Word has it that opposites attract. Jessica Keith would give the pithy expression two middle fingers because a wild party girl like her and the prim do-gooder, Matthew Parkinson are opposites hopeless to attract, let alone breathe the same air.
Howe...
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Jessica
My alarm goes for the fifth time. My finger hovers on the snooze button then thought better of it when I realized why I set an alarm in the first place. I peeled my eyes open and pushed myself off the bed. I put on my slippers and shuffle my way out of my temporary bedroom.
There was a clank of pots in the kitchen. I groggily followed the commotion, expecting Matthew so perfectly making breakfast in his perfectly perfeccctttt ways.
I paused at the doorway.
It wasn't Matthew.
"Good morning, gorgeous." Andrei closes the fridge, three eggs in one hand.
I struck him a confused gaze. "Did your brother let you in?"
"No. Just broke in." He grinned.
I gape.
He chuckled. "I'm kidding. Seven o'clock is not too early for humor. I used my key."
"Oh," I blinked then beamed. "Does this mean you're going to be around as much as I will?"
"Maybe. I'm Miles' personal chef."
I walked across the room and sat on one of the bar stools. The information is a relief. Part of me wanted to rejoice but the other half insisted I keep it to myself.
Andrei laid the eggs on the counter next to a glass bowl. He squinted his eyes. "Do you not trust yourself around my brother?"
I snorted. "Of course I do."
"Why do you look so relieved?"
"Relieved?" I press a hand on my chest as if offended. "This is just how I look in the morning."
He laughs. "Right. I'll pretend I believe that."
My stomach rolled. Apparently, my hunger is stronger than my force of denial. "What are we having for breakfast?"
He gave me an amused look. "How can you be hungry all the time and not gain weight?"
I shrugged.
"Do you wear that around my brother?"
I look down to my cami. "Yes. I wear pajamas to bed like everybody else."
Andrei snickered. "You call those pajamas? The low-cut says otherwise. And your shorts are only one inch away from being panties."
I gasped. "I can wear anything low-cut as long as I want. Besides, it's not like my boobs are spilling out. And this," I tap on my shorts, "is adequately short, thank you very much."
"Do you at least have a robe?"
"Why would I need one?"
He reached over the counter, grabbing an apple and handing it to me. "You're not living alone anymore. You can't just walk around wearing that thing."
