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“Thank you,” she says softly to me and takes the heftiest gulp. Scratch that—three gulps, and just when I think she’s done, a second from taking the bottle, she holds up a finger and swallows more wine. She has a high tolerance. She’s not approaching drunk. Probably not even buzzed, and I’m glad one of us can down that much right now. I curve my arm around her chair. Waiting for when she’s ready. She finally shoves it in my opened hand. “Liquid reinforcements,” she whispers to me, wine trickling down her chin. I wipe the red liquid off with my thumb. She blushes, and our eyes attach deeper.
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He’s calm, but I can’t discount the threatening look in his eye. They’re all protective of their older sister. And I understand how they’d want to guarantee no harm invades her life. Fuckbags after targets after shitheads surround her on a daily basis, and if they need me to prove that I’m not one of them, they don’t even need to command me to jump. I’ll already be off the ground.
But she said, “Your type doesn’t usually fall for my type in popular culture.” It struck me hard. Painfully. I sent a narrowed look over my shoulder. “Why wouldn’t my type be into you?” She rolled on her side, pink sheet draped over the curve of her wide hip and belly. Wavy brown hair frizzed wildly around freckled cheeks. Her small breasts exposed and nipples perked—and my cock twitched with an aggressive, primal hunger. If she was a lion, then I was the animal that wanted to mount the fuck out of her and play around with her until she was one beautiful whimpering mess. Spent and safe and
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Jane whips her head to me, smiling. I’m not easy to push over, honey. “I just didn’t think you’d be into her,” Beckett admits, and to Jane, he says, “I owe you an apology, sis. I’m sorry.” Ben drops his feet beneath the table. “Me too.” “It’s okay,” Jane says with a warm smile. “Thank you.” Charlie pulls at his messy hair, his annoyance visible and on me. “You gave us no indication of liking our sister. I’m not apologizing for that.” I nod. “You don’t have to.”
Eliot threads his palms behind his head, lounging back. “You could teach a master class on How to Deceive a Genius.” My brows cinch in confusion. He’s impressed? Tom lifts a finger. “I’d enroll.” They both are. I glance at Jane for confirmation. She leans in and whispers, “They’re devious little devils.”
I should be happy that two out of five brothers already somewhat like me. But I’m not jumping for fucking joy that they see me as a third devil in their merry gang of terrors.
Ben lets out a pained sound. “Stop sucking his dick—” “It was just the tip,” Eliot laughs. “—he’s a liar,” Ben continues. One of them cares that I lied. Eliot is serious in a sudden flash. “Ben—” “A liar is dating our sister!” Ben motions to me. “That should worry everyone. Why am I the only one in this family who’s upset about that?” Eliot and Tom share a glance I can’t decrypt. Maybe they’re concerned about Ben or they’re more suspicious of me.
Jane scoots towards her youngest brother and gathers his hand in hers. “I lied too, Pippy. If you fault Thatcher, then you have to fault me.” Ben lets go of her hand. “I don’t know anything about him, Jane.” “We’re about to fix that,” Charlie says smoothly.
Rich, poor—I don’t care. I just want her.
At least they’re offering me a shot.
“I request a modification.” She folds her arms on the table. “I’d like it to be called: What Would We Do for Each Other?” She wants in. I almost smile. I’m not stepping on her toes or holding her back. Not unless this spins into a place that scares her to death.
I get it. I finish the game and I gain their respect or trust or both, and without wavering,
Eliot squints at the card. He has trouble reading—it’s one of the first things I had to tell new bodyguards on his detail. His dyslexia screws with how he sees letters. In the booth, he whispers in Tom’s ear, and Tom whispers back.
Charlie taps the card with his cane. “If Thatcher can’t complete this, then he’ll drown every time he’s with our family.”
“People.” Beckett calmly corrects his brother and lights another cigarette. He’s being inclusive.
But I don’t feel a need to emphasize this,
Tom rests his arm on his brother’s shoulder. “Higher than yours, Eliot.” Eliot holds the back of Tom’s head in some kind of brotherly affection. Salt scalds my eyes, a glimpse of my childhood surging hard. And fast. I see Skylar. He’s cupping my head, his smile rising. “Thatch.” I blink, and he’s gone.
Her brothers go quiet, and a wave of concern flows towards Jane. She sighs softly. “I didn’t mention this to gain sympathy. It’s just a fact.” “It’s a sad fact.” Eliot
We watch the card torch between his fingers, and Eliot never blows out the fire; it just dies in his hand. Nothing left to burn.
Tell us your favorite part of Jane’s body. My face almost screws up. I must’ve read this shit backwards or ass-fucking-sideways. Because in my head, there’s no way brothers would want to hear this shit about their sister. Jane has her knuckles to her lips, analyzing the card like it’s a chess piece. “She’s your sister.” My voice is stern. “You really want to know this?” “It’s not for our pleasure,” Charlie retorts in a tone that says, you’re a fucking idiot. I’m feeling pretty fucking stupid. Eliot outstretches his arms. “‘Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t.’”
But I’m starting to think that how I respond to the cards is telling them about who I am as much as my actual answer.
I mentally file through all of Jane’s body parts I love: Her pussy. Her hips. Love handles. Stretchmarks. Ass. Freckles. Cheeks. Legs. Arms. Hands. Breasts. Nipples. Curve of her neck. Brain. I race down literally every inch of this girl. I love every part of Jane, but I can’t say that. They’ll just see it as a cop out.
“Wait,” Ben says, anger hacksawing his blue eyes. He pivots to Charlie. “You said you’d throw out this card.”
This didn’t have to happen!”
“How would you like it if I cracked your ribcage and tore out your heart?” Charlie rips open the last buttons of his white shirt. Bare chest and toned abs in view. “Go ahead.” Eliot unpockets a switchblade, twirls the knife, and stakes it on the wooden table near Ben.
“Symbolic death and brothers might be your afternoon tea, but it’s my nightmare.” They don’t know it’s one I’ve met. Sky’s death still isn’t public fact. But I have another brother, and that nightmare exists for us. If I lost Banks… Just kill me.
You’d think Eliot and Tom Cobalt are all humor, but they can turn a switch quickly and they voice their understanding.
Ben swerves towards the bar with urgency. “Moffy!” He speaks in fluent Spanish to Maximoff, and I can’t translate that much. I wouldn’t be able to list off which other Cobalts know Spanish. Not all of them advertise the depth of their knowledge. I’m just positive that Jane only knows French. Charlie rolls his eyes in aggravation. “Maximoff can’t change this, Ben.”
He talks to Ben in Spanish, and Beckett is rubbing his younger brother’s back in soothing circles.
“Life is uncomfortable,” Charlie sneers. “Stop trying to save him.”
Ben slumps back, sullen, and he angles into Beckett. Me eating also diffuses a Charlie and Maximoff feud.
Banks extends his body halfway over the bar. Reaching the fridge beneath. On stools, Farrow and Oscar start clapping for me. Like I’m in some fucked-up, backwoods hot dog eating contest. The corner of my mouth almost lifts. “Fucking SFO,” an Epsilon bodyguard snarls under his breath.
Jane is an alpha. I love that she’s in this with me. But she has limits like everyone, and the fact that she’s ignoring them concerns the holy hell out of me. My brows knit. “What about delegating?” She likes to delegate tasks on strengths and weaknesses. She can’t stomach bloodied rabbit. I can. “This is different.” She chews slowly, then swallows. “I have to do my equal part.”
She gags instantly. One more gag and she’s puking—she starts to. I cover her mouth with my hand. What I do for love and pussy. Jane has to force down vomit. Her blue eyes flit to me with relief and appreciation. She swallows. Her cheeks radiate heat against my hand, and I’m more in love with this girl today than I was yesterday. I didn’t think that was possible. She has five hearts left to eat. I kiss her temple, and it takes ten minutes for her to eat the next two. Three more to go. I wipe her watering eyes while her dirtied hands hover mid-air. And then her phone rings, and I eye her
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It wasn’t her fault. I was a lead. That was on me. The video should’ve never existed in the first place. I put their sister on the line.
“Us, Cobalts—we’re a seven. Not a six. Yet you…you kept me from joining tonight, why? Is it because I’m untrustworthy? Because I leaked the bodyguard video? I promise you can trust me! I promise. Please, give me another—” “Stop,” Charlie groans, pinching his eyes. Jane shoots him a nasty look
“I trust you with all my heart, Audrey.” It sounds more than sincere. Like if she could, she’d die with those as her last words. I stare at Jane, my chest rising with a powerful jolt of emotion.
Beckett answers coolly, “She was with Winona and Kinney. We didn’t want all the little girls here—” “I knew it!” Winona Meadows shouts. Kinney Hale comes onto the line. “You’re all a bunch of ugly trolls! We don’t even like you—”
“We’ll talk later, I promise,” Jane says quickly. “I know they’re dreadfully annoying boys, but we’ll work this out later.” They voice their love of Jane, and she nods to me. I hang up.
“Am I sweating?” She tries to elbow a piece of hair. I tuck the flyaway behind her ear. “No.” You’re beautiful. Eating bloody rabbit hearts.
“Donnelly to SFO, I found the space babe.”
“Tell Quinn to get on comms,” Akara says, voice tight. He’s pissed.
Eliot runs a hand through his hair, then he grins. “Tell her bodyguard to tell Luna that we’d like to place an order.” Tom’s face lights.
I hand her a napkin, and we exchange a knowing look. If she needs to spit the last one out and hide it, I’ll help her cheat. Partners in crime, she once called us. That’s not long gone. Eyes brightening, Jane nods in agreement.
“They’ve been auditioning new drummers,” Eliot clarifies. “And Tom refuses to pick the best drummer for the job.” “He’s just the hottest,” Tom refutes. Eliot mouths to me, he’s the best.
Charlie is watching me. I nod to him. Confused about whether he hates me or likes me—two extremes. That’s what I feel from Charlie, and it’s strange terrain. He just smiles, then looks to Beckett. His twin brother passes the burning cigarette to Charlie. He takes a drag and blows smoke to the side before handing it back.
Jane gulps more wine. “Done!” She pounds the bottle on the table while her brothers applaud. My lip lifts and a bright smile overtakes her features. “We make a good team, don’t we?” “Hell yeah.” I eye her pink lips. Flush sneaks up her neck, and she almost touches her skirt, forgetting her hands are bloodied. I catch her wrist. Her breastbone caves. “Oh.” My cock almost hardens. Fuck. “That’s all for tonight,” Charlie tells us and tosses Jane more napkins. He stands up, cane in hand.
Charlie has an arm across the back of the booth behind Beckett, and Thatcher angles more towards me. My wingman. My right-hand. My partner in crime. My protector. My boyfriend. It feels terribly good to have him next to me, especially in case this all backfires.
I know very well how hard he works. How much he’s sacrificed for ballet. It makes this next part that much more painful.
I’ve seen his calm exterior rupture and explode quite a few times in my life, but mostly it’s only ever been to protect Charlie.
