Page 94 of Endgame

“Because I see something between you two,” she replied honestly. “A connection.”

Thankfully, I didn’t have to respond to her statement because Rourke chose this exact moment to saunter into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of navy sweatpants.

Immediately, my traitorous heart decided to jackhammer in my chest; the sight of my stepbrother the cause of my body’s violent reaction.

“Mills,” Rourke acknowledged with a nod before turning to wink at me. “Six.”

“Rourke,” Amelia replied evenly.

“Did Fran leave anything for dinner?” he asked as he padded over to the oven and peeked inside. “I’m fucking starving.”

“What the hell happened to you?” Amelia demanded before I could. Both of us were gaping at the bruising on the left side of Rourke’s body.

Rourke looked from her to me before shrugging. “Got my ass kicked at practice this morning.”

“You got your ass kicked?” Amelia asked incredulously.

“It happens.” Closing the oven door, he moved towards the fridge, obviously unaffected by the look of horror on both of our faces. “Fuck yeah,” he muttered happily. “Quiche.”

“Not to you, Rourke,” she was quick to point out. “You never take hits likethat.”

I remained silent, watching Rourke as he grabbed a fork from the drawer and quickly shoveled mouthfuls of quiche into his mouth.

God, he was so freaking sexy even when he was wounded.

Actually, the bruises only added to his sex appeal.

There was something primal about this boy…

“You want a piece of the quiche or a piece of me, Six?” Rourke asked with a double dimpled grin. “You’re staring real hard, girl.”

The dimples, I decided, must have come from Rourke’s mother. Neither Gabe nor Amelia sported a single one.

Mortified, I cleared my thoughts and flashed Rourke a glare. “Neither.”

“You sure you don’t wanna try a bite?” he shot back with a wolfish grin, holding out his fork towards me. “You never know; you might like it. You might even think it’s the best you’ve ever had.”

“Ugh.” Amelia cleared her throat loudly. “You’re so gross, Rourke.”

“I know I won’t,” I shot back firmly, forcing my features to remain impassive, while inside I was burning up. “I’m very selective in the quiches I taste.” Smiling sweetly, I added, “I’m sure yours tastes just the same as every other quiche in the world.”

Rourke smiled darkly in challenge. “Why don’t you come over here and check for yourself?”

“I…uh…have a lot of homework to do,” I blurted out, retreating from the kitchen, my face a deep burgundy color. I needed to get away from this guy. His mood swings were too much for me to handle. And he was too damn tempting!

Rourke threw his head back and laughed. “Rourke Jr. waiting for you upstairs?”Asshole. “Well, you know where I am if you get hungry.”

That bastard!

“Thanks,” I sneered. “But I’d rather starve.”

Rourke

“WHAT THE HELL ARE you playing at?” Six demanded, storming into my bedroom an hour later. Normally, I would have been mad as hell at anyone walking into my bedroom without knocking, but weirdly, I didn’t have a problem with this girl busting in on me.

“Taste yourquiche?” she demanded in an infuriated tone, not giving me a chance to respond to her first question. “You’re a big dick, Rourke Owens.”

Smothering a laugh, I tried to keep a straight face as Six ranted at me. It wasn’t easy though, not when she looked so fucking sexy all flustered and outraged.

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