I pull the door open and see three women standing there. Their heads all swivel toward me, and then their eyes move from the top of my head to my toes, and right back up again. They’re totally in sync, and I wonder if they practice this shit at home.
The heavily pregnant one pokes at my chest.
“Oh my god. He’s real,” she whispers, and all of their eyes widen.
“Elliot!” the brown-haired one squeals and pushes her way past the pregnant one. “Who is this fine specimen? And why did we not know about him? You’ve been keeping secrets, brother. We made a pact, and you broke it. We always keep one another in the loop, no matter what. Does our group chat mean nothing to you?”
I turn my head and see Elliot pouring himself a large glass of wine. It’s not even nine o’clock in the morning.
“Let us in, you goddamn miracle,” the third woman with short hair says and pushes her way past me, brushing against me. I flex to make it more enjoyable for her.
“Oh, a morning drink,” the pregnant woman says. “Pity I can’t have one.” She opens the fridge and peers inside as the other two come to stand near Elliot.
“You’re early,” Elliot mutters, taking a large sip of wine. “Why can’t you be late like normal people?”
“You are such a boob, El. We’re on time. It was in ourgroup chat,” the pregnant one says.
Elliot frowns when the brown-haired woman grabs the glass from Elliot’s hand and downs it.
She sputters and coughs. “Jesus. That’s cheap-ass wine. You’ve got money, El. At least buy something that doesn’t come in a box.”
Elliot glowers, and then all of the women turn to look at me once more.
“And what is your name, handsome?” the pregnant one asks.
“Luke,” I say with a grin and give a half bow.
The women smile widely, and then the pregnant woman walks up to me, holding out a hand. “I’m Eliza. This is Jane,” she gestures to the brown-haired woman who just waves, pouring herself another glass of wine. “And that’s Kate,” she says, pointing to the short-haired woman gaping at me.
“We’re Elliot’s sisters,” Eliza explains.
“Is that so,” I say, looking over at Elliot, who is looking everywhere but at me.
“And you are?” Eliza says.
“I’m Eli’s best friend.”
“He’snotmy friend. I barely know the man,” Elliot interjects.
I roll my eyes. “Nah, we spent the night together. So, we’re probably more like lovers.”
Eliza squeals, and Jane chokes on her drink, some of it dribbling down her chin.
“We are not lovers,” Elliot bites out, and Kate squeaks. “I repeat.Not. Lovers.”
“El, you haven’t had a lover in years. Ever since––”
“He’s not my lover. Jesus. Who even calls it that anymore?” Elliot sends me a glare, and he points to the bedroom.
“I need to speak to you.”
I waggle my eyebrows at Elliot’s sisters, and they all squeal in unison as I follow Elliot down the hallway and into his bedroom.
He fists my shirt and roughly tugs me inside and shuts the door, locking it. Fuck, he’s strong. Fixing my rumpled shirt, I glance around the space and whistle. Looks like a prince sleeps here. A fancy interior designer probably came in and picked out pillows and shit.
“You make your bed?” I ask.
“Of course, I do. I’m not a barbarian. And I assume, by just looking at you, that you do not.”