Page 1 of Code Word (The Atrous #3)

ONE

I pulled the Range Rover into the garage, with Becca in the passenger seat. We kinda smiled at each other, but not really. Strained smiles at best. “I’ll grab the basket,” she said.

“Okay.” I nodded as we got out, grabbing the two bags from the back and heading inside. I was so fucking happy to be home.

We’d been gone a week.

A winter beach staycation with her friends at my Malibu house. Which should have been fun, but... her people were not really my kind of people.

Something made abundantly clear to me this last week.

My kind of people were inside the house, and I was glad to be home.

Well, my people... Luke’s car was in the garage, which usually meant he was home. But the place was dark, curtains drawn, and everything looked untouched.

Exactly as we’d left it a week ago.

“Luke?” I called out.

It was a big house. It was technically his house, but I’d lived here forever, and Becca basically lived here too.

Becca was Luke’s sister, so it wasn’t totally weird .

“Where is he?” she asked, sliding the basket of groceries onto the kitchen counter.

I shrugged, frowning. “Dunno.” I pulled out my phone and shot him a text.

Where ru? I’m home

There was no reply, and before concern could creep its way in, I heard a door open down at his end of the house. He appeared a few seconds later, walking out wearing sweatpants and a hoodie with the hood up, a few brown wisps of hair escaping at the front, and his hands inside the sleeves.

And he looked like shit.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” I replied, dropping the bags. “Wassup? Dude, you look terrible. You feeling okay? This place is like a cave, and it’s cold in here.” I went to him and put my hand on his forehead. He was clammy.

I felt his neck and his cheek, and he closed his eyes, leaning into my touch. Close-up, I could see how dark the blotches were under his eyes.

“Luke,” I whispered. “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t sleep, can’t eat,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes closed and swaying into me.

I caught him, my hand going to the back of his neck, and he could barely stand up. He needed to sit down, so I walked him to the couch and sat down with him. Bec brought over a bottle of water and kneeled in front of him. “Luke, you want us to call someone? Is Vana here?”

He made a face, and I knew what that meant.

They hadn’t been getting along too well. Not fighting, as such. Hell, they hadn’t been in the same place long enough to be fighting.

“She hasn’t been here,” he mumbled. “I’m so tired.”

When he made no attempt to open the water bottle, I did it for him. And then he made no attempt to drink from it, so I held it to his lips and made him take a sip.

“Want me to call Mom?” Bec asked, her hands on his knees.

He shook his head. “Just need to sleep.” He leaned into me, his head on my shoulder. And when I put my arm around him, he became heavy against me.

“Luke, you okay?”

“Need to sleep,” he mumbled again, his head resting against my neck, and then he didn’t move.

Bec looked at me. “I think he’s asleep,” she whispered.

Oh, man.

Not entirely sure what else I could do, I pulled him down with me so we were lying on the couch. He was tucked into my side, against the back of the sofa.

And he was out.

Now, we’d always been close. He was my best friend, my brother. Even in our Atrous days, he and I were tight. Inseparable. And that hadn’t changed over the last eighteen months. Since our last album, since Atrous bid our fans farewell.

If anything, we’d become closer.

It hadn’t been easy, this adjustment to reality. But he and I navigated it pretty well. Well, as best we could.

Sure, I’d noticed he and Vana weren’t getting along. I’d noticed his disinterest in her. I’d just assumed they were petering out. She was busy; her own girl-group Cyko had been on tour doing all the things we used to do as Atrous.

Never to the scale we had.

But still... part of me wondered whether he was jealous of her career. The concerts, the media attention, the hype of it all. If he missed that life.

Not the grueling schedules, and the physical and emotional toll.

Hell, none of that.

But we’d been Atrous for a decade, since we were sixteen. We’d known nothing else, and when we didn’t have that anymore, it hadn’t been easy.

We all still hung out. Not as much as we used to.

But Maddox and Roscoe were married now, and Jer and Steve may as well have been freaking married.

Plus, Roscoe was busy with his business, and so was Steve.

Wes and Amy had their little girl, Benny, and he was in full dad-mode now.

It was great for him. He was the best dad ever, and we were all happy for him.

Not to mention that little B-b-benny and the Jets had the best uncles ever.

And Luke and I were doing okay. We still lived in his huge house, playing ball on his half-court, playing video games, doing all the things we’d never had time for over the last ten years.

But things had been weird these last couple of months.

He’d been weird with Bec and me, and I just put it down to him and Vana coming to an end. It was never easy to be around another couple when your own relationship was dying.

Especially when it’s your best friend and your sister.

It couldn’t have been easy for him.

Bec left us alone, taking our bags and sorting out the groceries, while I lay there with Luke, letting him sleep. He needed to sleep, clearly, and if I helped with that, then fine.

It certainly wouldn’t be the first time we’d shared sleeping spaces, shared beds, or crashed out on each other in the last twelve years.

And to be honest, it felt nice.

Nice to reconnect with him after a week away and the tense weeks before that. It felt... nice. There was a comfort, a feeling of home that I didn’t get from anyone else.

Luke and I shared a bond. A closeness not many others could understand. Everything we’d been through. Everything we’d shared, endured, we’d done together.

It wasn’t anything more than that.

But after a not-so-great week with Bec and her friends, realizing we maybe didn’t have a great deal in common, being with Luke like this felt so fucking good.

I closed my eyes for a minute, letting myself doze off, rubbing his back, letting his metered breathing calm me, center me.

I woke up, I don’t know how long later, to find Bec standing there, watching us. She held her phone. “Vana’s on her way,” she whispered. “To get the rest of her things.”

Oh.

So that answered that.

“Oh. Okay.”

“She said he hasn’t been sleeping for a while.” She looked at her brother then. She studied him, then me, before she tried to smile, one that didn’t quite sit right. “He hasn’t stirred.”

I wasn’t sure why that felt so accusatory. She’d never had a problem with Luke and my closeness. Hell, her understanding of my relationship with her brother was what made it so easy for me. And for him. She knew relationships for celebrities were fucking hard.

She knew that.

Instead of replying, I just closed my eyes.

I wasn’t going to fight with her over this. Not over Luke.

Because it wouldn’t be a fight. Not from my end. If it ever came down to choosing between them, it wasn’t a contest.

Pretty sure she knew that too.

Probably wasn’t fair, but it’s just how it was.

Quiet whispering and the feeling of being watched made me open my eyes. Bec was there again, this time with Vana.

Bec looked awkward this time, and Vana was very clearly pissed.

She had a suitcase with her and a filthy scowl. Her hair was brown again—I could never keep up—and she let out a contentious sigh.

“I’m done,” she said, her tone acidic. “Done being the third wheel. Done being his second choice. You can tell him that when he wakes up from his cozy little sleep on you. I couldn’t get him to touch me for months, and look ...” She gestured to him, asleep on me.

I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to say to that, so I looked her right in the eye when I kissed the top of Luke’s head and gave her a wave. “Okay. Bye.”

It didn’t help that Luke, still sound asleep, slung his leg over my thigh and snuggled in some more.

She made a weird meep noise and huffed as she dragged her suitcase out. I tried to feel bad, but honestly, fuck that attitude, and fuck her.

Ten or so minutes later, Bec was back. She gave me a neutral expression, but her sigh spoke volumes. “Did you have to kiss his head? In front of her? They just broke up?—”

“Did she only just figure the third-wheel thing out?” I asked. I hadn’t meant it to sound so blunt—or to sound so directed at Bec either—but the look she gave me told me I had pretty good aim.

That she was also a third wheel in this. That Luke and I were closer than I was with her. That Luke was my priority, and he always would be. He was her brother. She knew this.

She looked toward the windows and seemed to come to some conclusion in her head before nodding and walking away.

It wasn’t like I could get up and follow her.

I wasn’t entirely sure I would have.

But I’d just spent an entire freaking week with her, which hadn’t been a great time for me, all while Luke was going through something here on his own.

He needed me right now.

She was gone for a while, and I couldn’t get up, so I felt around on the armrest for the remote control. Then Bec was there, and she handed it to me.

“Thanks,” I said.

“I’m going to see Mom and Dad,” she said, distracted. “I told them I’d stop by when we got home. I, uh, I might have dinner with them and stay the night.”

“Hm.”

She nodded, looked at Luke again, still sound asleep on my chest, and smiled more genuinely this time. “I won’t tell them about him. Just...” She grimaced. “Look after him.”

“I will,” I said.

She came back with my phone, holding onto it for a second when I took it. She met my eyes, held my gaze, searching for something. Then with a nod, she was gone.

I wasn’t sure what kind of goodbye that was, but Luke stirred, mumbling something in his sleep. I rubbed his back again, and instead of turning the TV on, I made a phone call.

No hello , no greeting, just a familiar voice that made me smile.

“Blake, you’re back. How was your week-long sabbatical with the eat-pray-love crowd?”

I chuckled. “Hey, Maddox. It went about as well as expected.”

He snorted. “Sorry to hear that. How did Luke survive without you? I didn’t hear from him. Left a message, told him to come over, but no bueno.”

I sighed, my free hand raking through Luke’s hair, frowning at the ceiling. “Well, yeah. About that. That’s why I’m calling.”