Page 46 of Endgame

“Because you think only a guy would go out with the intention of banging?”

“Well, yeah.”

“That’ssexist.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is,” I argued, amused. “What about girls? Do you think they don’t enjoy sex?”

“Wellobviouslygirls enjoy sex, too, Rourke,” Six snapped.

“Then why’s it hard for you to believe Meredith wants to fuck as many guys from the team as possible?”

“Because it’scheap!” she retorted angrily.

“Double standards, Six.” I laughed as I pulled into our driveway. “And here I was thinking you were a twenty-first century girl.”

“A girl wouldn’t think like that.”

“That one does,” I shot back.

“Whatever,” she huffed. “You shouldn’t have led her on anyway.”

“Did you see me kiss her?” Pulling up outside the house, I killed the engine. “Well. Did you?”

“Well…no,” she replied. “But you didn’t push her away.”

“Christ.” I unfastened my belt and turned in my seat to look at her. “What’s your problem? Are youjealousor something?”

“What?” she squeaked, face snapping towards me. “No. Of course I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous?” Glaring up at my face, she added, “I don’t give a damn what you do or who you do it with, Rourke.”

I shrugged. “You’re asking an awful lot of question for someone who doesn’t give a damn.”

Her jaw fell open and I grinned.

“You know, sometimes I really hate you,” Six muttered as she shoved open the passenger door and shimmied out. “You’re a real jackass, Rourke Owens.”

Yeah, she was probably right about me being a jackass. For some reason, when I was around that girl, the asshole in me came out in full force.

Six slammed the door in my face, and I watched with a shit eating grin on my face as she walked that fine ass of hers into my house.

Mercedes

“EAT BREAKFAST WITH ME,” were the first four words that came out of Rourke’s mouth when I entered the kitchen the following morning. I, of course, was instantly suspicious.

“Why?” I walked over to the breakfast bar and pulled out the stool opposite his before taking a seat, eyes locked on Rourke in suspicion. “Have you pissed in my cornflakes, Rourke?”

“Funny.” He smirked and shoved a plate towards me. “Actually, I made bacon.”

“Oh.” My brows rose in surprise. Actually, it was more than surprise. It was intense shock why was he being nice to me this morning? Rourke was never nice to me. “Why?”

“Do you want some or not?” he shot back, irritated, blue eyes narrowed on my face.

“Okay.” Never one to refuse free food, I snatched a piece of bacon off the plate and bit down. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Rourke was quiet as he picked at a piece of bacon between his fingers. I was stumped. I didn’t get it. I had no freaking clue why he had just offered me breakfast. My confusion and suspicion slipped away the moment I trailed my gaze over Rourke’s bare chest.

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