Page 17 of The Brave and the Reckless (Bravetown #1)

COSTUME POLICY

Strap on your cowboy boots and step into the Old West. Guests of all ages are welcome to dress up and become a true citizen of Bravetown for the duration of their visit. No garb at home? Our clothiers and hat-makers will make sure you fit right in with the townsfolk.

Need to locate a member of staff? Look out for the pink or gold badge on their chest or around their neck.

Please read our Extended Clothing Policy s for notes on inappropriate attire.

N OAH

I’d told her.

This was beyond any common sense Sinan may have prescribed her.

I’d fucking told her.

My knuckles turned white around the handle of the kitchen cabinet as I stared at her latest bullshit. Instead of groceries, glasses of water lined my shelf, all of them filled to the brim. She hadn’t even put my stuff on her shelf. It was just gone. Replaced by water .

“Do I want to know?” Austin asked as he reached past me to grab a box of cereal from his own, perfectly intact supply.

“Esra,” I grunted.

“You two realize I can still hear you fighting when I switch your mics from speakers to intercom, right?”

“So?” I glared at him, and he just raised his free hand and backed away.

He wasn’t even supposed to be at the receiving end of this glare. He hadn’t caused a stupidly restless night by asking too many questions. He wasn’t keeping me from my tea.

I huffed and tracked back upstairs. I rapped my knuckles against her door hard enough to hurt.

“Who is it?” Esra sing-sang from inside.

“The prime suspect if you were to go missing today.”

Her laugh carried through the door before she opened it. “Did you just make a joke, Young?” She blinked at me with those big brown eyes, not a fucking care in the world that she was standing in front of me in her underwear. Pink and white, mismatched.

“Jesus, Esra.” I tipped my head back, blinking at the ceiling.

Even so, the sight of her chest, lined by pearly silk, was burned into my corneas.

It was all over the ceiling. Fuck her “no bra club” T-shirt.

This bra was made to spotlight her smooth bronze skin and rounded— Hell, no . “Put on some clothes.”

“For the record, you came to my bedroom. You act like you’ve never seen me naked before,” she laughed.

“I haven’t … That’s not … You should …”

“Cat got your tongue? ”

Judging by the rustle of fabric, she was getting dressed. I still didn’t dare to look. Not that it helped. I still saw the smattering of freckles on her stomach behind closed lids every single time I blinked.

“Food,” I huffed, not trusting my brain to produce a single worthwhile thing.

Maybe I was having a stroke.

“Food. Four-letter word. Nutritious substances that are eaten and digested in order to survive and grow,” she replied, voice dripping with false sweetness. “You can look.”

I lowered my chin and found her wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, standing by her desk– which had disappeared under a heap of clothes.

If I’d trusted my brain more, I’d have told her that there was, indeed, a chest of drawers for her to use.

And a laundry room for the towels that littered her floor. “Where. Is. My. Food.”

“Hmm.” She smirked. “In the kitchen, I’d assume.”

Her words flipped the switch, and all images of bras disappeared from my mind. “For the love of god, I’m about to throw you through the air. You don’t want me to do that on an empty stomach.”

“If you’re out of food, I can share. PB and J? Cereal?” She blinked innocently.

Suppressing every urge to yell at her, I gritted my teeth, spun back around and left. She wanted to play her stupid pranks? Fine. Nothing good would come out of me staying in her mess of a room.

“It’s rude to leave without saying goodbye,” she called out after me. “Oh, hey Lucky.”

“Hey… Oh come on, Noah,” Lucas piped up. “Not cool. I had dibs. ”

“What?” I whirred back around. Esra leaned in her doorway. Lucas must have just come downstairs and now stood next to her, looking like a wet puppy. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

“Don’t worry,” Esra cackled, “he starts panicking every time he sees me naked.”

“Every time? As in multiple times? Still not cool. Bro code , man.” He stormed past me, sulking like a petulant toddler.

“I can’t believe you didn’t respect his dibs, Young,” Esra said, loud enough for Lucas to still hear.

“No dibs disrespected!” I yelled and followed Lucas back downstairs to the kitchen.

“I didn’t sleep with her. I have no intention of sleeping with her.

You know what, Lucas? You have my blessing.

You two are perfect for each other.” I tore open the cabinet again, hinges creaking, and started dumping glass after glass of water in the sink.

Half of it spilled over, soaking my sleeves and the counters.

But who the fuck cared in this house anyway?

“Just keep in mind that you did hook up with Zuri before she and Sanny got together, and now you intend to stick it to his little sister. If he wanted to kick your ass for that, the real sheriff would probably side with him. But who cares? Fuck consequences, right? Fuck consideration for other people and the fact that they’re just trying to live their lives. ”

Lucas sank into a chair and rubbed a hand over his chest. “Jeez, you’re worse than usual.”

“Worse than usual? Meaning what exactly? That I, for one, actually don’t treat this place like a fucking high school field trip?” I emptied the last cup and stared at the mess on the counter. Someone else could deal with that. “I’m out of here. ”

A few minutes later, I stomped through the hallways in the main office building. I thought that maybe, possibly, the fresh air would calm me down. Instead, each step had just hiked my pulse up more. The actual fucking audacity. Didn’t this count as bullying? Sexual harassment? Something?

Renee’s office door was closed, but Vivi glanced up from her desk when I stormed in, and that was good enough for me. “I can’t work with that woman,” I grunted.

“Who?”

“Esra.”

“Why?” She tilted her head like a fucking bird. Like she hadn’t been there last night when Esra had ordered a third drink even though she’d already been wobbly on her feet.

“She’s immature and irresponsible.” And half-naked in her room, etched into my memory.

Vivi laughed, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. Why do you think my mother will care?”

“She should. I mean, if the show goes wrong because Esra can’t treat it like a serious job, people could get hurt. Between the horses and the explosions…”

“From what Mom’s told me, she’s doing all right during the shows.”

“She’s spoiled.”

“Have you gotten into method acting?” Vivi sighed and propped her hands on her hips, leveling me with a completely neutral stare that she had from her mother.

It had the unique ability to make you feel like a little kid being questioned about the cookie jar, even if you never touched the cookie jar.

“Hating the mayor’s daughter and the cushy life she stands for while becoming more and more of a hermit who doesn’t see himself as part of society? Is that what you’re doing?”

“What the fuck? Where did that come from?” I wasn’t a social fucking butterfly, but I wasn’t a hermit either. “That’s not what’s happening here.”

“If you say so…” Vivi pursed her lips. “My mom’s already in the park to set up for the final rehearsal. So if you want to complain about Esra being too immature to work with, you’ll have to head over there.”

“Great,” I huffed. Despite having a new destination, I couldn’t move.

I could only stare at Vivi’s desk and the little digital picture frame that played a slideshow of party pictures.

Just because I wasn’t out line dancing or blowing up lettuces or skinny dipping on a Wednesday night, that didn’t mean I was a hermit. “I know how to have fun.”

“Oh-kay?”

“I know how to have fun,” I repeated with a grunt and stormed out.

Esra had laughed. I’d confronted her about my missing food, and she had laughed. Was I supposed to find that funny? I’d stolen her drink last night, so she stole my food this morning, and now we were all in on the joke and having a jolly time laughing about it?

I paused in my tracks outside. Behind the main office building, some of the park’s attractions poked out above the trees and roofs.

The Ferris wheel, disguised as a wooden mill, and the Mountain Pass Railroad were the tallest. I hadn’t been on either in fifteen years.

Hell, I hadn’t been on any of the rides since then.

That still didn’t make me a hermit who didn’t know how to have fun or take a joke, right?