Page 68 of Burn Bright

I watch Charlie rise while reading, and without looking, he scoops up the fallen book and slides it on one of Tom’s shelves. “Your theory about the color isn’t going to amount to anything,” Charlie says. “Move on to?—”

“Don’t tell me,” Tom whisper-hisses. “Dude, you promised you wouldn’t help until an hour in. What gives?”

“You’re taking too long,” Charlie sneers. “Hurry.”

Tom doesn’t see me staring, and Eliot has uncorked a cabernet. He drinks from the bottle of wine while making leisure laps around the parlor.

Yeah, only Harriet seems intent on figuring out how to open the padlock. She’s filling vials with a glittery pink liquid from a carafe, then balances them on a brass scale.

“Wejustgot here,” Tom tells Charlie, not quietly enough. “You can’t solve this in under five minutes flat like last time. A—it’s no fun, and B—this is literally theonlynight we’ve gotten him to come out with us.”

Guilt returns like a sledgehammer.

Charlie is glaring at Tom like he’s the problem now.

“Chill, dude,” Tom retorts. “We’re all doing things we don’t want to do tonight. You think I love being locked in a room with her?”

Harriet isn’t listening. She’s now pouring liquid outof a bulbous glass vial.

My pulse beats harder in my ears.

“Your issues with her can be resolved in a handful of different ways,” Charlie says, “but you choose to harbor animositybecause you don’t enjoy life withoutconflict.You and Eliot thriveon strife.”

“You are the main supplier,” Tom quips with an impish grin, never letting Charlie dig under his skin. “You hear that, Eliot Alice? Charlie’s got us clocked. We thrive on strife.”

“Trouble is empty without us,” Eliot decrees, then swigs wine and flips another book onto the floor.

Charlie looks thoroughly annoyed. Which causes Tom to grin even wider. “Don’t start a war you can’t win, Charlie Keating.”

“There is no winner in a war against brothers,” Charlie says plainly, and briefly, so very briefly, his eyes reach mine. It knocks me back a step, and I shift around, not sure what I feel other than this amalgamation of guilt, hurt, longing, and fear.

“Truer words,” Eliot golf claps against the wine bottle.

I move out of Harriet’s way so I don’t impede her pursuit of a new vial. My chest is tight, especially as Beckett shuts his eyes. Charlie sees him, then tells Tom, “Let me solve this?—”

“Charlie, I’m fine,” Beckett cuts in, massaging his temple with the cigarette between two fingers. He opens his eyes on him. “We don’t need to rush out of here.”

“Isn’t that the point?” I interject, feeling their attention redirect on me. I glance from each of my brothers. “We should want toescape.”

“We just want to spend some quality time with you, Ben Pirrip,” Tom says.

I open my mouth to say there are better ways, but are there? They’ve orchestrated this for me. To be with me. Because I keep shoving them away at every turn. So many people would begfor one brother who’d go through this amount of effort to be with them—and I have four.

Yeah, even Charlie. Though, he likely got dragged here by Beckett.

I meet Harriet’s eyes while she corks a vial.Ruthless love, she once said about my family. She’s never known love this deep, and I hate that I can’t even let myself enjoy this time with them.

I can’t relax.

Relax. Enjoy this.“Yeah, that’s what we’re doing,” I tell them. “I’m here.”

Eliot raises his bottle by the neck. “A cause for celebration.” After a large swig, he hands me the wine. I take a swig too, the rich liquid going down smooth, and I offer some to Harriet.

She surprisingly sips from the bottle, then licks the red residue off her lips.I want to kiss her.The blip of a thought skips my pulse.

Looking away, I laugh when Eliot jumps on a towering stack of books and nearly busts his ass, but he manages to catch his balance.

Tom cackles too. Then laughter streams from Beckett, and the lively noise fills my lungs in ways I love. For a second, I even think Charlie might have a shadow of a smile.