” I paused, letting the words hang in the air between us. “But I think you’re right.”

CHAPTER 3

CASH