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 Raineylast 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.”
