Breaking Hollywood [CAMREN]

Chapter 13

Lauren

"Um, what are you doing?"

I stop with the spoon midway to my mouth and look up at Camila.

God, she looks good. The jackass.

She's wearing athletic shorts again, as it's all she can wear with the boot on her leg, and a running vest on top. She's the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life.

Shame she's a jerk.

"I'm eating breakfast."

Her brows draw together. "I told you that Harry was bringing breakfast."

I put the spoon back in the cereal bowl. "Yeah, but I thought that was just for you guys."

"He always brings enough food to feed a small army. There'll be plenty for you."

"Oh. Okay. Thank you." I feel really warm at the idea that she's including me in breakfast with her brother.

She removes the crutch from under her arm and leans against the counter. "Where's psycho goat?" she asks, looking around like Gucci's going to jump out and attack her at any minute.

"Gucci is out on the terrace."

"Shitting?"

"No. Enjoying the sunshine."

"Talking of sunshine, why are you dressed like it's winter?"

I glance down at my sweater and then back up at her. I narrow my gaze at her. The bastard knows why I'm dressed like this. I wanted to cover up well after Nipplegate.

I'm wearing a padded bra. It makes my boobs look bigger, but at least it keeps the nips from showing. And, just to be doubly sure, I put a knit sweater on. And jean shorts because it is warm out there, so I'm staying cool where I can.

"Just keeping the girls covered. Wouldn't want to have any more showings and give you another reason to be a pervy jackass."

Her mouth spreads into a grin. "Aw, Speedy. I was just playing with you. Don't cover up on my account. I wouldn't want you to sweat to death."

"I won't." I sit up and fold my arms over my chest. "I'll be perfectly fine."

"If you say so."

"I do. And here's your coffee." I slide over the cup of coffee I made her, and I pick my own up, cradling it in my hands.

She takes a sip and then puts it down. Using her crutch, he leans over and opens a cupboard where she pulls out a bottle of scotch.

I watch as she pours a good measure into the coffee. Then, she puts the bottle back into the cupboard and takes another drink of coffee. A gulp this time.

She sees me staring at him.

"You want to make your coffee Irish?" she asks.

"You used scotch. Wouldn't that make it Scottish?"

Her lips press together in a smile. "Someone's snarky this morning."

I raise a disapproving brow. "Don't you think it's a little early to be making coffee anything of the European type?"

Her eyes darken, not looking impressed. "If I wanted to be nagged on the regular, I'd get married. I'm not, so I'll make my coffee however the fuck I want." Taking her coffee with her and leaving behind one of her crutches, he heads out of the kitchen.

She's right. I shouldn't be interfering in how she lives his life.

It's not like I have anything to be singing about.