Rami’s question is interrupted when Anders smacks my shoulder.
“Hey, Truett. You’re all right, kid.”
I fritz for a second as I try to process my super inconvenient boner, Rami’s unfinished question, and Anders’…approval? Anders sends me a wink, then steps away, ostensibly giving us a bit of privacy amid the madness.
Rami watches his dad walk off and shakes his head. “I swear, he is never not embarrassing.”
Biting at his lower lip, he turns to me. Rami didn’t even blink when he picked up that rifle and mowed down a shit load of bad guys, but this, right here… this makes him nervous. Like maybe my answer to the question he still hasn’t asked is pretty fucking important to him.
I take his hand and lay soft kisses along his knuckles. “And to answer your question, yes. I think maybe we could.”
Rami’s soft smile makes my chest warm. “I know it’s too soon for labels,” he starts, then brushes his lips against my temple. “But I haven’t let myself feel this way about someone in a long time.”
“Me either,” I admit. “But after everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, the idea of you being my future boyfriend doesn’t freak me out. Not even a little bit.”
Rami pulls away, his eyes sparkling. “I can work with that.”
Shaking my head, I shuffle us in a half-circle so our backs are to his fathers. Rami raises his brows, a silent question.
“As your not-quite boyfriend, I should tell you that whatever they gave me is making me really fucking horny,” I say under my breath, surreptitiously untucking my shirt and adjusting my cock to sit behind my waistband.
Ah fuck. Sweet relief.
“Holy shit, me too.” Rami laughs, making similar adjustments. Leaning against me, he whispers, “You know, my fathers were always open about sexuality, and we talked about the variety of boners you could get—the morning boner, the I’ve-got-a-crush-on-someone boner, the I’m-eighteen-and-everything-turns-me-on boner, the headache boner, even the flu boner. But never once did my fathers explain the murder boner.”
I chuckle, still shell-shocked. “That feels like a miss on their part.”
“Right?”
Now that we’ve covered our dualsituations, we return to the group. Only…Omar’s expression is dark. Shit. This is definitely not the time for romance.
“Baba? What’s wrong?” Rami asks. “Why do you look so worried?”
Omar scans the area, peering into the shadows. Finally, he answers Rami’s question. “We did a good job of taking down this team, but until we know where they came from, we don’t know who we just pissed off. If they came after Brantley, who’s to stop them from coming after you?”
Rami’s eyes hit the ground, and I put my arm around him. “Are you okay?”
He shakes his head. “I forgot Brantley was killed. How could I forget that? And why aren’t I feeling it?”
Honoré taps his shoulder. “That’s what happens in the heat of battle. Your brain sets aside the memory so you can focus on what’s happening in front of you. You didn’t forget. You simply put it in a safe place until you’re ready to retrieve it. It might be a few days before you can process his death.”
“He’s right, son. Don’t beat yourself up if you don’t feel the impact right away,” Omar says, nodding along. Turning to the two special-ops Wildlings, he says, “Given the unknowns in this situation, I’m having you two stay with them at the condo.”
“Yes, sir,” Holmes says, his tone serious.
“Holmes, buddy, you never have to call me sir.”
Phew. I was right about his name.
“Sorry, Uncle. We’re in the field and it helps me keep things straight.”
I imagine it must be hard, trying to maintain protocol in a family of rebels.
“Can I go with them?” Maya asks, rubbing Rami’s arm. “I haven’t spent time with the cousins since this one tossed my brother out on his ear,” she says, gesturing a thumb in my direction. “He got drunk on one beer and couldn’t stop whining about how you rejected him.”
“Shut up,” Rami growls, then places a kiss on my cheek. “You can come too.”
I lean in and whisper, “As if I’d be anywhere else tonight.”He blushes, so I try to further lighten the mood. “Wait, you whined about being rejected?”
