ADDICTED

59

JAMES

Thump!

Thud.

"Shit!"

Groaning, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up. My entire back and neck felt stiff, as though I'd slept sideways all night.

I blinked until my eyes adjusted to the bright light of sunshine.

I looked around and realized I was sitting on the couch and that my head must have been resting on Leah's, as she was still sleeping beside me.

She looked like an angel, pink lips slightly parted and lashes fanned across her cheekbones.

A thumping hobbling noise met my ears as a figure stumbled into the kitchen. Sucking in a deep breath, I pushed myself off the couch and stretched.

Memories from last night gradually returned to me.

Alcohol. Lots of alcohol.

Ryan . . . and Isabelle. And Julia?

Isabelle and Julia?

That seemed like an almost disastrous combination. Whatever made Julia happy, I would support.

I started towards the kitchen and hissed as a sharp pain shot up through my back. Turning my head, my neck popped and the pain disintegrated. A lingering soreness remained in my healing leg and I grimaced at the thought that this kind of pain may never go away.

Julia was at the kitchen sink when I entered the room. She was washing something in the sink, bent over the ceramic lip.

"You're up early," I noted as I glanced at the clock over the stove. It was already 8.

Julia startled with a small gurgling scream. She spat out a mouthful of water into the sink.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked.

She wiped her mouth with a paper towel and shot me a heated scowl. "Choking up those whiskey shots from last night. Seriously, who takes shots of whiskey?"

"Loads of people," I quipped. "You're just a weakling."

She scrunched her nose at me. "I'll let that comment go if you start breakfast."

"Only if you start the coffee pot."

"Fuck, fine."

We move quietly about the kitchen as we prepared our separate duties, humming off-tune and in and out of harmony. The coffee pot just began beeping when a voice sounded from the doorway.

"Aren't you two cute?"

We both turned to spot Isabelle sashaying into the kitchen. Julia welcomed her with an open arm, pecking her on the lips. I smiled but turned back to the skillet full of scrambled eggs.

"New world Hansel and Gretel," Julia remarked sardonically.

"So we're getting pushed into the oven then?" I asked.

"Yeah. Probably by Ryan," replied Isabelle.

Lumbering steps alerted us to another figure in the threshold.

"What am I doing?" Ryan asked. His gaze switched suspiciously between Julia and Isabelle.

"Making Hansel and Gretel here into a barbecue—"

"I thought it was a pie?" Julia piped.

"Revolting." Ryan grimaced. "So, what's cooking?"

"Eggs Benedict, apple sausage, and toast," I said. "There're some jams in the fridge if you'd like to grab them, Jules. Coffee is ready too."