I crack open my door and yawn, already clutching a trash bag. I keep them by the door now. I’ve got a system. I’m efficient.
As I step out, I lazily move around the drunks sprawled in the living room from last night’s party. I scoop up beer cans, snack wrappers, grab a few throw pillows off the floor, and carry whatever cups or dishes I can manage.
By the time I reach the kitchen, it’s the usual disaster zone.
Dishes piled high. Red solo cups and straws everywhere. Mixers sticky on the counter. Just pure chaos.
I drop everything off and finally head to the bathroom.
Just then, I catch Grayson — freaking shirtless — leaving the bathroom, towel slung low after a shower. I don’t know why, but my eyessnap to his hips. It feels wrong, so I gaze higher to his chest. But the guy is just too damn hot.
Don’t stare...
I hang my head.
He side-steps past me in the narrow hallway. Whatever cologne he put on makes me melt. Refreshing and spicy all at once.
“Mornin’, Piggy,” he says.
“It’s Charlotte,” I mumble.
“Right.” He stops mid-stride and turns around. “Like the pig in that book.”
“No. That book isCharlotte’s Web. She’s the spider,” I reply.
Dang, this guy is as stupid as Brax. No wonder they get along.
He doesn’t get defensive and attack like my brother would. He stares into my eyes, the hazel color flickering in challenge. “Yeah, that’s right. Babe was the pig. Bet you wish you had that nickname instead, huh?”
I flutter my eyes. “Uh.”
His big hand clutches my shoulder.
Butterflies shoot through me. He’s touching me. Theynevertouch me.
However, he squeezes, digging his thumb under my collarbone and hitting a nerve. I slink back and rub my shoulder.
“Ow!” I say in astonishment. “That freaking hurt!”
He chuckles, then bites his plump bottom lip, trying to restrain his smile. “They were right. You squeallike a pig.”
“Eh!”
Dang it!Why do I always—
Wait!
“You were talking about me?”
“Last night. About you and Atticus. I asked Brax which one of you is the dumb one.”
Oh, I hate this guy!
“Atticus has autism. He’s very smart.” I reach up, putting my finger in his face. “And if you bully him—”
“Easy, swine.” His smile sharpens. “Bite again and I’ll put a muzzle on you.”
I lower my hand and calm myself. “I’m just protective of him. Even though he’s almost eighteen, he needs help. Nobody helped me, but I can help him.”
