Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Ah. I see.
My sigh was purely internal. “Go shower. I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks, baby,” he muttered gratefully then disappeared into the bathroom.
Inhaling deeply, I went over to Connor’s room and knocked. No response. I knocked again. “Hello?” I called as I opened the door and the naked woman in the middle of the bed was fast asleep.
Ugh. This was the worst part of my job.
I went over to the curtain and opened it. The second I did, hot naked lady stirred. She groaned and I spoke. “Good morning.” Her head snapped up. “I hope you enjoyed your stay with us. Unfortunately, the guys need to get to practice, so…” I hated this part. “…if you could pop your clothes on and come on out, that would be great.” I smiled then finished with “See you out there.”
The second I walked out of Connor’s room, Hell farted again, and then he groaned. “Ugh, I’m dying.”
My stomach turned but I went over to him, sitting by his head and stroking his warm head. “You’re not dying.”
“I’m dying,” he reiterated gruffly.
Hell’s bells, the smell was rotten. I pinched my nose and grimaced. “Hell, what did you eat?”
“Pasta,” he spoke into the cushion. “I got the carbonara.”
The last time this happened, Hell had eaten mac and cheese. The time before that, it was garlic shrimp. Another time, it was an ice cream sundae. And then it hit me.
“Hell—” I stroked his forehead and he moaned pitifully. “—I think you’re lactose intolerant.”
“What?” He sounded adorably confused.
“Every time you eat something with cream or cheese or milk in it, your stomach cramps and you get gassy.” He spun around to look up at me. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
He was a pouting Thomas. “What does that mean?”
“I’ll have to buy some lactose free milk and cream. I don’t actually know if that’s the case but we’ll test it out, okay?”
“Okay.” Then Hell looked me in the eye, clenched his stomach and pushed out a massive fart.
Throwing his head to the side, I shot up and glared at him. “I don’t believe you.”
His shoulders shook in silent laughter. “What? I’m lactose intolerant!”
“Uh, hi.”
The woman had emerged from Connor’s room, dressed, and was looking around at us, holding her purse close to her stomach. I smiled kindly and went over to the breakfast bar. “Hi.” She looked around and appeared to be uber cautious. “Don’t be scared. They’re just a goofy band of brothers.”
Connor walked out of the bathroom in a towel and the woman smiled at him. He didn’t even look at her. Instead, he came over to me and said the same thing he said to me every morning. “Hey, Emmy.” He picked up an apple and bit into it. “Wanna fuck?”
The woman glared. I wasn’t sure why it was directed at me though. “Oh, uh…” I pushed my glasses up onto my nose and smiled, then politely returned, “No, thank you.”
He chewed slowly, looking me up and down. “You sure?”
Every morning, it was the same. “I’m sure.”
“Okay,” he said, walking to his room. As he passed the woman, he winked. “Thanks for a rocking night, babe, but it’s time to go.”
The woman nodded then did something very stupid. She came over to the breakfast bar, where I stood, and stated, “If they’re a band of brothers, what does that make you?” She looked me up and down. Her smile was vicious. “The ugly stepsister?”
The entire room stilled. Hell even sat up.
My stomach dropped.
Connor materialized in the doorway of his room, stark naked.
I can honestly say that in the time I worked with these men, I’d seen more penises in six weeks than I had in my entire life.
When he spoke, it was so quiet I wasn’t sure I heard him. “What did you just say?”
The woman spun around and forced a laugh. “It was a joke.”
I didn’t know what was coming but I knew it wasn’t good. Connor stalked out of his room to the woman, bent down and picked up her heels, gripped her upper arm hard enough to bruise and walked her to the door. When the door opened, he shoved her out, threw her heels to the floor and muttered, “Bye, bitch.”
The door slammed so hard I jumped.
Connor trudged into his room and reappeared a moment later wearing black boxers. He came over to me and pointed hard at me. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
What had I done? Why was he mad at me?
Connor shrugged into his tee. “Don’t ever let anyone speak to you like that.” He was livid. “Not even me.” Said the guy wearing a No Fat Chicks T-shirt.
“Okay,” I told him uncertainly.
Lee cut in, “Nice Betty, man.”
Connor attacked. “Fuck you, Lee. You’re just jealous ‘cause you aren’t getting any.”
Lee’s voice strained. His infection was getting better, but it still wasn’t gone. “Whatever. I’m just saying—”