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He glances down at my very dressed self, jaw working, then toward the sofa where Jet is now sitting up, giving us a dazed look, his hair sticking out in one side. He looks so cute like that. And hot.
And dressed from head to toe.
“You’re sick, dickhead?” Joel mutters, the tension seeping out of his tall body. “Coming down with something?”
“He said he had a bad headache,” I reply, before Jet opens his mouth. “He was dizzy. He said he hit his head yesterday.”
Jethro grunts and rubs a hand over his mouth.
“Fuck.” Joel drags me back to the couch and pushes me down to sit, then sinks down on his heels in front of Jethro. “Hey, Jet.”
“What’s up, mate?” Those pretty dark eyes are hooded, hazy.
“How you feeling?”
“Been better.”
“That was a good hit, huh? Nearly cracked your thick skull?”
Jethro grins faintly, crookedly. “You wish.”
“Have you eaten today?”
Jethro shrugs, mouth twisting.
I realize I’m holding my breath. It’s so… intimate, the way they interact, the way the one cares for the other. Makes me feel like an intruder. Like the third wheel, even if what they have doesn’t seem sexual.
“I’ll make us something to eat,” Joel says, still making no move to get up, his hands resting on Jethro’s knees.
“Something with bananas in it?” Jethro asks, his voice holding laughter, and God, I should go. Now Joel is back, I’m not needed. Jet will be fine.
But the moment I start getting up, Joel stops me with a hand on my leg—the exact moment Jet throws an arm around my shoulders.
“Pancakes,” Joel says firmly. “With chocolate syrup and bananas. What do you think, Candy?”
My stomach gurgles, and I duck my head. “Yeah. Sounds great. But you guys—”
“Then it’s set,” Joel says and stands up.
“Don’t you guys want to talk and eat and rest—”
“Stay,” Jethro says, and I dip my chin.
Why can’t I ever say no to him?
“Then I’ll help,” I declare and scramble to my feet. “With the cooking. And everything.”
Jet huffs and lies back, stretching his arms over his head, and my gaze snags on his bare midriff and the thin trail of hair leading into his waistband.
Hey, I’m human. Can’t help it.
“Right this way, then,” Joel says, giving me his blinding smile, flashing that dimple, and I follow h
im to the kitchen like a puppy.
Oh God, is this normal? Despite my years of drooling after these two guys and building a whole fantasy world with them for everyone to read on my blog, can I really be equally attracted to both of them—and not just that, but falling for them hook, line and sinker?
***
