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Christian’s fury is radiating off him like a damn heat wave.
A fury I know too well.
It’s possessive.
It’s territorial.
It’s the same rage I’d feel if some random motherfucker even looked at Megan, much less made her laugh like that.
But this?
This is where Christian is making a mistake.
My sister is not his.
And never will be.
“They seem cozy,” Vaughn comments, his voice tinged with amusement. “I wonder what they’re talking about.”
I shoot him a sharp look. He’s fanning the flames, and I don’t appreciate the shit.
Christian’s eye twitches, his body wound so tight that I half expect him to snap and tear Oliver apart right here in the middle of the damn bar.
“I’m glad they’re getting along,” I say casually, hoping to ease Christian’s frayed edges. “He’s going to be a big help in showing Lena how to?—”
“How to what?” Christian cuts in, his voice icy. “Can we cut the bullshit, please?”
I sigh heavily.
The conversation I was hoping to avoid is happening whether I want it to or not.
“Let’s take this to my office,” I say.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Then let’s talk aboutnothingin my office.”
Vaughn excuses himself to take a phone call, leaving just the two of us.
As we make our way toward the stairs, we have to pass Lena and Oliver, who are too wrapped up in their conversation to even notice us at first.
That alone should tell Christian everything he needs to know.
Lena’s eyes soften the second she sees us.
“Hi, big brother,” she says, walking over and wrapping her arms around me—a habit she’s picked up ever since we reunited.
“Hey,” I say back, my eyes flicking toward Christian, whose jaw is tight enough to crack teeth.
“You two good?” I ask her.
She grins. “Oliver might have missed his calling. He should have been a comedian. He was just telling me?—”
“We need to head to a meeting,” Christian cuts her off.
Her smile vanishes. “Well, hello to you too, Christian.”
He mutters something unintelligible.