Connor drank some milk before putting the carton back into the fridge.
“There is no other woman for me. I’ll see you in the morning,” Connor said.
Chapter Eight
For the first time in his life, Brent couldn’t get to sleep. Most of the time he was the first out of the whole house to fall asleep. He’d heard Jake and Connor go to their own rooms a few hours ago. The whole house was silent, and glancing at the window, it was still night time. He stared at his ceiling, wondering what could be plaguing him.
Counting sheep didn’t help, and masturbating held little appeal. In the room next to his lay a sleeping Zoe. She had to be asleep. No sound had come from her room in hours. Writing his story didn’t appeal to him either. He replayed the night back through his mind wondering if he was missing anything from earlier.
The only thing he would have changed was Zoe. When he held her in his arms behind the bar, for a few seconds she had been completely his, and he’d have taken her.
Another thirty minutes passed of his mental cursing, and he couldn’t handle it anymore. He threw his sheets off, grabbed a pair of shorts, and moved out of his room. Walking towards Zoe’s door, he put his shorts on then waited with his fist poised to knock.
He didn’t want to startle her or wake her. She had looked exhausted earlier. He’d be a selfish prick to wake her up.
“A snack should do the trick.” He walked down the steps towards the kitchen. When Connor was going through his insomnia phase he’d be up watching porn or a documentary. Brent stretched out his muscles then walked toward the bread box. He grabbed the bread then moved toward the fridge.
He grabbed several ingredients to make himself a sandwich. Brent closed the door and saw Zoe standing in the doorway. She jumped as the fridge closed. He noticed she was rubbing her eyes.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you. I wanted to get a glass of water,” she said.
“Do you want me to get it for you?” he asked.
“I can get it.” She passed him without touching. Brent watched her as she stared at the array of cupboards. They’d designed the kitchen for their height. Zoe could barely reach the handles on the top cupboards.
Chuckling, he moved behind her, opened a cupboard and handed her a glass.
“You didn’t think of a woman when you built this kitchen?” she asked.
“Size and a woman never entered our heads. Connor is the kitchen guy. He knows how to handle this place better than I do.”
“He owns a pink whisk?”
Brent nodded his head. “Girly colour, don’t you think?”
“It is not a colour I would associate with Connor, no.”
He smiled pulling out a glass chopping board. “I’m making myself a sandwich. Do you want one?”
She nodded her head. Brent waited for her to take a seat. She stood looking uncomfortable with his presence. He grabbed a stool and then picked her up, placing her in the stool. She gave a tiny squeak, but he muffled the sound with a kiss. “You make the cutest sounds.”
“I’m not used to being man-handled.”
Brent left her in her seat as he went back to making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He felt her presence right down to his core. A quick glance at his shorts and they were tenting over his erection. He always did have a bigger sex drive than the other two.
Keep it in your pants, Brent. Fucking her is not an option right now.
He’d felt the tension between them, and he didn’t like it.
Brent handed her a sandwich and took the seat next to her. He tried to cover his erection and not in any way touch her. Touching her would be bad. She ate her sandwich in silence. His knee bounced to try to distract himself from the way the shirt she wore outlined her full breasts. Her nipples were hard as they poked against the front.
Think about something awful.
He ran a hand over his face.
The horrible cars you’re working on. Leaking gas and the scent of the sewage.
Nothing helped.
He thought about his current story, and all that did was make him harder than rock.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re shaking your leg.”
“I’m fine.”
She didn’t say anything else. Brent took a deep breath and looked at her. She looked so sad it was like a punch to the gut.
“If you don’t find me attractive, why are you all trying to get into my pants?” she asked, catching his attention.
“What?”
Her gazed turned to him. There were tears in her eyes. Her cheeks were red, and he saw some other emotion that he didn’t understand.
“I know you’re not attracted to me. I think you should tell Connor how you feel. I can be gone by the end of the week.” She stood and put her plate in the sink. He watched her walk past him.