Read Online Into the Tomorrows (Bleeding Hearts Book 1) by Whitney Barbetti - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Whitney Barbetti
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me.
His gaze was on me while the bacon popped in the pan. The longer we stood there, with his eyes on me and my eyes on the wall, the longer I felt supremely uncomfortable. “What are you staring at?” I asked, finally looking at him again.
He sniffed and his eyes narrowed slightly. It seemed like a hundred years before he spoke. “Just waiting for you to say hi back.”
I ground my teeth. “Hi back,” I managed, though my tongue was thick and heavy in my mouth.
Virile. That’s what he was. From the rounded biceps, the tight lines in his stomach to the short beard and the very singular gaze he was returning. Had a man ever looked at me like that? So entirely focused?
He looked down for a moment, long black lashes brushing the skin under his eyes. And when he looked up, he nodded at me once before turning back to the pan. “Hungry?” he asked.
Frowning, I took a seat at the breakfast bar. “You’re offering me food and you don’t even know who I am?” I hesitated only a moment. “I’m Trista.”
“I figured you were. Either that or a terrible burglar.” He looked over his shoulder at me, his features relaxing into an easy smile. “I’m Jude.”
“I figured you were Jude,” I said, repeating him. “Or Colin’s live-in cook.”
“Well, I’m pretty much that too,” he said with a laugh as he used tongs to pull the bacon off the skillet and onto a waiting plate lined with paper towels. “Are you hungry?”
I wasn’t until I’d smelled the bacon. “Yeah.”
“Yum!” The voice came from behind me and I spun around, startled, met a pair of golden brown eyes. The woman behind them smiled. “You’re Trista.”
I nodded once, watched as she walked into the kitchen and patted Jude’s back. Her hair was long, straight, black like Ellie’s. With her tanned skin and dark hair, she reminded me so much of my best friend that the ache was like a dagger dipped in acid, plunged into my belly. My hands clutched the granite countertop, trying to keep my heart from pouring out of my mouth.
“Hello,” she smiled at Jude, and then I noticed her accent. She reached for the bacon and managed to snag a piece before he gave her a steely glare. She leaned over the counter, elbows resting on the granite, staring at me. “I’m Mila,” she said, pronouncing it mee-LAH, with an accent I decided sounded Australian, accentuating the “lah” of her name. “One of the roomies.”
“Oh, hi. I like your accent,” I said and Jude looked at me over her head and rolled his eyes dramatically. I was confused by his reaction.
“Yup,” she replied, grinning as she chomped through her slice of bacon. Her teeth were shiny and white, her lips a pretty pink color. She looked like she belonged on some tropical island, climbing palm trees and throwing spears into schools of fish.
When Jude turned around and pushed her away from facing me, he said, “You’ll have to excuse the animal. She hasn’t managed to grasp the concept of manners just yet.” Mila and Jude exchanged a look and I was even more confused.
“Are you” —I pointed a finger between them— “together?” I was confused by their dynamic, by the way Mila tried unsuccessfully shoving Jude aside so that she was directly in front of me.
“Oh, gross,” Mila said with a very pronounced curl of her lip. “He’s my brother.” She jerked a thumb at Jude and swiped another piece of bacon before dancing away.
“Oh.” But I was even more confused. “And you’re Australian?” I asked, looking at Mila.
Jude sighed, leaned on the counter so he was considerably closer to me. “No, Mila’s a voice actress. She likes to try out her accents on unsuspecting people, to see if they believe it.”
Mila’s eyes glittered with humor and she pumped a fist into the air. “And I did it!” She pushed Jude completely out of the way so she was facing me again, leaning on the counter across from me. “So how long are you here for?” It was then that I saw
His gaze was on me while the bacon popped in the pan. The longer we stood there, with his eyes on me and my eyes on the wall, the longer I felt supremely uncomfortable. “What are you staring at?” I asked, finally looking at him again.
He sniffed and his eyes narrowed slightly. It seemed like a hundred years before he spoke. “Just waiting for you to say hi back.”
I ground my teeth. “Hi back,” I managed, though my tongue was thick and heavy in my mouth.
Virile. That’s what he was. From the rounded biceps, the tight lines in his stomach to the short beard and the very singular gaze he was returning. Had a man ever looked at me like that? So entirely focused?
He looked down for a moment, long black lashes brushing the skin under his eyes. And when he looked up, he nodded at me once before turning back to the pan. “Hungry?” he asked.
Frowning, I took a seat at the breakfast bar. “You’re offering me food and you don’t even know who I am?” I hesitated only a moment. “I’m Trista.”
“I figured you were. Either that or a terrible burglar.” He looked over his shoulder at me, his features relaxing into an easy smile. “I’m Jude.”
“I figured you were Jude,” I said, repeating him. “Or Colin’s live-in cook.”
“Well, I’m pretty much that too,” he said with a laugh as he used tongs to pull the bacon off the skillet and onto a waiting plate lined with paper towels. “Are you hungry?”
I wasn’t until I’d smelled the bacon. “Yeah.”
“Yum!” The voice came from behind me and I spun around, startled, met a pair of golden brown eyes. The woman behind them smiled. “You’re Trista.”
I nodded once, watched as she walked into the kitchen and patted Jude’s back. Her hair was long, straight, black like Ellie’s. With her tanned skin and dark hair, she reminded me so much of my best friend that the ache was like a dagger dipped in acid, plunged into my belly. My hands clutched the granite countertop, trying to keep my heart from pouring out of my mouth.
“Hello,” she smiled at Jude, and then I noticed her accent. She reached for the bacon and managed to snag a piece before he gave her a steely glare. She leaned over the counter, elbows resting on the granite, staring at me. “I’m Mila,” she said, pronouncing it mee-LAH, with an accent I decided sounded Australian, accentuating the “lah” of her name. “One of the roomies.”
“Oh, hi. I like your accent,” I said and Jude looked at me over her head and rolled his eyes dramatically. I was confused by his reaction.
“Yup,” she replied, grinning as she chomped through her slice of bacon. Her teeth were shiny and white, her lips a pretty pink color. She looked like she belonged on some tropical island, climbing palm trees and throwing spears into schools of fish.
When Jude turned around and pushed her away from facing me, he said, “You’ll have to excuse the animal. She hasn’t managed to grasp the concept of manners just yet.” Mila and Jude exchanged a look and I was even more confused.
“Are you” —I pointed a finger between them— “together?” I was confused by their dynamic, by the way Mila tried unsuccessfully shoving Jude aside so that she was directly in front of me.
“Oh, gross,” Mila said with a very pronounced curl of her lip. “He’s my brother.” She jerked a thumb at Jude and swiped another piece of bacon before dancing away.
“Oh.” But I was even more confused. “And you’re Australian?” I asked, looking at Mila.
Jude sighed, leaned on the counter so he was considerably closer to me. “No, Mila’s a voice actress. She likes to try out her accents on unsuspecting people, to see if they believe it.”
Mila’s eyes glittered with humor and she pumped a fist into the air. “And I did it!” She pushed Jude completely out of the way so she was facing me again, leaning on the counter across from me. “So how long are you here for?” It was then that I saw
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