14. "I do love it when they grovel"

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I am the first person awake and in the kitchen the next morning, which is fine by me because I can bask in the peace and quiet before Brittany gets up. After a brief search of the cupboards, I decide that a bowl of Frosties would be the perfect start to my day, mainly because it would piss Brad off, and there's nothing I love more than that. Also, I'm still annoyed about the way he just dismissed my warning about Brittany last night. I was only trying to help for once.

I only get about five minutes of peace before Brad comes into the kitchen and ruins it. As expected, he doesn't acknowledge my presence but I can't help but notice the fact that he's only wearing a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers to cover his dignity. And I can't help but stare when he turns his back to me to look in the cupboard, my eyes grazing over the toned muscles of his naked back and down to his tight bum, which is very unfortunately covered by his boxers.

I might not like him, but that doesn't mean I don't like his body.

He picks up the box of Frosties from the cupboard, tilts it to pour the cereal and I watch with a smirk as a few measly crumbs land in his bowl. I have to bite my lip to stop myself from audibly laughing.

He starts to turn around and so I quickly look away so he doesn't know that I was checking him out, but not before I manage to get a very brief glimpse of the bulge concealed in his boxers.

And don't even judge; you know you'd be looking too.

I watch as he stares down at the nearly empty bowl on the table in front of me with furrowed brows and flared nostrils. Though I have eaten most of my breakfast, there are still a few stray Frosties floating around in the remaining milk. His expression turns from annoyed to borderline thunderous.

"They were delicious, by the way" I tell him with a sweet smile on my face.

He holds back whatever angry comment or insult that he obviously wants to throw at me and instead just opts to storm out of the kitchen. As he is leaving, he pushes past my brother who is just entering the kitchen. My brother frowns and sit down across from me.

"What's up with him?" he asks.

"I ate the last of the Frosties" I reply, to which Tristan gives me a warning look, "oh shut up, I'll buy him some more"

"Good, because I wasn't joking when I said no Brad drama until Brittany's gone, I don't have the energy"

Before I can even attempt to reply to that, Brittany enters the kitchen. She's wearing a horrendously short pink satin robe that is incredibly close to falling open and revealing far more of Brittany's chest than I ever want to see. I can only assume that it's for Brad's benefit and not for her future step-sibings'.

"Morning" she chirps, taking a seat next to Tristan, "what's for breakfast?"

What is this? A fucking hotel?

"Not sure" Tris replies, "what would you like?"

"Your mum usually makes me poached eggs on toast"

"Well, our mum's not here, is she?" I quip, "if you turn up at someone's home and invite yourself to stay for three days, you can make your own fucking breakfast"

"I was only saying" she mutters, "there's no need to be rude"

"There's no need for you to be here"

"Well" Tristan says loudly to try and divert the conversation, "I don't think we have any eggs, but we probably have some bread to make toast"

"Oh, okay..." she mutters, and it's clear she's not happy with the limited breakfast choices here in the flat.

"I could make you some now if you like" my brother suggests.

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