She was hot as h.e.l.l, and I know she didn't even realize it. The way she looked at me out of those hungry eyes, her shaking lips as she moaned in bliss, how she punched her hips at me to meet my every thrust.

It was a really good lay for Ca.s.sie's first time. I think about telling her that.

"Oh, you're up?"

I turn around and see her standing in the doorway. I wait for it, while her eyes roam down my half-naked body. She sees my erection, and she makes a face.

"Really? Still?"

"It's not what you think," I say, mouth full of toothpaste.

"What, you have a s.e.x dream or something?"

"Don't you know anything about men?" I spit out a mouthful of toothpaste and grin at her.

She just scowls at me and then walks off, and begins to rummage around in the bedroom for something.

"Ah," she says, and she walks past the bathroom door again, holding a mouse in her hand and trailing the USB cord. It rattles against the wooden tiles.

I finish up in the bathroom, and then grab my t-s.h.i.+rt and amble downstairs.

I see her sitting at the kitchen counter, but she doesn't even acknowledge me. She's pecking away on her keyboard. I drop my t-s.h.i.+rt on the counter.

"Breakfast?"

She scoffs. "You think I'm going to cook you breakfast?"

I shrug, open the fridge, and pull out a carton of eggs, some milk, and b.u.t.ter.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

"I was offering to cook you breakfast," I tell her, taking a frying pan hanging from the wall and inspecting it. "You need better pans. And don't refrigerate your b.u.t.ter."

"A bad boy, a fighter, and a chef, huh?"

"You think I got a body like this by accident? You got any chives?"

"What for?"

"You never had scrambled eggs with chives?"

"No," she tells me.

"Oh, boy, you've missed out."

I set the pan down, turn the fire on low, and drop in a small chunk of b.u.t.ter. Then I walk around the kitchen counter toward her, wrap Ca.s.sie up from behind.

I smell her neck. G.o.d, she smells amazing in the morning. I could smell this every single day and be a happy man.

"Stop it," she says, trying to squirm out from my grip, but I just hold her tighter, press my hardness into her back.

"Chance," she breathes.

"Ca.s.s."

"Really, I'm trying to check my email."

"Alright," I say. "Not up for it in the morning, then?"

She doesn't answer.

"Ca.s.sie."

"Yeah?"

"Chives!"

"Vegetable drawer. Where else would they be?"

"So you have some?"

"I don't know. Check!"

I squint at her. We seem to have lost some ability to communicate.

I root through the drawer, find a bunch of chives, and chop up a couple of stalks, and she notices that I'm good with a knife.

"You cook a lot?"

"Mm-hmm," I say, nodding. I crack the eggs into a bowl, beat them quickly with a fork, mix in just a tiny bit of milk, and then pour the mixture into the pan.

The chives go on last, a quick couple of turns, and then I bring Ca.s.sie her plate and a fork.

Gingerly, as if she doubts me, she tests a bite, but her face lights up. "Wow, it is pretty good with chives."

"You can try some parsley, too," I tell her. "Though it won't taste as strong."

"I never knew you were so domestic," she says.

I blink. Now that was uncanny.

But Ca.s.sie stops looking at me, and the grin fades from her face. She's heard something, and then I hear it, too. The sound of a car stopping.

She runs to the window. "s.h.i.+t, it's Dad!"

"You forgot he was coming back today?"

"He was supposed to come back tomorrow!" she cries.

Well... this could get very awkward.

Chapter Sixteen.

I dart wide eyes to Chance, but he just returns my look of utter horror with a smirk.

"Are we meeting each other's parents already?"

"Shut up!" I hiss at him. "Um, quick, hide!"

He makes a face. "I'm not going to f.u.c.king hide."

"Chance!" I spit, slapping my thighs. I hear one car door close, but it's followed by a second.

I bunch my brow together. Who the h.e.l.l has Dad brought over?

I realize belatedly that I'm not even dressed, and that my hair is a mess, and if Dad's brought over a guest... argh! And without telling me?

I'll kill him.

"At least put on your f.u.c.king s.h.i.+rt!" I hurl at Chance. He shrugs, takes the tee from the counter and squeezes into it.

It's tight, hugs his muscular body. I'm not even sure it qualifies as a t-s.h.i.+rt. Maybe some kind of under-garment.

I hear keys jingle at the front door, and quickly corral my hair as best I can. I check myself, make sure everything is in order, and then the front door swings open and Dad walks in.

He sniffs the air for a moment, and I chew on my lower lip, heart racing.

Then he turns toward the kitchen, sees me. He beams me a broad smile.

Then his eyes flick to Chance, and his smile plummets into a frown.

"Ca.s.sie?" I hear Dad say, and he walks slowly into the kitchen, setting down his luggage.

"Hey, Dad."

Dad's eyes wipe up and down Chance. They linger on his tattoos for a moment, then on his build, then his face. "Who is this?"

"Just a friend from school," I quickly say before Chance can reply.

From behind Dad, I see the door open a little wider. To my great astonishment, a woman walks in. She's wearing sungla.s.ses, a severe expression, and uptight clothing.

For some inexplicable reason, Chance just starts laughing. It's only a few seconds later that he's gripping onto the kitchen counter, knuckles all white, eyes tearing up, silently heaving with laughter.

"What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you?" I hiss at him.

The woman approaches us, stands next to Dad. She offers me a strained smile, and then her eyes skip over to Chance.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, removing her sungla.s.ses. Her brows are knitted together, and she looks utterly confused.

"You know this boy?" Dad asks.

"Yes!" the woman says. "He's my son."

I look between Chance and his mother, see the resemblance. His beautiful hazel eyes are from his mother!

Oh my G.o.d!

Then I see the glint of something s.h.i.+ny on Dad's hand. I peer at it... it's a ring!

"Dad," I say in a whisper, pointing at his hand. Then I see a ring on her hand as well. "Did something happen in Vegas?"

Dad puts an arm around Chance's mother, and squeezes her into his side.

"This is Deborah Hudson," he says. "We got married."

He's smiling broadly, proudly, but my world is falling away.

"When?" I cry, palms facing the ceiling.

"A few days ago."

"A few days ago?" I echo in disbelief. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I thought it would be better face to face."

"Are you insane?" I shout, utterly consumed by exasperation and incredulity. "Just like that?"

I cast wild eyes on Chance, but he's just leaning against the kitchen counter, regarding me, considering me, that stupid look of amus.e.m.e.nt on his face. He picks up his plate of unfinished eggs, and begins to eat.

I huff out a frustrated sigh, but Dad's expression has changed. He looks angry now.

"Ca.s.sie," he says. "You are being impolite."

Chance's mother steps into the kitchen, approaches me. "I didn't know you two were friends?"

"We only just became friends," I say hastily when I see Chance opening his egg-filled mouth to speak. I stick out a hand quickly. "It's nice to meet you Ms. Hudson."

"You're right in a.s.suming I didn't take your father's name," she says, and she's got this patronizing tone in her voice. "What an archaic inst.i.tution."

"Okay?" I whisper, now thoroughly confused.