“Okay,” she echoes, but she doesn’t sound convinced.
A high-pitched shriek from the pool has us turning our heads toward the shallow end, where Seb is attempting to undo the strings of Lauren’s bikini.
“Sebastian Royal! Don’t you dare!” But she’s sputtering with laughter as she tries to swim away from my little brother.
Sawyer swims up behind her and hauls her into his arms, and the Lauren beach-ball toss starts up again.
East leans over his chair and lowers his voice. “How do you think it works?”
Ella narrows her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Lauren and the twins. Think it’s a two-on-one sorta thing, or one at a time?”
“I honestly don’t want to know,” Ella says frankly.
Neither do I. I’ve never questioned Seb and Sawyer about their relationships. Lauren is Sawyer’s girlfriend in the eyes of the outside world, but I have no clue what goes on behind closed doors.
Footsteps sound behind us, and I tense up again when my father appears on the deck. “Reed. How are you doing?”
“All good,” I answer without looking at him.
An uncomfortable silence settles over the deck. I haven’t been able to look my dad in the eye since Ella told me that she’d talked to him. She was shame-faced and nervous when she came to the hospital this morning, and the confession poured out of her while I sat there fighting equal doses of guilt and amazement.
My dad knows about Brooke. And me. According to Ella, he’s known for weeks—and he didn’t say a word to me about it. I guess that’s the Royal way, though. Avoid the tough shit. Don’t talk about your feelings. And a part of me is grateful for that. I don’t know how I’ll react if Dad brings it up to me. He hasn’t yet, but Ella told me about the paternity test he scheduled, so sooner or later he’ll have to say something, right?
That’s going to be one awkward conversation. I’m happy to postpone it for as long as possible.
Dad clears his throat. “You kids finishing up soon?” He glances at the pool and then the loungers. “I thought we’d all go out to dinner. The jet’s all fueled up and ready when we are.”
“The jet?” In the shallow end, Lauren’s eyes grow larger than saucers. “Where are we going?”
Callum smiles at her. “D.C. I thought it’d be a nice treat for everyone.” He turns to Ella. “Have you ever been to D.C.?”
She shakes her head. And from the pool, I hear Lauren hiss to the twins, “Who flies to another state for dinner?”
“The Royals,” Sawyer murmurs back.
“I don’t think I’m up for that,” I admit. My tone is grudging because I hate revealing weakness, but the painkillers are wearing off. The thought of getting up and flying somewhere doesn’t appeal to me at all. “You guys can go ahead, though. I’m cool staying behind.”
“I’m staying behind, too,” Ella says immediately.
I touch her knee, and I don’t miss the way Dad’s gaze tracks the movement of my hand. “No, go with them,” I say gruffly. “You’ve been glued to my side since seven in the morning. You need a change of scenery.”
She doesn’t look happy. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Ah, he’ll be fine,” East says. He’s already hopping off his chair, which doesn’t surprise me. I’ve noticed him getting stir crazy all day. Easton’s not cut out for sitting around and doing nothing.
“Go,” I urge Ella. “You’ll love D.C., trust me.”
“Come on, little sis, we’ll get to see the Washington Monument from the air,” Easton says coaxingly. “It looks like a huge dick.”
“Easton,” Callum chides.
Eventually we manage to wear her down, and everyone scatters to get changed for dinner. I move from the lounger to the couch in the game room, which is where Ella finds me twenty minutes later.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?” She bites her lip in dismay.
I hold up the remote. “I’m fine, babe. Just gonna watch a game and then take a nap or something.”
She comes over and gives me a soft kiss on the lips. “Promise to call me if you need anything? I’ll force Callum to fly us right back.”
“I promise,” I answer, mostly just to humor her.
After another kiss, she leaves. I hear footsteps and voices in the foyer, and then the noise dies off and the house becomes as quiet as a tomb.
I stretch out on the couch and focus on the screen, watching as Carolina scores touchdown after touchdown on the inept New Orleans defense. As much as I like seeing my team winning, it’s just a reminder that I’m going to miss at least two playoffs game with the Riders and that bums me out.
Sighing, I turn the TV off and decide to take a nap, but my phone rings before I can close my eyes.
It’s Brooke.
Shit.
Since I know she’ll send a barrage of text messages if I don’t pick up, I press the talk button and mutter, “What do you want?”
“I just got back from Paris. Can we talk?”
She sounds oddly subdued, which instantly raises my guard. “I thought you weren’t back ’til next week.”
“I’m home early. So sue me.”
Yeah, she’s definitely rattled. I sit up gingerly. “I’m not interested in hearing anything you have to say. So go bother someone else.”
“Wait! Don’t hang up.” A shaky breath echoes over the line. “I’m ready to deal.”
My shoulders stiffen. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Just come over so we can talk,” Brooke begs. “You and me, Reed. Don’t bring Ella or one of your brothers.”
I chuckle. “If this is your way of trying to seduce me—”
“I don’t want to seduce you, you little asshole!” She takes another breath, like she’s trying to calm herself. “I want to make a deal. So unless you’ve changed your mind about wanting me gone, I suggest you get your ass over here.”
My distrust only grows. She’s obviously up to something, playing another game I have no interest in playing.
But… if there’s the slightest chance she’s being real right now, can I really ignore this?
I hesitate for several seconds before answering. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
A high-pitched shriek from the pool has us turning our heads toward the shallow end, where Seb is attempting to undo the strings of Lauren’s bikini.
“Sebastian Royal! Don’t you dare!” But she’s sputtering with laughter as she tries to swim away from my little brother.
Sawyer swims up behind her and hauls her into his arms, and the Lauren beach-ball toss starts up again.
East leans over his chair and lowers his voice. “How do you think it works?”
Ella narrows her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Lauren and the twins. Think it’s a two-on-one sorta thing, or one at a time?”
“I honestly don’t want to know,” Ella says frankly.
Neither do I. I’ve never questioned Seb and Sawyer about their relationships. Lauren is Sawyer’s girlfriend in the eyes of the outside world, but I have no clue what goes on behind closed doors.
Footsteps sound behind us, and I tense up again when my father appears on the deck. “Reed. How are you doing?”
“All good,” I answer without looking at him.
An uncomfortable silence settles over the deck. I haven’t been able to look my dad in the eye since Ella told me that she’d talked to him. She was shame-faced and nervous when she came to the hospital this morning, and the confession poured out of her while I sat there fighting equal doses of guilt and amazement.
My dad knows about Brooke. And me. According to Ella, he’s known for weeks—and he didn’t say a word to me about it. I guess that’s the Royal way, though. Avoid the tough shit. Don’t talk about your feelings. And a part of me is grateful for that. I don’t know how I’ll react if Dad brings it up to me. He hasn’t yet, but Ella told me about the paternity test he scheduled, so sooner or later he’ll have to say something, right?
That’s going to be one awkward conversation. I’m happy to postpone it for as long as possible.
Dad clears his throat. “You kids finishing up soon?” He glances at the pool and then the loungers. “I thought we’d all go out to dinner. The jet’s all fueled up and ready when we are.”
“The jet?” In the shallow end, Lauren’s eyes grow larger than saucers. “Where are we going?”
Callum smiles at her. “D.C. I thought it’d be a nice treat for everyone.” He turns to Ella. “Have you ever been to D.C.?”
She shakes her head. And from the pool, I hear Lauren hiss to the twins, “Who flies to another state for dinner?”
“The Royals,” Sawyer murmurs back.
“I don’t think I’m up for that,” I admit. My tone is grudging because I hate revealing weakness, but the painkillers are wearing off. The thought of getting up and flying somewhere doesn’t appeal to me at all. “You guys can go ahead, though. I’m cool staying behind.”
“I’m staying behind, too,” Ella says immediately.
I touch her knee, and I don’t miss the way Dad’s gaze tracks the movement of my hand. “No, go with them,” I say gruffly. “You’ve been glued to my side since seven in the morning. You need a change of scenery.”
She doesn’t look happy. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Ah, he’ll be fine,” East says. He’s already hopping off his chair, which doesn’t surprise me. I’ve noticed him getting stir crazy all day. Easton’s not cut out for sitting around and doing nothing.
“Go,” I urge Ella. “You’ll love D.C., trust me.”
“Come on, little sis, we’ll get to see the Washington Monument from the air,” Easton says coaxingly. “It looks like a huge dick.”
“Easton,” Callum chides.
Eventually we manage to wear her down, and everyone scatters to get changed for dinner. I move from the lounger to the couch in the game room, which is where Ella finds me twenty minutes later.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?” She bites her lip in dismay.
I hold up the remote. “I’m fine, babe. Just gonna watch a game and then take a nap or something.”
She comes over and gives me a soft kiss on the lips. “Promise to call me if you need anything? I’ll force Callum to fly us right back.”
“I promise,” I answer, mostly just to humor her.
After another kiss, she leaves. I hear footsteps and voices in the foyer, and then the noise dies off and the house becomes as quiet as a tomb.
I stretch out on the couch and focus on the screen, watching as Carolina scores touchdown after touchdown on the inept New Orleans defense. As much as I like seeing my team winning, it’s just a reminder that I’m going to miss at least two playoffs game with the Riders and that bums me out.
Sighing, I turn the TV off and decide to take a nap, but my phone rings before I can close my eyes.
It’s Brooke.
Shit.
Since I know she’ll send a barrage of text messages if I don’t pick up, I press the talk button and mutter, “What do you want?”
“I just got back from Paris. Can we talk?”
She sounds oddly subdued, which instantly raises my guard. “I thought you weren’t back ’til next week.”
“I’m home early. So sue me.”
Yeah, she’s definitely rattled. I sit up gingerly. “I’m not interested in hearing anything you have to say. So go bother someone else.”
“Wait! Don’t hang up.” A shaky breath echoes over the line. “I’m ready to deal.”
My shoulders stiffen. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Just come over so we can talk,” Brooke begs. “You and me, Reed. Don’t bring Ella or one of your brothers.”
I chuckle. “If this is your way of trying to seduce me—”
“I don’t want to seduce you, you little asshole!” She takes another breath, like she’s trying to calm herself. “I want to make a deal. So unless you’ve changed your mind about wanting me gone, I suggest you get your ass over here.”
My distrust only grows. She’s obviously up to something, playing another game I have no interest in playing.
But… if there’s the slightest chance she’s being real right now, can I really ignore this?
I hesitate for several seconds before answering. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
