The Thistles of Rose

12 • Hot

In the morning, I awoke in the guest room from Luca kissing me on the forehead and then disappearing into the shower in our own room. It took me five minutes to fully come to my senses and I found his little "love" poem right next to me.

My love, I've got a confession for you;

Every day I fall in love with you more

But I'm now addicted to

fucking you like you're a —.

I audibly gasped. And then, my throat ached like nails scratching down a chalkboard.

Frankly, I liked it too. He's been so gentle during sex lately that we needed to switch it up a bit. It was a good change, even though my throat is aching me. Surprisingly, my core is not hurting. I guess it's finally become used to him.

"Hey, Rose," Brando walks into the kitchen as I stand over the steaming pot on the stove.

"Hey, Brando," I respond in a hushed voice.

"How's the risotto coming along?" He asks, standing next to me and peering into the pot.

"It's done. I put the chicken in the rice. Was I supposed to do that?" I query, suddenly becoming anxious that I messed it up.

Chicken risotto is Luca's favourite dish and, for once, I wanted to do something for him. I know he said I gave him the greatest gift ever but I need to make sure that I'm doing that right.

"It's better that way," Brando says and I hand him the spoon so he can taste it, "that's really good."

I smile at him in response and put the lid on the pot, leaving it on the stove.

"Hey, bitches. What's for dinner?" Marco chirps when he enters the kitchen and the stool scrapes against the floor.

"I made chicken risotto," I reply in a faint voice, sitting next to him.

"Broken bed and sore throat. Damn, you guys are kinky as fuck," Marco shudders. I flip the middle finger at him.

"I made you some chamomile tea. It should help your throat," Brando places a steaming mug in front of me and I thank him once again.

Marco bursts into a fit of laughter to the point he's wheezing for breath. Brando and I both look at each other and sigh.

"Why didn't you make me this for breakfast?" I whack Marco on the arm and declare, "this is why Brando's my favourite."

"Ouch," he exclaims, rubbing his arm and pouting, "don't speak to me."

"I literally can't," I whisper back, blowing on the tea and then taking a sip of it. The steaming sweet taste of it soothes my throat and I already feel it healing.

"Also, the bed's done but the guy wanted cash for putting it together so I took it out of the desk in the office," Brando informs me, leaning his hands on the island.

"How much?" I tilt my head.

"$100," he replies and grimaces, "so if Luc asks, that was you. Because he'll shout at me if he finds out I did it."

I roll my eyes continuing to drink my tea.

"Ooh, and I sort of accidentally scratched the Audi so can you take the blame for that too?" Marco pleads with his big, brown eyes and doesn't give me a chance to respond because he immediately adds, "thanks. Love you."

"Anything else?" I raise an eyebrow at both of them.

"I'll let you know when I break something again tomorrow," Marco grins and ruffles my damp hair.