“BlackoutBomb.” Owen smiles as he rubs his eyes. They widen when he sees how I’m dressed and he looks shocked, then his expression morphs into confusion. “You and Elijah hooked up?”
It sounds more like an accusation than a question and I shake my head. His shoulders drop in relief, but then realization of what that means hits him as he looks past me to Butch’s door.
“You hooked up with our dad.” His mouth hangs open, but at least he doesn’t look mad. “He never brings chicks home. I was starting to think he’d never date.” He shakes his head and smiles.
“Bathroom?” I squeak, because what else do I say right now? I’m happy Butch doesn’t bring women home, but this is also a little awkward.
“Spare bathroom,” he says, pointing to another door. “There’s one in Dad’s room, too, but I guess he didn’t have time to give you a tour.” There’s laughter in his voice and I try not to cringe.
“Thanks,” is all I can manage to say as I dart into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I lean against it wondering if I just messed up. What if the boys aren’t supposed to know about me? Owen said he never saw his dad with a woman, so there has to be a reason for that. My mom never let me meet the people she dated either. Butch told me he doesn’t do random women and that there’s only me. I believe him because he isn’t the type of man to lie.
Is he going to be upset that I outed him to his kids? He might not do random women, but that doesn’t mean he wants his sons to know about this.
I know nothing about parenting and this could be something he wants to tell them on his own. One of them finding me dressed in his shirt in the middle of the night likely isn’t how he wanted this to go down. It doesn’t help that I’m about their age. I reason with myself that they aren’t his birth children, so maybe them being around my age isn’t that odd.
I don’t care what age he is or I am because we’re both are adults, but his sons might not feel the same way. Owen seemed pissed when he thought I’d been in Elijah’s room, but then it turned to shock when he realized I was with Butch. Afterwards he smirked about it, so I can’t help but wonder why me sleeping with his brother made him mad, but not with his dad.
I use the bathroom and when I’m finished I gasp as I look at myself. Not only did I run into Owen in the middle of the night wearing Butch’s shirt, but it’s easy to see I’ve been having sex all night.
I do the best I can to try and tame my hair without a brush. Butch’s shirt is longer than the dress I had on last night, so I think it’s okay to walk around the house in it. There’s no option at this point because I don’t know where my dress is to put it back on.
When I open the door, Owen is standing there with Elijah beside him. They stop whispering and turn to me and it’s then I notice they’re both only in sweatpants and not wearing shirts. They’re fit and I recall Butch mentioning something about them playing sports. I’m sure most everyone would find them attractive, but there’s nothing there for me. Butch is the only person who has ever snagged my attention and I think it’s because he calls to something deep inside of me. He sees a need in me I didn’t know was there until he brought it to the surface.
“I still can’t believe it and I’m looking right at her.” Elijah shakes his head. “It does make sense why he was getting so pissy the other night though.” He smiles the same as Owen did when he realized I’m here with Butch.
“Hey.” I give a small wave and it’s awkward because I don’t know what to do right now. If Butch and I keep going like we are, would they be my stepsons? That sounds so ridiculous in my head. “So.” I look toward Butch’s door and pointedly back at them. They’re blocking the hallway and I need them to move so I can get back to Butch’s bedroom.
“You hungry?” Elijah asks me.
“We can make a pizza and play Call of Duty.” Owen quickly adds, and I laugh.
I guess I’m making it a bigger deal in my head than it is because they seem to be okay with it.
“I could eat,” I admit as my stomach rumbles. Butch and I never did get around to dinner last night. Unless you count eating each other.
“I’ll heat up the oven,” Elijah says, walking past me.