I turn off the water, grab my cell, and flip off the light. Walking back into her bedroom, I pull my jeans on and make my way downstairs to get a glass of milk. It just sounds good right now, but I stop when I get to the last step. I see a figure in the entryway, so I reach over and flip on the light.
“Shit!” Ethan all but shouts, jumping back from the front door.
“Keep it down. Your sister is asleep,” I tell him.
He runs a hand over his mop of hair. I swear the kid never brushes it.
“About time you two stopped fucking,” he says with disgust.
I take a step toward him and he throws up his hands like I’m about to punch his lights out. He’s not far off.
“I’m leaving,” he rushes out. “I was on my way out.”
“Where the fuck you going this late?” I ask.
He squares his shoulders, shoving his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. Why the fuck is he wearing that? It’s not even cold outside. “Just because you’re fucking my sister, doesn’t mean I have to tell you shit.” He spins around, yanks open the front door and slams it shut.
_______________
“Babe?” I say, running my knuckles down the side of her face.
“Hmm?” she mumbles, her eyes opening and then closing again.
“I’m leaving,” I say, straightening and placing my watch on my wrist. I’m already fucking late for work. Like I am every fucking day. I didn’t set my alarm last night.
“It’s Saturday.” She stretches under the covers.
“I know.” Kingdom never sleeps. It’s why we choose to live there rather than our homes that we built.
“Stay with me.” Her eyes open fully, and she reaches out to me.
“I can’t.” Even though I want nothing more in this world than to crawl back in bed with her.
She sits up, the covers falling to her waist, exposing her bare chest to me. She arches a brow and licks her lips. “Are you sure?” Her hands reach out and grab my dick through my jeans.
I growl and jump onto the bed, pinning her down to it as I hover above. “I have to go, but I’m free tonight.”
“Early enough to do dinner?”
I lower my head and kiss her neck. “As long as you promise to be my dessert.”
“Promise?” She pants, arching her hips to meet mine.
I groan and push mine into hers so she can feel how hard I am. I’ve never known what struggle was until I met her. “Promise.” I pull away and crawl off her. “Now go back to sleep.” I kiss her forehead, and she rolls over, giving me her back with a sigh.
I grab my cell off her nightstand and exit her room, closing the door behind me. I make my way down the steps and to the front door. I see my bag still lying in the entryway where April dropped it last night. I pick it up and walk out to my car. Throwing it into my passenger seat, I pause before I start my car and look over at it.
This is the first time in a long time that I haven’t woken up feeling like shit. Hungover or still high. I unzip the side pocket of the bag and reach inside to remove the pill bottle.
“What the …?” I bring it onto my lap and look inside it. It’s empty. I had a pill bottle there last night, and it was full. Where the fuck did it go?
I had it upstairs at the Airport, and then when I showered … someone was in my bag. The question is, who the fuck was it? It was there when I left. I had checked it. Then I came to April’s. She never got into it. We had sex, and her drunk ass passed out. Then Lucy messaged me. I went downstairs … Ethan. It had to have been him. He was standing in the entryway and was spooked when I turned on the lights. His hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He was hiding my pills from me so I wouldn’t catch him. He was leaving so he could go take them.
Motherfucker!
APRIL
I stand behind the counter, going through emails on my phone. Roses opens in two days but after Grave left my house this morning, I decided to get up and do a few last-minute things up here. The bell rings, signaling a customer has entered, and I look up in a panic that I forget to lock the door behind me.
“We’re closed.” I exit out of my email and open my call history, my finger hovering over Grave’s name.
“Hi.” The man waves as he steps inside, letting the door shut behind him.
“I’m sorry, but we’re closed,” I repeat, my thumb ready to call him. The guy is dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a white T-shirt that has a red Corvette on the front. His dark eyes look around, and he nods in approval when he gets to the vases on the shelves.