My mouth was still open when Silas disappeared into the house. The thought of Silas fucking Beth made my stomach turn and my skin crawl.
“What the fuck was she doing here?”
“Beats me.” Spencer stretched out flat on the patio couch, arms up, covering his face from the morning sun. “So, you and Noah.”
“What about us?”
“Anything happen between you two?”
“I’d say that’s none of your business.” I shifted in my seat.
“I’ll take that as a yes then.”
“Don’t take it as anything.”
He peeked from under his elbow. “You seem really agitated for someone who got laid last night.”
“Who said I got laid?”
He snorted, then buried his face in his arm again. “Your hair says it all.”
I blew a curl from my face, slumping down in the chair, sitting like a real fucking lady. Not. “It’s complicated. Noah is…complicated.”
“Makes sense. Probably PTSD or something.”
“PTSD?”
“You know, from being a marine. Those guys see things people should never see.”
I righted myself. “A marine?”
This time Spencer sat up, frowning. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Well,” my cheeks burned, “we didn’t exactly talk.”
“You know Dad is going to flip the fuck out when he finds out about you and his newly hired handyman?”
“Oh, please. That would mean that he actually gave a shit about me.” I relaxed back in my seat. “All he cares about is his new bride and her unicorn pussy she controls him with. He might as well walk around on a fucking leash at her side.”
“Okay, firstly,” he got up, “Dad cares, even if he seems distant lately. Secondly, don’t ever mention that woman’s…” he shivered, unable to say the word. “Just. Don’t. And thirdly, I could have gone my entire life without imagining Dad on a leash, naked. Jesus.” He turned and headed into the house.
“Who said anything about Dad being naked?”
“Stop. My God.”
“You came up with that all by yourself.”
He shot me the finger over his shoulder.
“I got the middle finger from both my brothers.” I straightened. “I guess my work here is done, too,” I muttered to myself, heading inside to take a desperately needed shower.
The house was a mess; broken glass, beer stains, and passed-out guests were still lying around. I made a mental note to lock myself in my room and pretend like I wasn’t here to avoid becoming a clean-up crew member. There was nothing worse than that sour wine stench of alcohol on a hungover stomach the next morning.
Of course, once I walked into my bedroom, I was met with the reality that Murphy wasn’t done fucking with me yet.
“Please explain to me what the fuck you’re doing in my room…yet again?”
Oakley rolled on his side, rubbing his eyes with his palms as he woke. In my bed. Naked.