The Six: Genesis | A Reverse Harem Novel

Eighty-Four

A woman answers Lewis' door.

"Where's the pizza?"

I blink owlishly, "pizza?"

"Yes. We ordered delivery." She opens the door wider and glances over my shoulder. "Did you forget it or something?"

I don't hear much of what she said. All I can focus on is one word. We.

She said we ordered pizza. Not I.

She's beautiful; waist-length, wavy coal hair with a pair of dark brown eyes. Her eyebrows, neatly threaded, match her hair and thick eyelashes. A button nose leads to full pink lips and a delicate, pointed chin.

Gorgeous.

We're about the same height, but she's willowy and moves with grace. The clothes she wears swallow her form. A familiar anime t-shirt, and black sweatpants stuffed into a pair of multi-colored anime socks fill me with dread.

Is she...? Are they...? I can't think.

"Can I help you?"

Her question falls on deaf ears as Lewis steps around the corner. His footsteps are heavy on the cherry hardwood floors, echoing louder the closer he comes. Without looking, he rounds his grey sectional and steps over his Bengal cat to pause near his fireplace.

My stomach sinks. He's half-naked. Dressed only in a pair of grey sweatpants, Lewis is picture picture-perfect male.

I'd never seen him this far undressed. Lean muscle lines every inch of him. It flexes and rolls under his skin as he moves.

"Excuse me," she interrupts my ogling, "were you looking for someone?'

My mouth drops open as he drags a t-shirt over his head and turns. Midway down his chest, the shirt stops when his head snaps upward. Surprise flickers across his face.

"Hello?" The woman waves a hand in front of my face.

His hair is wet. So is hers. Freshly showered?

I think I'm going to be sick.

Yet, I can't stop the torture. Slowly, I catalogue their similarities. Each one chips away at my heart.

Wet hair. Wet spots in their shirts. Socks, no shoes. Shared clothing belonging only to him.

Two bottles of red wine sit on his wood and resin coffee table near a pair of stemless wine glasses.

Across the couch, a single weighted blanket awaits. The smoky scent of crackling wood from his fireplace fill my nostrils.

Date. He's on a date. My next breath aches as I take it.

Finally, my name leaves his lips and a smile blazes across his handsome face. Shaken, I jerk a step back. What have I walked into?

"Blue? What's wrong?"

"This is Blue?" Her almond-shaped eyes widen, and she smiles. "You're Blue?"

I nod, tensing further. She'd heard of me? I wonder what he's told her about me?

Am I a ghost in the story? The woman who disappeared without a trace? Some horrid bitch who listened to him say he cared about her and then never called again?

As the wheels turn in my mind, I draw my gaze between them. They're a striking couple, and I'm sure they have plenty in common. And by the looks of it, they've already fucked.

I know what I should do. I should ask. I should open my mouth and ask who she is since she obviously knows me, but I can't get my mouth to work and my voice to cooperate.