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Cal: THIS, from a woman who claims to be my bff.
Row: I’m flying back to New York RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW.
Cal: I am never going to not be mad at you for keeping this from me btw.
Cal: I am so disappointed you didn’t tell me.
Kieran: You are in so much trouble, sweetheart.
Kieran: Offer still stands if you want to do some damage control by marrying a man who is not the biggest man-whore on the planet.
Heart pounding, sight blurry, I clicked on the attachments my brother had sent. Three pictures came into focus. They were almost identical and showed me and Rhyland in my living room yesterday, my legs wrapped around his waist, his hand shoved down the front of my jeans, obviously fingering me. My fingerswere greedily clutching the back of his head, bringing him in to deepen our dirty, tongue-filled kiss.
With a sigh of exasperation, I fell back on the pillow, covering my eyes with my arm and groaning.
My entire social circle had pretty much seen stills of a sex tape of mine.
And then another.
Row: How did Tucker get my number?
My guess was that the picture had been sent to the three of them simultaneously. Tucker knew my closest circle—Cal, Row, and Kieran. He must’ve grabbed their contacts during one of the million times my phone was there in plain sight when we had a shift at the Alchemist together, still unlocked from when I’d been messing with it. He was just waiting for the opportunity to do something like this and ruin things for me.
Tucker knew this was going to detonate my world, and he felt vengeful.
An incoming call from Cal made my phone dance in my hand. I swiped the screen, holding my breath and bracing myself.
“Young lady, explain yourself,” my best friend demanded.
“It’s nothing serious, okay?” I said grumpily, rubbing my eyes with a yawn. “We played pretend for Bruce Marshall, and somewhere along the way…well, we decided to enjoy the perks.”
“Is getting shot in the ass a perk?” my brother demanded from beside Cal.
Oh great. I was on speaker.
“Because that’s the kind of bonus Rhyland’s about to deal with.”
A part of me—and not a small one—wanted to apologize for my behavior. For the elusive betrayal. But a much, much bigger part of me knew that doing so would simply give my brother more power than he already had over the situation.
I was an adult. I made decisions. Not all of them were great. But all of them were mine.
“I will hear no criticism from you.” My voice was an ice cube dragging over skin, it was so cold. The other end of the line was silent. “I did not break any bond with you, any secret bro code. I am your sister. I love you to death, Ambrose, but you have to stop pretending you have control over my life. You don’t. I will fuck whoever I want, however much I want, wherever I want. I will not ask for permission, and I sure as hell won’t answer to you. Are we clear?”
My brother grunted on the other end of the line. “Fine. Fine. I’ll stop pushing. It’s just…it’s hard, okay?” Another dark growl. “It’s a force of habit. I spent my entire childhood terrified Dad was going to hurt you. Somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that if you listened to me, things would be…okay, you know?”
“I know.” My voice softened, but my anger remained. “Still, Row. Enough is enough.”
“I’ve been doing very well these past few years, though, haven’t I? I barely boss you around.”
“You shouldn’t be bossing me around at all.”
“Well, there is my shitty personality to take into account.”
Cal snorted. “How’d it all start—this thing with Rhy? Is it serious?”
“We just…I don’t know, got very comfortable around each other,” I confessed. The alternative—telling them I propositioned him the day I got here—was not ideal. “And no, it’s not serious. Rhyland is gearing up for some big things, and so am I. A relationship doesn’t fit in with them.”
“Does this mean what I think it means?” Row asked.