Cold Silk

11. Charlotte

RADIO SILENCE

Mother loving douchecanoes. Why is my life like this?

I woke to Maze's singing the next day. The sweet smell of coffee and bacon cooking in the tiny kitchen roused me further. I blinked the blurriness away and threw off the throw blanket covering me. Flopping onto the ground with a thump and twisting my body into a pushup position next to the couch I'd slept on, I pushed away from the fog of sleep with two fists and straining muscle.

The noises in the kitchen stopped abruptly as Maze turned the small corner, watching me with a smirk implanted in her cocoa features.

"Whoa there, G.I. Jane, slow your roll. We'll work out soon. Maybe." She laughed, strolling in and setting a cup in front of my face as I continued with my routine. A smirk pulled at my lips at her lame-ass joke.

"The best way to start the day is to get the blood pumping," I breathed. "Or to hit something. You're next if you keep singing Mila." She knew about my issues. She knew that I fucking hated waking up to that shit, knew why and she still did it anyway.

I looked up, and she had the grace to look sheepish. I narrowed my eyes and picked up the tempo, adding a slight jump and clapping while midair, not buying a second of her bullshit.

"Damn girl, are you sure you're female? And I dis-a-fucking-gree;" she stated, flipping her fingered curls over her shoulder. "Sex is the best way to start your day, but since we're both two clamshells stuck in the mud, that ain't fucking happening."

I laughed, rolling onto my back to start toe touches. Fortunately, my tank was tight enough my breasts didn't spill out. But honestly, I don't care much if they do.

Mila Avery Zane Easton, Maze as most people called her, has seen me naked more times than I can count, and a little nip slip isn't going to hurt anyone. That and my pink princess curtains cover any indecencies that may or may not happen in my small living area from the outside world.

Mabel had been shocked when I chose them; Damien had laughed his ass off, and Maze had rolled her eyes when she saw.

Typical. I've yet to find something she finds scandalous or weird.

Yet.

"I made breakfast!" Maze announced, sauntering her way back into the kitchen. The short satin robe she wore slipped off her shoulders, showing off her bright pink cami top that contrasted her skin nicely.

I chuckled. She's going to haaate me.

"We're going for a run this morning."

"The fuck we are!"

I stopped mid-sit-up, holding my body in a v shape and clenching my abs as I tried not to laugh.

"Mabel been by yet? Perky little brunette with kind eyes?"

"No one has been by." Maze growled, stalking over to the window, palming a mug, and sneaking a peek outside. The sunlight filtered in and blew up the color in her eyes. Or rather the lack thereof. Maze sported the same silver mercurial iris' as Killian. I'd think they were related if I didn't know any better.

And I do.

"Better suit up. I'm sure she'll be by soon."

"Yeah? How sure?" She challenged, looking back at me as I started stretching.

"Pretty sure. Your predictable ass gets up at the same time every damn day, and she runs in the mornings."

She snorted, shaking her head and turning back to the window while taking a sip of coffee.