I focus harder on the mug, desperately trying to think back to that first day at school, going over Ember’s rundown of the guys. She said something about wanting to suck his dick and then told me that King is practically the devil in human form, and if I take the way he fucks into consideration, then yeah, I’d definitely agree with that. Personality-wise? I don’t know. Maybe he’s misunderstood or just puts on a mask for the outside world.
But what was his first name? Fuck. I’m going to have to check that one with Ember because after fucking the guy three times, perhaps it’s rude to admit that I can’t remember his damn name.
Once his coffee is ready, King makes his way over to the table with his bowl of cereal and drops down into the seat beside me, his natural musky scent hitting me as he passes and nearly making me come in my pants. He makes himself comfortable, slipping his hand under the table and dropping it high on my thigh, silently teasing me.
I suck in a gasp and as all eyes fall to mine, I pretend to choke on my coffee, making some bullshit lie about it going down the wrong hole. King’s eyes sparkle with laughter, but his face remains void of any emotion, making him nearly impossible to read.
Crap. Hunter. That’s it. Hunter King. I like it.
Silence falls around us as the boys work on their breakfast, and I can’t help but notice the way Cruz’s curious gaze flicks between King and me as if he can sense something there. He leans back in his chair and looks as though he’s about to start asking questions that I’m not ready to answer when Carver comes striding into the room and steals a piece of toast right off Grayson’s plate, while walking into the kitchen for a glass of OJ.
Carver returns to the table a second later, also watching me with a curious stare and I can’t help but feel as though he’s wanting to ask a few too many questions as well.
I have to get out of here.
All four boys watch me. Grayson with annoyance, Cruz with suspicion, Carver with confusion, and King with one hell of a steamy secret. I finish my coffee as fast as humanly possible.
The second the last drop is gone from the mug, I fly to my feet and rush into the kitchen to rinse it out and drop it into the dishwasher. I turn back to the guys, awkwardly standing before them. “So, umm … I just wanted to say thanks for letting me crash here the last two nights, and you know, saving my ass, but I think I’m going to head back to Irene and Kurt’s place to grab my stuff, then head over to Ember’s place until I figure out where to go.”
“What? No,” Cruz demands, flying to his feet. “That’s ridiculous. First off, you have a perfectly good place to stay here, and secondly, there’s no way in hell I’m about to let you go waltzing back into Kurt’s place. I’m sorry, babe, but you’re fucking insane if you think you’re going back in there. Let me go, I’ll get your shit and bring it back here.”
I laugh, honestly thinking he’s joking but seeing the look on all of their faces I realize that maybe they all feel that way. “Umm … no. That isn’t how this is going to happen. You guys don’t get a say over how I do things. I’m not your problem. I can work it out for myself.”
“I’m with Cruz,” King says, getting to his feet and leaning against the back of his chair. “I think you’re fucking stupid for going back there.”
I gape at him, wondering when the hell he decided that he was entitled to an opinion on my life, all of them for that matter. “It’s not like I’m planning on sitting down and telling him all about my adventure with the sex trafficker. I’ll sneak through the window and get out of there before he even notices what’s up. None of you need to worry, I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”
Carver scoffs as though I’m missing some big point, but he can go fuck himself. I get exactly what they’re trying to say, but the threat has passed. I’m not going back to live with Kurt and Irene, I’ll be getting my stuff and flying straight out the door.
Carver goes to get out of his seat and my eyes bug out of my head. That’s not good. I can trust Cruz and King to hold their ground, but Carver will insist on locking my ass in his spare bedroom just to keep me here, which I honestly still don’t get.
He turns to face me, a challenge in his eyes, but I beat him to the punch, raising my chin in defiance. “You told me yesterday that I was a free agent. I know I’m technically owned by the Dynasty bullshit, but you said that I could leave. So, what is it? Am I a prisoner or am I free to walk out the door?”