Page 31 of Casual Felonies (Wildlings #1)

TRUETT

Rami and I walk out into the living room to find H and H on the couch with Maya, all three drinking coffee.

Maya sends us a sour look and Holmes wears a bemused smile that looks so much like Mav’s shit-eating grin it’s crazy. Honoré teases, “You do know these walls aren’t one hundred percent soundproof, right?”

I send Rami a pained look, but he shoots his cousin the finger and leans in to kiss my temple. He actually looks a little proud of himself.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” he says as Honoré returns the gesture with a smile. “Besides, why are y’all up already?”

“We’re on Rami duty,” Holmes says, broadening his grin.

Rami shakes his head as a dead ringer for Holmes—save for the mass of curly hair brushing his shoulders—comes out from the back, followed by a cute guy…and a girl. They hug and make out before the guy and girl make their way into the elevator.

“That’s Maverick. He and Holmes are identical twins,” Rami whispers .

The elevator doors close and Maverick turns to the room with a troublemaker smile, looking for all the world like the cat who got the cream. “Hey! I didn’t realize this was a cousin sleepover. Haven’t seen y’all in far too long,” he says, strolling into the living room.

“Looks like a whole bunch of us got laid last night,” he says, gesturing between Rami and me. “Between you two and whoever Oakley was banging last night, my friends and I were very inspired.”

Whatever pride Rami had before flees the scene and he drops his head into his hands. “Shoot me now.”

“Sorry, cousin. I can’t do that,” Honoré cracks. “Your dads would never forgive me.”

Rami leans in against me, and it feels so natural. He whispers, “As you can see, the Wildling nickname is totally Mav’s fault.”

I give his ass a brief squeeze, and his ears go red. “I happen to like that nickname,” I whisper back.

Holmes disappears into the kitchen, and within a few minutes, the smell of fresh coffee permeates the air. “Got another pot on deck,” he announces. “Who wants pancakes?”

We all agree that pancakes sound delicious, and just then, the elevator doors open again. A familiar guy, massive and bearded with square features, walks into the foyer and stops short. “Did I miss a cousin sleepover?”

Where do I know him from?

“Wait, were you not here last night?” Maverick asks, the mental calculus visible in his eyes.

“That’s Oakley,” Rami says under his breath. “You might remember him from your Mardi Gras hand job exchange.”

Aw fuck . I send Rami an apologetic look, and he laughs. “Not the first time the cousins have accidentally shared sexual partners.”

Oakley shakes his head. “Chatted up a cute girl on Rainey last night and stayed at her place.” He sees me and pauses. “Truett?”

I give him the equivalent of the grimace-smile emoji, but as his gaze flicks back between Rami and me, his smile is warm and welcoming.

“Nice to see you two together,” he says.

Rami’s cheeks go red, but the way his eyes light up at his cousin’s approval is…wow. Maybe it’s silly to say after everything, but I think he really likes me.

Maverick, on the other hand, is pure confusion as he ruffles through his pretty curls with his fingers. “Wait, Oak. Who the hell was staying in your room last night?”

“We were,” Anders says, his slow drawl particularly gravely this morning. Omar trails behind him into the foyer. “Figured Oakley wouldn’t mind. We’re a little too old to be racking out on the couch, and H and H and Maya had already claimed the guestroom beds.”

The dads are wearing boxers and tight T-shirts, looking better than anyone their age has a right to. Rami and Maverick share a stricken look.

“Oh no,” Maverick says. “No, no, no .”

“Who wants the first pancake?” Holmes asks, stepping into the living room with a kitchen towel wrapped around his waist. He sees his brother’s face and sets the plate on the counter. “You okay, Mav?”

Holmes clocks the uncles, clearly having just woken up, and Oakley fresh from his walk of shame. He stares at Mav, horror flashing across his face. “Please tell me our uncles weren’t the ones in Oakley’s room.”

Maverick looks ill.

Holmes gives an aborted snort while Rami buries his face in his hands again. Omar follows suit while Anders, unsurprisingly, is laughing his ass off.

“I need brain bleach and an exorcism,” Maverick moans, dramatically making his way to the bar. He takes the pancake straight off the plate and stuffs it into his mouth.

I can’t help but join Anders in cracking up. “Serum boner for the win.”

Maverick scrunches his nose. “What does that even mean, bro?”

I grimace and send a panicked look to Rami, who shakes his head.

“Nothing. Just my pre-coffee ramblings,” I say, getting up to grab myself a cup.

This family is…something.

Rami opens his hands. “I still don’t understand why my fathers ended up spending the night here.”

They exchange a look. Finally, Omar says, “We don’t know what kind of danger you’re in, so we let ourselves in last night to make sure.”

“And how, exactly, did you let yourselves in?” Rami asks, his eyes narrowing.

“Wait, what danger?” Maverick asks.

The oxygen gets sucked out of the room for a few seconds, then Omar turns to Maverick. “Brantley Whitaker was killed last night.”

His eyes widen. “In jail?”

The dads shake their heads. “Brant turned state’s evidence and was released to his home with a security detail.”

“Damn.” Mav turns to Rami. “You okay, cuz?”

Rami shrugs. “More or less, I think?” he answers, then thins his lips and glares at his fathers. “Still curious about how you let yourselves in,” he points out, accepting the mug of coffee from me.

Anders, possibly for the first time in his life, looks abashed. “I…may have made a copy when y’all moved in.”

Rami takes a sip from his mug, then looks at me, his brows meeting in the middle. “This is perfect. How did you know? ”

“You’ve mentioned your ridiculous coffee order a time or two in the chair. I guessed cream and sugar with a splash of coffee should do it.”

He takes another sip, his eyes never leaving mine. We stare at each other until someone clears their throat.

Refocusing on his father, Rami holds out his hand to his dad. “Give it.”

“What if you lose your key?”

“That doesn’t matter, Dad. All of us have keys, including Silas.”

“Wait, Silas gets a key, but I don’t?” Anders complains.

“Because Silas would never defile Baba within earshot of my cousins,” Rami says through gritted teeth.

“To be fair, you were also in earshot,” Honoré interjects, “Though you two were a lot quieter.”

Anders’s smug look is…not right.

Meanwhile, Rami is still holding out his hand. “Give it, Dad.”

Grumbling, Anders goes back to the rooms and returns with his wallet, cursing under his breath as he fishes out the key card. “Here. You ungrateful offspring.”

Rami kisses his dad on the cheek. “I love you too. And as you can see, I am perfectly safe. No boogey men hiding in the shadows. The Wildlings take care of our own.”

I slide my arm around his waist. “And me. I take care of you too.” I lower my voice. “Even if you are better with a gun.”

Rami flushes, then nuzzles my temple.

Maya makes a vomit gesture. “Ugh. Allosexuals are so gross.”

That cracks everyone up, and Holmes rejoins us. “Another pancake up!”

Anders hips his husband out of the way and grabs the plate from Holmes’ outstretched hand.

Omar shakes his head. “That man. ”

The elevator dings again, and a heavily tattooed man—this is definitely Silas—accompanied by the most gorgeous Cane Corso I’ve ever seen, walks into the foyer, holding up his phone. “Holmes says there’s pancakes?”

Breakfast is a funny, raucous affair, especially with the two sets of twins. Maya and Rami have complementary intelligences, and their conversations weave in and out of social media gossip and Maya’s unrelenting schedule at the hospital.

Maverick and Holmes, on the other hand, are complete opposites who seem almost psychically connected.

Which is hilarious because if I thought Rami was a social media prince, Mav has him beat in the famous for being famous category by a mile, while Holmes is proud of the fact that he has never once logged on to social media.

Also, nobody seems to pick up on the fact that Silas, clearly some flavor of sociopath, is distinctly unhappy when Oakley regales the group about his unintentionally hilarious one-night stand. It seems to be the jealous unhappiness of a one-sided crush, and I feel a little bad for him.

Though…do sociopaths get crushes?

It is a spectrum, I suppose.

Cupcake, his Cane Corso, is wearing a harness with the words Service Animal subtly embroidered on it, which is also unexpected.

Honoré jokes that both of his fathers—one an ex-basketball god from the Spurs, and the other a popular yogi here in Austin—can palm the floor while Honoré can barely reach his ankles.

“Pére splits his time between sun salutations and that WhiteHat app.” He laughs. “And you should see him—so beautiful and still a fairy goth at nearly sixty. ”

A few things click into place.

“Does your dad go by spürsfan2020?” I ask. Just a hunch.

Honoré’s brows raise. “Yeah, how did you know?”

“I spend a little time on that app too.”

Honoré and I exchange a look, and he dips his chin, a small show of admiration.

An alert goes off on my phone, and Rami asks, “What’s that?”

I let out a regretful sigh. “That’s my scheduling reminder. I’ve gotta open the shop and prep for my first client of the day. I always give myself an extra half hour though. I don’t have to run out the door right away.”

He gives me a soft kiss, and his sad little pout makes my heart beat a little faster.

“Um…” Holmes says, rubbing his head. “I missed my usual appointment this week. If I can scrounge up a clipper, can you clean up this mess before you go? I’ll pay you.”

The mess he’s referring to is the high and tight fade that’s less than two weeks old by my calculations.

Maverick laughs. “I have a pair of clippers, but I use them to shave my nuts.”

The room laughs, and I hold up my hands. “My clippers are better than anything you have here, and bonus, they won’t have your brother’s short and curlies on them. Just follow me to the shop, and I’ll have you in and out in under ten.”

Holmes sends me an appreciative look. “Thanks. I can’t stand it when my hair isn’t regulation.”

Anders leans in. “There are no regulations. That’s all him.”

I laugh, but I understand where Holmes is coming from. Unfortunately, this means I hafta leave earlier than I wanted to, but I like that I can do something small for Rami’s family after everything they did last night.

Rami trails me back to his room .

“How about a quick blowjob for the road?” he asks, draping himself on me as I fix my hair in the bathroom mirror.

I smile and bring him in for a soft kiss. “Baby, you drained my balls last night. And again this morning. There’s nothing left in the tank.” Another soft kiss because this is who I am now, apparently. “But I’ll take a rain check.”

He bites his lower lip. “I like that.”

Moments later, Holmes and I are in the elevator, heading down to the parking garage.

“Not to assume anything,” he says quietly, “but you and Rahm look good together.”

I dip my head. “I…” I sigh. “He’s different. Or maybe I’m different around him.”

His responding smile is genuine. “None of the women I’ve dated ever made me feel that way, but it’s good to know it’s out there.”

“I still don’t know all of what this is,” I admit. “But I want to.”

I really do.

The elevator dings and the doors open.

“I’m this way,” Holmes says, thumbing a gesture to the right.

“I’m this way,” I say, thumbing a gesture to the left. “Do you know where the shop is, or…?”

Holmes nods, and we go our separate ways.

The faint tang of battery discharge hangs in the warm air, blending with the hum of tires and the low murmur of downtown Austin in the distance.

My head’s in the clouds as I tap my key fob, still thinking about the look in Rami’s eyes when he took that first sip of coffee.

I open the car door, and the world goes black.