Shift OR Drift

Killian

I groan and roll over in the small bed. The short brunette sound asleep next to my naked body. My eyes open from the obnoxious sun that beams through the window aimed directly at the bed. My eyes flick open. Whoever placed this bed here, did not think the set up through. I remove my arm from under Amberly's body and get up, walking to her bathroom. I stare at my messed-up hair and the leftover taste with the sheets all the way up and over her shoulder. Her hair is a mess. Her make-up smeared all over her face from the shower. The arm under her head hangs off the bed as her left leg is ever so slightly bent over her right leg. Most of the time, after a night with a girl, I would leave at the sight of her like that but, there is something about the short brunette which only makes my groin harden at the imperfect sight of her. I lean against the sink facing opposite of the mirror and watch her sleep peacefully for a second.

A make-up bag stares and mocks me, I grab it and open up the removal wipes. I sit down next to the hungover short brunette. I slowly and softly wipe the make-up off of her face. She stirs a little and I remove my hand from her face as I wait for her to wake up. She does not budge. I wipe the rest off and press my lips to her forehead. I push off of the bed lightly and go back into the bathroom, double checking to put the wipes back exactly where I got them from. I look at her one more time.

I draw my attention away from her and collect my clothes from the bathroom floor. I put my boxers and slacks back on and cinch the belt to my waist. I look in the mirror and decide not to put the dress shirt back on. I double check that Amberly is asleep and make my way back down the stairwell into the kitsch only to be surprised over the face, it was not only Amberly, and I who came here last night. Royce's sleeping, hung over body, hugging a pillow to his chest, passed out on the couch near the stairwell. Safe to say he feels comfortable enough to crash absolutely anywhere he deems fit. Walking through the open corridor between the kitchen and living room, I spot Lexy epically failing at the attempt of pancakes while AJ, scrolls through his phone and sits at the island. Both of them look in my direction when they see me. A half smile dashes across my lips as I swing the fridge open and scrounge for water. Lexy has some issue with drinking from the tap, I guess. I pull out a cold bottle and take a swig. Both Lexy and AJ eye me. What is their deal?

"What?" I ask them and raise my hands in the air to suggest they are staring.

"Did you two finally?" Lexy asks me up front as she points at me and draws her fingers in a circle.

"Nope," I look at her and the poor pancake she is destroying, "are you going to keep butchering the food or are you going to let one of us cook?" Lexy shoots daggers at my head acting like I am not funny at all.

"I will let AJ cook when you find a shirt," she says AJ's name aloud in hopes to catch his attention to the conversation.

"Right because, a man totally lives here. There is just a plethora of options for clothing," sarcasm rolls off my tongue, "I am already uncomfortable in these slacks let alone a button up, so don't think for a second I am putting the shirt back on blondie," I give her a as a matter of face look.

"Amberly never cleaned out her father's room. There should be a shirt in there," Lexy suggests.

"No. Now move," I forcefully take the spatula out of her hand, "what is it with you and cooking anyway?" I ask her, wanting to know why she cannot cook at all.

"Never learned. Had to start when I moved here. Amberly usually does all the cooking." I note the fact that Amberly can cook.

"I can see why." I tease her.

Lexy does not answer me, instead she walks over to AJ and sits in his lap. The two of them have grown awfully close despite my efforts to split them up not that long ago. The thought of AJ blaming it on me being an asshole from time to time happened but, he knew the truth like I do. Her parents will never accept him for being some kid who wants to race and work on cars the rest of his life. Yes, he does have a real-life job but he hates it. His only use for it is to occasionally help with bills and it gives him something to do with his pass time. Lexy also has a job, or at least it is what I picked up on. Turns out she helps at her father's hospital working at the desk. Because we could have never guessed that. Sarcasm slips through my mind. Amberly apparently edits music for some producers which explains a lot about all of the tech stuff she has with her laptop and why her laptop always has some gray background with music looking lines on it. Royce and I are the only two who are jobless. It is not exactly like we have to work. The streets take care of me. Royce is simply trying to find his feet without our father suffocating him.