by C. M. Owens
“I’m stuck on the part where you said you found out Britt isn’t gay. How exactly did you find out?” Kode asks me, eyes narrowing.
“I asked,” I say simply, keeping my smile in place.
“Want to see my garage?” Dane asks me seriously.
“I think I’ll pass,” I say with a growing smile. “Windows or windshields or whatever are usually much harder to break than simply bumping into them. Something tells me there’s not a fair chance in there to walk away without doing priceless damage that you, of course, know I can’t possibly afford.”
“Let’s take a ride,” Kode says with a cold smile.
“Again, I’ll pass.” My eyes flick to the girls, who are all watching like they’re expecting me to dart away at any moment. I’m rather underwhelmed with their methods so far. “Just curious, what’s the longest anyone has made it?”
“Anyone who came here to use Britt, take advantage of Britt, or probably hurt Britt has left before the forty-five minute mark,” Dale points out with a very non-friendly smile of his own.
“I’m assuming no guy has made it past that mark then,” I say, still meeting their angry glares with my nicest nice-guy smile I have. Mostly to be a dick.
People hate it when you smile at them while they plot your death.
However, these aren’t thugs or mafia guys. They’re not going to drag me to a dungeon and pop my bones out of place. They’re also not merciless bastards. They’re just average guys who have been pampered their entire lives.
“I know two label heads very personally who owe me favors,” Kode says seriously, throwing down that monetary gauntlet I’ve been anticipating.
Sitting up, I place my elbows on the table. “So does Tag. I turned down his offer, and it didn’t even have strings attached,” I tell him.
“I bet you’d love a new guitar to make music on. Maybe even studio time to lay down tracks—”
I pause Corbin’s monetary gauntlet with a hand up. “Lay down tracks? How old are you?”
He glares at me.
“Studio time is expensive,” Maverick goes on, picking up where Corbin left off.
“Good thing I have a tab with Tag. Any money he puts into my career, I pay back—with interest—in installments,” I tell them, watching as they all swing an accusatory glare toward Tag. “He went to my fucking mother and she made me do this.”
Looking over my shoulder, I see Tag trying not to smirk as he pretends he doesn’t notice them glowering his way.
“But you admit this would be an easy choice if you didn’t have Tag backing you,” Maverick says, bringing his eyes back to mine.
“I wouldn’t have bothered driving over here if I thought I was the kind of guy to take a bribe and walk away from a friend so I could cash in,” I tell them.
“Friend,” Dale scoffs. “You already admitted to me you were interested.”
“And you didn’t tell us?” Kode snaps.
“I let him think she was gay,” Dale defends. “How was I supposed to know he’s this persistent? I thought he’d be like Maverick and move on in the next breath. Guys like him aren’t supposed to have attention spans this big.”
“Hey,” Maverick says, throwing a hand up like he’s been insulted.
“Sorry. Like Maverick used to be,” Dale amends, much to my amusement.
“Still offended, because it had nothing to do with my attention span,” Maverick decides to argue.
“I think we’re losing touch with the real issue at hand,” Corbin says, gesturing toward me.
It’s like a little sitcom I’ve been missing out on. I assumed there’d be champagne flutes, penguin suits, and sticks shoved up asses. I’ve never seen the Sterlings this relaxed and…semi-normal.
What’s normal really?
“I’m that issue,” I state, as though everyone needs a reminder. “And there’s not really any way to deal with me.”
“Siri, where’s the best place near me to hide a body?” Maverick asks his phone.
“Very funny,” Siri replies, while I give him an incredulous look.
“I’ll see if Alexa is more helpful,” Corbin says, turning and walking toward the house.
“He’s kidding, right?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow and wondering just how crazy they really are.
They all just stare at me, unblinking. They’re full of shit.
Back to grinning, I shake my head.
“Given the fact no guy has made it through these tactics, I’m no longer surprised Britt’s still a virgin. Apparently, you’re keeping her isolated to the dickbag circles.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Rye says under his breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “The guy really does want to die.”
“He’s saying we suck at intimidation,” Maverick states flatly, eyes passing over me like he wants the miracle solution to making me vanish.
“And bribery. You suck at that too,” I remind him as I stand up, peering over at Britt again.
Her back is to me now, and some of the girls have dispersed.
Some kid eyes me up and down as I pass him, appearing as though he’s sizing me up for whatever reason. Weird.
Britt stands and immediately comes toward me, as the girls—who are subtly inching closer—pretend they’re not trying to listen in.
“Why are you here?” she asks me seriously. “And later will you tell me what they say to the guys? They don’t know I know.”
Never does she say anything I expect her to, and my grin starts before I can stop it. A chorus of audible feminine awwwws, has me lifting my eyes. At least five heads snap away, hair of all colors flying as they all go back to pretending they’re not listening.
“You’re over here betting on them making the guys leave; I saw you throw money in. Yet they don’t know you’re betting?”
“To be fair, the betting just started happening at the past two gatherings, and she didn’t join in until today,” Rain says, then clears her throat, whistles, and goes back to pretending she’s not listening.
“Things usually happen around me that I don’t bother asking someone to explain,” Britt tells me, as though it should be obvious. “So me betting just means I’m joining in. It doesn’t mean I know why.”
“Why wouldn’t you ask why?” I volley, unable to stop myself from smiling more.
“Because sometimes it’s more fun to pretend you know why and try to guess the real reason why when people discuss it in the vague abstract around you.”
My hand comes up, and my finger runs down the column of her throat as I study her eyes, full of curiosity and intrigue, brimming with more awareness than she credits herself for having.
“I’ll tell you what they said as long as you promise no more dates while I’m around.”
I expect more awws, but I look up to see some incredulous eyes on me, as though I’ve said the wrong thing. Do they really need me to prove I’m stupidly jealous?
I have bartering options, and I’m not above using them.
Britt starts to speak, when Rain says, “I’m sorry, did you just ask her not to date while you try to decide how you feel?”
“No?” I say, though for some stupid reason it feels like a question.
Ash even looks pissed at me. She never looks pissed at me. Hell, she fucking adores me. Drives Tag insane from time to time.
“Are you going to be dating anyone, kissing random girls, or flirting with anyone else while you’re hanging out with Britt?” Tria asks, not seeming as sweet as usual.
Five angry Sterling men did nothing but amuse me.
Fucking women here are understatedly vicious. You can sense it rather than see it. It’s like they want you to hear what an idiot you sound like, so that you know why they’re glaring.
Yet they’re not actually being truly abrasive. It’s the subtlety that makes you feel like taking a step or two back.
“No,” I say with decidedly infinite confidence that it’s the right answer, as well as the truthful one.
They study me for a minute, then look away, resuming the courtesy of pretending not to listen.
Relaxing a little, I look back to find Britt just staring at me, waiting her turn to interject on the matter. “Only if you agree not to play with my head.” She says this as though she’s been coached.
“I swear to you, I’m not trying to play with your head.”
“Damn it,” Maverick’s girlfriend—um…Salem?—says as she glances at her phone. Then Salem straightens, blinking rapidly. “Actually, I guess that’s a good thing.”
“Salem finally lost one, so there’s hope,” Harley says idly.
“Any chance we can talk somewhere more private?” I ask Britt, even as one side of my lips tug in a reluctant smile.
How can I not somewhat laugh at this? You don’t picture the Sterlings being this way.
You expect pompous, arrogant, pretentious, snobby rich people.
I almost wish I had come over all those times Tag invited me now. Maybe then I could understand half of what they’re saying.
She walks off to the side with me, and I lean up against the privacy fence as she stops very close, unknowingly showing them all how comfortable she is with me. Dane starts toward us and stops at least three times, but I barely notice him from my peripheral.
“I’m sorry about last night. Things got out of hand, and I tried to play it off—and came off like a bit of a dick without realizing it. But I’d already lost control by the time we hit the bed,” I tell her, giving her back some of that honesty she shares so freely.
She just stares at me for a minute. “Why’d you come today?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I tell her on a long breath, hesitating. “In a few months, I have to go on tour. We’ll be on the road for eight months to a year, depending on if we get to open at the larger events near the end. Sometimes you lose your spot at the really big ones because of someone else’s pull.”
“I know you’re leaving. Ash told me tonight,” she states, frowning. “Why are both of you telling me in the same night?”
This is one of those times where I wish I didn’t have to be direct. I’d like to skate around the topic, so it doesn’t sound as dickish as it really is.
In other words, Britt, I can be all yours for exactly three months before I go back to my one true love—music. I’ll also be seeing you in between other musical interruptions. But you can totally be a mistress until I leave, as long as you can work around my schedule.
“So, what about Tommy leaving?” I ask in deflection. “You want to know how they got rid of him?”
She grins. “None of the girls know how. They thought it was threats, but it has to be more.”
“I’ll tell you all about it when they’re not glaring at me from across the yard, deciding if they can get away with just a little bodily harm or not,” I deadpan.
She looks over at them and back to me.
“They’re having a difficult time distinguishing what a date is tonight. I feel I should warn you that I think they intend to sabotage you.”
My grin grows again, and this time I get some awwwwws. Which means…
My eyes lift to see at least five of the women have moved in closer, even though they’re still pretending not to listen.
Unbelievable.
They’re nosier than Sticks and Taylor.
“You really have some weird timing on the awws,” I state flatly.
“So it’s not just weird to me?” Britt muses, looking around.
Rain stifles a grin, and Harley does as well.
Apparently we’re both on the outside of this inside joke.
“Britt!” Dane finally calls.
She looks over, and he gestures for her to join him.
“This is the part where they separate me from you and then you mysteriously go missing,” she tells me. “Remember that I’m not supposed to know,” she adds with a small grin, as though I’m now in on the conspiracy.
“At some point, you should probably get them back.”
“I do. They just don’t know it,” she states with a larger smile.
“What do you do?”
“When I run into them at stores, I make sure to buy condoms and lubrication,” she tells me proudly, even though it’s spoken in a conspiratorial whisper. “Then I start talking about my plans for the items mentioned until they beg me to stop talking.”
I choke back a laugh, tilting my head. “Every time?” I ask her.
“The first few times were done unwittingly, but now it’s done on purpose. That’s why I have three drawers full. I find it weird they haven’t questioned it by now.”
Tria snorts, turning so her body shakes with silent laughter. A few more women are doing the same.
“Oh, that’s priceless. Why am I just finding out?” Salem asks, struggling not to laugh.
“This is actually the first time I’ve heard of that too,” Harley says, her mouth gaping even as she smiles.
“Maybe you should have been applying your eavesdropping skills sooner,” I quip.
Salem works harder not to laugh, and Harley just shakes her head. Salem finally gives up and heads over to that weird kid, who is…still sizing me up. I swear I’m not making that up.
“Britt!” Dane says louder, fortunately too far away to know what’s going on.
“Let them divide and conquer. I’ll find you when round two is over,” I tell her.
She hesitates, her eyes flicking to me as though she has something else she wants to say.
“What?” I prompt.
“They’ve often had to apologize for me when I use inappropriate conversation to an offensive degree—for lack of social refinement that I’m still adapting to,” she says, confusing me.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
She glances around. “This is the first time I’ve felt the urge to apologize for them. I’m not sure really what to say, other than I’m certain they won’t actually cause you physical harm. And I’m sorry.”
I wipe away my smile, trying to keep a straight face.
“Not the first time I’ve dealt with big brothers.”
“I technically only have one brother,” she points out.
I pat her hand, winking at her. “I’m aware.”
She hesitates again, then finally walks off. Reluctantly.
Ash is immediately at my side. “Please be careful with her,” she cautions.
“I told her I have three months until I leave for tour. I stopped, because it suddenly sounded like a cheesy line used in cheesy sailor films before they headed out to sea for months.”
She stifles whatever sound she makes—definitely a laugh.
“Just do me a favor.”
“Only if that favor has nothing to do with the bet,” I tell her, causing her to suck in an indignant breath.
I glance over at her, and she drops the act, shrugging unapologetically. “I never win anything. I don’t want you to run off, but if you decide you’d like to run off, do it in the next five minutes or not at all.”
She walks away, and I turn just as Maverick Sterling approaches, a smirk on his lips as he guides the weird kid toward me.
“I’d like you to meet Sean. Sean is in your life more than anyone would ever realize. Remember that. For now, Sean needs to borrow your phone so he can use it to find his,” Maverick says very seriously, as though he’s delivering devastating news.
My eyes flick to Sean, who looks exasperated, then to Maverick, who looks expectant. “I think I’ll pass,” I state, arching an eyebrow at him.
“This is Maverick,” the kid says, lazily gesturing to said Sterling, as he rolls his head so that his eyes can meet Mav’s. “Maverick’s an idiot.”
I…just stare at them for a second, unsure if I’m allowed to have a reaction until someone else does.
Rain snorts, then coughs over a laugh, then snorts again. Kode turns away, his entire body shaking with laughter. Sean meant to say that as loudly as he could, I think.
> Dane even struggles to hold a straight face, which he is apparently determined to attempt.
“Just this once, could you be on my side?” Maverick bites out.
The kid smirks. “You make it too easy.”
Then the kid looks at me, rakes his eyes over me from head to toe with an unimpressed expression, and finally meets my gaze.
“You’re here with Britt?” he asks me.
“Are you the new squire?” I ask him instead of answering, when his name rattles around in my head. At least I can find some common ground with him, maybe.
He smirks. “Yeah.”
The way he says it is…no. I’m wrong. Have to be.
“What are you a squire for?” Maverick asks, confused.
“For the fire-hot Valkyrie Princess with the flaming red hair. She’s legendary on the boards. Her avatar has brighter red hair than she does, but most everything else is accurate, including her cleavage, and she’s the most coveted princess on the games,” the kid says, causing me to work real damn hard not to…react at all. “And I’m establishing a pivotal, bonding memory to set up camp in times where she was younger and happier. It’s called groundwork.”
Maverick and I exchange a confused glance, before returning our attention to the cocky, pre-pubescent kid.
“So in six years, when we happen to bump into each other somewhere neutral, I won’t be Sean, Maverick’s little stepbrother. I’ll be Sean; the guy who makes her think of a great time in her life, when she was at the highlight of her gaming presence. Sean—the short kid who grew into an irresistible man. Sean—the constant, subtle, dependable presence in her life.”
I have no clue how to react. Still. Like not even a little bit.
“I really hope I’m not hearing you right,” Maverick tells him, disbelief mixing in with adequate horror.
“Why six years?” I decide to ask, when Sean just smirks unapologetically at Maverick.
The kid levels me with a smug look. “Because I’ll be legal. Duh. Then she’s mine.”
This kid is twelve?!
“You know she’s like my sister, right? So it’s crossing a line to talk about her like this,” Maverick growls, eyes solely on Sean now.
Sean arches an eyebrow. “You’re currently banging my sister, so you can’t really use that argument.”
