“Maybe later. I’m not feelin’ it right now,” he says, eyes still on the TV. “What about you?” he asks, a forced nonchalance to his tone.
I settle back, getting more comfortable. He hasn’t brought up anything to do with Lennon and me yet—not to me, at least. Maybe this is his way of asking without outright asking. I don’t want to lie to him. He’s my best friend. But I need to talk to Lennon before I say anything.
“Nah,” I say. “You know me; I don’t do the diamond dolls.”
He nods, humming under his breath, but says nothing, making my skin prickle. He knows.
Scrubbing a hand through my hair, I sigh, feeling like the biggest shit in the world. I hate going behind his back like this. Lennon and I need to tell him—and soon.
When Bates finally goes to bed, I sneak into Lennon’s room, finding her wearing those sexy-as-shit glasses she had on the other night as she flicks through some papers.
“Hey,” she murmurs, keeping her gaze on whatever she’s reading.
Crawling into bed beside her, I brush a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Hey,” I say against her warm skin. “Can we talk?”
She lowers the papers slightly, turning her head to face me, and says, “Two minutes. I just have to finish reading through this contract.”
I nod, and she smiles softly then presses a quick kiss to my cheek. I pull out my phone and scroll through my emails until she puts her papers and glasses on her side table then rolls into my side. I toss my phone and curl my arms around her.
“We need to tell Bates,” I tell her.
She nods against my chest. “I know,” she says. “Tomorrow?” she suggests.
“Tomorrow,” I agree.
Then she sits up, bracing herself on my chest. Her eyes search mine for a beat before she asks, “And what about the rest of the world?”
Her question surprises me. I didn’t think we’d be having that conversation for a while yet. “You ready to go public?”
She shrugs, mumbling, “I don’t know.”
Her gaze is filled with uncertainty. I cup her cheek. “I’m ready when you are,” I tell her. “If you want to wait, we’ll wait.”
“Today, on the sidewalk, I wanted to kiss you or hold your hand or something . . .” She sighs. “I don’t know. I just . . . I wanted to touch you, but I couldn’t, and I hated it.”
Hearing her say that makes me so fucking happy. I roll her to her back and smother her with kisses all over her frowning face.
She slaps at my shoulder and weakly attempts to shove me off. “Stop,” she orders, chuckling.
“Can’t,” I say between kisses. “I’m busy.” I continue my assault for a whole minute then prop myself up on my elbows. Staring at her beautiful face, I brush an errant strand of hair out of her eyes and smile.
“What?” she asks, her lips twitching.
“I want to kiss and touch you, too, spitfire. When we’re at home, on the sidewalk, in your office, anywhere and everywhere. I want you always.”
Her smile breaks free, and my heart swells. Her smiles are rare and precious. And they’re all mine.
Licking her lips, she asks, “So, we’re doing this?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Fuck yeah we are. The question is how do you want to handle it? I know you’re worried about how this will affect your career, so I’ll follow your lead, okay?”
Her hands slide into my hair, her nails raking against my scalp, sending shivers through my entire body. “Thank you,” she breathes, lifting her head to softly brush her lips over mine.
“Don’t you know I’d do anything for you?” I tell her then deepen the kiss.
And just like that, the talking portion of the night is over. And when the sun comes up the next morning, I don’t bother sneaking out of her room.
Bates is in the kitchen at the coffee machine when we emerge from Lennon’s room around nine, hand in hand. His gaze zeros in on our joined fingers then narrows.
“Can we talk?” Lennon asks him.
He gives a stiff nod, his jaw clenching as he picks up his steaming mug and stalks toward the couch. We follow, sitting on the loveseat across from him.
I open my mouth to speak, but Lennon squeezes my hand, and I glance at her. She shakes her head then looks to Bates.
“So, me and Arch, we’re together now,” she says.
He quirks a brow. “No shit, Lenny. I’ve got eyes. How long?”
“Not that long,” she tells him. “Just over a week.”
He scoffs. “What-the-fuck-ever. You two have been acting weird for months. Did you really think I didn’t notice?”
I cut in. “It’s not like that, man. She’s telling the truth. We’ve only really been together for, like, a week. We didn’t want to lie to you, man. That’s why we’re telling you.”
“You expect me to believe that? Really? A week?” he drawls then takes a swig of his coffee. “You guys are shit actors and even shittier liars.”
Lennon runs a hand through her hair, her fingers getting caught on a snag, and she yanks it out with a frustrated growl. “You want the full story? Fine,” she says, glaring at her brother. “We slept together once, well over a year ago, and since then, I’ve been fighting tooth and nail to stay away from him, Bates.”
He cringes, holding a hand out to quiet her. “Nope, stop right there. I don’t want to know about you two bumpin’ uglies.” His gaze locks on me, narrowing dangerously. “Bro code, dude. Those words mean anything to you? Fucking my sister is a major violation.”
“We’re not fucking,” I defend, standing. “We haven’t had sex since—”
Bates lurches to his feet, shoving me. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”
I shove him right back. “Well, too bad. You’re going to listen to what I have to say, asshole.”
He charges me. We tumble over the coffee table, landing hard on the floor. Bates straddles my waist and slaps me twice before I manage to roll him off, reversing our positions.
I pin his hands by his head. “Stop!” I yell. “We had sex once last year when Jess fucked me over. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did, and I’m sorry, man. But it changed everything for me.”
The fucker reefs his right hand free from my grip and slaps me again. “That’s for fucking my sister,” he states.
“What were the other two for then?” I retort.
“The same damn thing!”
I sigh, releasing him and getting to my feet before offering him a hand up. “Fair enough,” I murmur. “I guess I deserved that.”
“No shit,” he grumbles, taking my hand.
We turn to face Lennon, who’s sitting on the loveseat, filing her nails. She glances at us, a bored expression on her face. “You two done?”
Bates mutters, “Yeah,” while I nod.
I return to the loveseat and sit beside Lennon again while Bates drops onto the couch, crossing his arms and avoiding looking at us.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Lennon says to him. He keeps his gaze averted, so she continues. “But I can’t keep running from this. Bates, I love him.”