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There’s something in his voice I don’t like, an undertone that’s dangerous.
“You two act like we don’t know what’s going on. But you might as well stop wasting your time with other people and move forward with your marriage.”
“Perhaps we should change the rules a bit and move the date of the marriage closer.”
My body tenses at the suggestion, white noise filling my head as Mason argues with our parents all the way to my house where I can finally escape the car.
Thankfully, I’m not being forced to go to the post-funeral reception at the Cross mansion.
Dropped off at the door to the children’s wing of my house, I practically run inside, wishing this day would just end and everything could go back to some semblance of normal.
As I walk past Dylan’s room, I notice him sitting on his bed, his phone in hand as he scrolls his thumb over the screen. He hasn’t had any friends over lately, hasn’t been his usual self. And I haven’t had a chance to talk to him since the night he attacked Ezra in my defense.
Leaning my shoulder against the doorframe, I knock my knuckles against the wood to get his attention. He glances over at me, his face a blank expression.
“You okay?” I ask, more worried about him than I realized.
Dylan cocks a brow and nods his head, a quiet dismissal of the question.
I won’t let it go.
“I want to thank you for trying to help me with Ezra when we had that fight. I haven’t had a chance to tell you.”
“It was nothing,” he mumbles, his eyes back on the screen of his phone.
“Why haven’t you had your friends over lately? Is something going on?”
No, I can’t expect Dylan and I to be best friends so quickly, but what kind of sister would I be if I didn’t ask about his sudden change in behavior?
Rather than answering me, Dylan gets up from his bed and walks over. I have to crane my neck to look up at him. He’s just as tall as Ezra.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he says with a weak smile...just before shutting the door in my face.
After standing there debating whether I should open it and demand answers, I decide to leave it alone for now. He’ll tell me when he’s ready. That or he’ll go back to being a jerk.
I spend the next few hours half asleep in bed, the mattress dipping behind me after Ezra sneaks in my room later to hug me from behind.
He tugs my body against his, warm lips pressed to the side of my neck, his arm a steel band around my waist.
“How was the reception?” I ask, my voice soft against the quiet room and his feral energy.
“It was what you would expect it to be,” he whispers against my ear, a hand slipping up my shirt to cup my breast.
Ezra’s hips roll behind me, his teeth softly nipping at the back of my neck after he brushes my hair away.
Instantly, my body melts against him, my mind short-circuiting at the sheer masculine strength of him.
I want to ask about Damon, but when his fingers pinch my nipple and he grinds his erection against my ass, I decide it’s a subject that can wait.
Still, one thing needs to be said before I forget to tell him.
“They’re moving up the wedding date.”
His body stills, a low growl vibrating his chest. “Mason told me.”
“What should we do?”
Ezra rolls me onto my back and moves so that he’s between my legs. He rocks his hips forward and naked heat explodes through my body.