𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 🔞

Three fifteen AM.

Why the hell am I awake?

But then the pounding on the door reminds me.

“Dan,” I croak out, my voice thick with sleep. My tongue feels like it’s plastered to the top of my mouth thanks to the red wine I drank last night. “Dan!”

“Uh?” He mumbles, barely moving.

Bang, bang, bang.

“Dan!” I throw off the covers and poke him in the back, frowning as I leave our bedroom.

The hallway is dim, but I make my way down it in four strides because our apartment is tiny.

Peering through the spyhole, I choke on a scream when I see a brown eyeball staring back at me. Clutching my chest, I back away, panting with fear.

“Dan!”

My boyfriend falls out of bed, a collection of limbs and flesh hitting the floor with a groan.

“Fuck, Olivia! Where’s the fire?”

He stomps into the hallway, his eyes bleary. His hair sticks up in every direction, and the throb between my legs reminds me that I’m responsible for it.

“Can someone open the fucking door?”

We both freeze and stare at the door, but then Dan mutters to himself.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Dan strides to the door and unlocks it, my heart hammering in my chest as he opens it to the unknown.

Two kohl-ringed brown eyes appear from the most exquisite face I’ve ever seen, and I can’t help but gape. This guy is the opposite of my boyfriend, but there’s something about him that seems familiar. His dark brown hair falls into his eyes, and when he flicks his head back to clear his view, my eyes are drawn to his lips. And he is ripped.

Holy shit.

“Who the fuck are you?” I demand, crossing my arms. I’m only wearing a thin t-shirt that barely covers my ass, and this guy is taking his time in checking me out. “Hey, asshole, eyes up here.”

I point two fingers at my eyes and he gives me a lazy smile, giving me wild butterflies in my stomach.

“Apologies, blondie.” His voice is gravelly and sexy as hell, but I’m not buying his tattooed bad boy shit.

He’s at our door at three in the fucking morning, and I don’t know who this prick is.

“Leave it, Easton.”

I look at Dan with surprise.

“You know this asshole?” I jut my thumb towards the door. “Care to explain why he’s at our door at three AM?”

Dan stares ahead, his jaw clenched.

“I suppose you better come in.” Then he glances at me, sighing heavily. “I’ll explain, I promise. Just not right now.”

He pleads with me silently, and I arch a brow at him in disbelief.

Some guy bangs our door down in the middle of the night and he doesn’t have time to explain?

I scowl at the asshole grinning at me from the doorway and tug my shirt as far down as it can go without my tits popping out.

He licks his bottom lip and smirks at me.

“See ya, blondie.”

“Fuck off,” I retort, earning a chuckle from the antichrist on my doorstep.

“Olivia!” Dan snaps, running a hand through his hair. “Go back to bed!”

Asshole watches me with interest as I fight with myself internally. Who the fuck is Dan talking to?

Go to bed?

I’m not a child.

But I’m too tired and hungover for this shit. Whoever this asshole is, Dan knows him.

“Whatever.”

I head back to our room, trying to ignore the deep chuckle that seems to chase me, making me slam the door hard behind me, my heart thudding in my chest.

I collapse into bed, wondering if there’s any point in listening at the door.

Dan isn’t the sort of guy to know people like…Easton?

I’m sure that’s what Dan called him.

Dan with his pressed white shirts and ice white teeth. Who thought pleasuring a woman consisted of rubbing a clit raw.

I grimace as I cross my legs, my clit burning from his earlier efforts.

We hadn’t had sex in months. Now I remember why.

Raised voices come from the hallway, and I stiffen.

“You need to sort yourself out. For a change. I’m going to bed, you get the spare room.”

I curl up in a ball and pretend to be asleep when Dan comes in, huffing loudly.

“Sorry, babe.”

I don’t respond.

Let him think I’m asleep.

“I know you’re awake, Olivia.”

He slides into bed beside me and I immediately clamp my legs shut when his hand strokes my thigh. “Hey, are you mad?”

Mad?

Not even close.

I’m infuriated. There’s a strange guy in our apartment—fuck, why am I internalising this shit?

“Who the fuck is he?”

Dan stills.

There’s silence so loud it’s deafening, and I dig my nails into my palms, majorly pissed with him.

“His name is Easton,” Dan says, giving me his back. “And he’s my brother.”

I couldn’t have heard him right.

Because the last time I checked, my boyfriend of two years didn’t have a brother.

I laugh.

“What?”

He better be joking.

But what other reason is there for him to know this…man?

“Olivia, please. I’m tired. We’ve got work tomorrow, it’s been a heavy night as it is. Let’s talk in the morning, okay?”

My head spins.

Talk in the morning?!

“It is the morning!” I protest, now wide awake. “There’s a strange guy sleeping in our spare room—”

“I know, Olivia. But I’ve told you that he’s my brother, so you’re completely safe. Now go to sleep, or at least allow me to.”

I’m annoyed.

“I’m off tomorrow, if you recall,” I snap, pissed that he’s barely listened to me counting down to my day off all week.

He’s on my last nerve.

“Olivia!” Dan groans, pulling the duvet over his head.

I can’t believe this. Not only is a weird guy in our apartment, but he’s my boyfriend's brother that he said he didn’t have.

How can Dan be so dismissive? Anyone in my position would want to know what the fuck was going on!

I cross my arms and flop back onto my pillow, staring at the ceiling. Unfamiliar noises come from the spare room, and I grit my teeth.

What the fuck is he doing in there?

Surely he’d just go to sleep after waking us up at some ungodly hour?

I really don’t like this guy.

A door slams and I jump out of my skin, gritting my teeth.

Disrespectful asshole.

We worked our asses off to get this apartment, but Dan seems to think of it as his because he put down the majority of the deposit.

Well fuck him.

It’s not just his apartment, and first thing in the morning he’s got some explaining to do.

Starting with why he lied to me about not having any siblings, let alone a tattooed god-like creature like Easton.

I guess that’s why he seemed familiar. They have similar eyes, but where Easton surrounds his with black eyeliner, Dan’s are pristine.

Urgh.

I stare at the ceiling until the noises finally stop, and check the time again.

Five-ten AM.

I want to scream, but there’s no point. I thump my pillow and grab the duvet, twisting on my side.

My brain is on overdrive.

Who is Easton and why is he here?

Why did he turn up at three in the morning?

Why did Dan lie to me?

The last question bothers me the most.

As pissed off as I am, I know I need to sleep. I've been working my ass off this week and the last thing I need is to be tired and cranky on my only day off.

Dan snores beside me and I wonder how he does it—falls to sleep at the drop of a hat.

But Dan has had an easy life, with everything handed to him on a silver platter. Grandparents that paid for him to study, bought him his first car and whatever else he needed. Dans probably never been hungry in his life.

It’s a feeling you don’t forget too easily.

Not that I begrudge him of that, but it still makes me envy him. He could fall off a cliff and somehow land on his feet.

Me though?

I’d fall off the cliff and hit every branch on the way down.

But that’s not Dan’s fault.

It’s my mothers.

I can’t go down memory lane tonight, or any other night. The light from the morning sneaks through the bottom of the curtains, announcing dawn's arrival with a cheery glow.

Fucking hell.

I scrunch my eyes shut and try to sleep, ignoring the black rimmed eyes that seem to be staring at me through the walls between us.

Maybe I’m still drunk.

But I know one thing for sure—Easton isn’t staying here with us. It’s cramped with two of us, let alone three.

And I can just tell Easton is going to be nothing but a pain in my ass, so the sooner he’s gone, the better.