Twisted Hate (Twisted, 3)

I woke to the scent of bacon and coffee, my favorite smell in the world. Individually, they were amazing, but combined? Utter perfection.

I was surprised Stella was cooking bacon, though. She only ate meat once in a blue moon. Now that I thought about it, she didn’t drink coffee, either, just tea and her criminally grassy green smoothies.

Weird. Maybe she was entering a new coffee and meat phase.

I opened my eyes and stretched, ready to bask in the glory of my beautiful new room at The Mirage. Instead, I was greeted with the world’s most hideous painting. The mess of brown and green looked like a herd of cats had vomited on it.

What the hell?

I shot up straight, my heart pounding with panic until bits and pieces from last night slowly came back to me.

Hyacinth. Max. Josh. Storm.

I must’ve fallen asleep during the movie, and Josh must’ve moved me into his room sometime during the night.

My heart rate slowed. Thank God I wasn’t in some psycho murderer’s sex dungeon, though I wasn’t sure sleeping over Josh’s place was much better.

I looked around his room, taking in the simple wooden furniture, navy comforter, and light gray walls. Atrocious art aside, it looked like a regular guy’s room, though the faint scent of citrus and soap lingering in the air was so delicious I wanted to bottle it up for future enjoyment.

My eyes landed on the digital clock on the nightstand. 9:32 a.m. Shit. I should’ve been long gone by now.

I climbed out of bed and quickly washed my face and rinsed my mouth in the bathroom across the hall before I walked into the kitchen. I opened my mouth, ready to bid Josh a hasty goodbye, but my words died at the sight before me.

Josh was cooking. Shirtless.

Holy hell.

I think I just unlocked a new kink, because I suddenly couldn’t imagine anything sexier than watching a man cook bare-chested.

The sculpted muscles of his back flexed as he reached for the salt next to the stove. His hair was even more tousled than usual, and the sunlight streaming through the windows gilded his skin with a deep bronze glow. A sliver of black sweats peeked over the kitchen island blocking the bottom half of his body. The pants rode just low enough to send my imagination spiraling in all sorts of X-rated directions.

I watched him in silence, fascinated by the easy grace with which he moved. I’d pictured him subsisting on pizza and beer like he had in school, but judging by the gleaming pots and pans hanging on hooks over the island and the neatly labeled spices lined up on the counter, he knew his way around the kitchen.

It was strangely attractive.

I knocked into one of the island stools in my trance, and Josh turned at the sharp scrape of wood against tile. His gaze skimmed over me before he looked away.

“You’re awake.”

“I’ve never slept in so late.” I slid onto the stool and tried to keep my eyes above his waist. Don’t think about sex. Don’t think about sex. “Thanks for letting me stay over,” I added awkwardly.

Sleepovers hadn’t been part of our pact, and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it, especially after how, ahem, aggressive our nighttime activities had been.

It wasn’t like we’d made long, sweet love and I woke to him cooking me breakfast. It was more like…well, like he fucked my brains out and a thunderstorm trapped me in his house.

“I wasn’t going to throw you out in the rain, Red.” Josh slid a plate piled high with eggs, bacon, toast, and crispy hash browns onto the island.

My stomach rumbled, and I peeked over his shoulder at the stove. “Any chance you have a second plate?” I asked hopefully. “I’m starving.”

“Nope.” He popped a piece of bacon in his mouth. “Only made enough for one. Cooking breakfast for you would be too much like dating, and you already broke the rules by sleeping over. I had to sleep on the couch last night because of you. You can have my leftovers though.”

My jaw unhinged. “Are you serious?”

Disbelief erased the last bits of my grogginess. Obviously, I wasn’t entitled to breakfast, but it was pretty rude to eat right in front of me without offering me a plate.

“Does it look like I’m joking?”

“It looks like you’re two seconds away from a slow, painful death,” I growled. “There are plenty of knives in here, and I know how to use them.”

“Then use them to cook something for yourself.” Josh continued eating like he didn’t have a care in the world.

My eye twitched. Gah, he was so…so…ugh!

“You are such an asshole.”

“I remember you calling me the same thing last night.” He sipped his coffee. “Right before I fucked your brains out. Seems you have a thing for assholes, Red.”

Heat scalded my face and neck. “That was last night. This is now. And I didn’t mean to sleep over,” I snapped, hating how right he was. “I just fell asleep.”

“Yes, that’s what sleeping over means,” Josh said slowly. “With those reasoning skills, you’ll be winning court cases in no time.” He straightened and wiped his mouth with a napkin before tossing it in the trash. “I’m taking a shower. I have a shift in an hour.” He tipped his chin toward his plate. “Have at it if you want.”

I scowled at his retreating back.

My pride demanded I leave, but as always, my hunger overrode all.

I pulled the plate toward me and realized it was near full. He’d only eaten a few pieces of bacon. Weird. Josh usually ate like a horse. I once saw him mow down a double decker burger, large fries, two hot dogs, and a chocolate milkshake in less than twenty minutes.

For a doctor, he ate like crap.

I finished half the plate and returned to Josh’s room to change back into my clothes from last night. My dress was horribly uncomfortable compared to the softness of Josh’s shirt, but I resisted the urge to steal his clothes for myself. That was girlfriend behavior, and God knew I wasn’t his girlfriend.

By the time I was ready to leave, Josh still hadn’t gotten out of the shower.

I debated waiting for him so I could say bye, but that felt too awkward, so I sent him a quick text and slipped out quietly instead.

I’d just climbed into my Uber when a new message popped up on my screen.

No text, just an image. A still image from the tape, to be exact. I was on my knees while—

I quickly deleted it, but the bacon and eggs I ate earlier resurfaced in my throat.

Max.

I’d pushed him to the back of my mind while I was with Josh, but now, my anxiety from last night rushed back in a wave of nausea.

I knew exactly why he sent that picture. To fuck with my head and remind me of his dark, looming presence in my life. That was his M.O. He liked to toy with people until they drove themselves insane and did all the hard work for him.

I closed my eyes, trying to relax, but the car smelled like overly sweet air freshener and it made me gag even more.

I wished I could rewind time and freeze it so I stayed in the comforting oblivion of Josh’s house forever, but there was no hiding from the truth in the harsh light of day.

I could only hope that whatever “favor” Max asked of me was doable…or my life as I knew it would be over.