Iris giggles at his stupidity.
“You’re testing my patience tonight,” I warn him, but in reality, it’s not just tonight. He’s tested my patience since the day he was born, and I figure he will until my cold body is placed six feet under.
Mason playfully smacks my shoulder. “Keepin’ you on your toes, big bro.”
“What’s going on?” Tate asks as she glances between Mason and me.
“Your brother’s being a moron,” I tell her.
“You or him?” she asks, earning a glare from me.
“Iris,” Tate says, taking Iris by the arm. “I want to introduce you to the girls.”
Iris looks at me, and I give her a chin lift. “Do whatever, sweetheart. Everyone’s excited to meet you.”
“Yeah,” Mason mumbles. “I know I was, and man, it was worth the wait.” He coughs as I turn my hardened stare at him.
“Lulu and Zoey have been dying to talk to you. You’re quite the topic of conversation tonight,” Tate tells her as they walk away.
Iris glances over her shoulder to find my eyes, and I smile, wanting her to know she’s safe with the other girls. No one in my family is mean, and every single person gets overly excited when there’s a new face in the crowd.
“Hey, dipshit. Stop looking at her like that. She’s too old for you, and she’s mine.”
“She’s yours?” my brother asks with raised eyebrows.
“Yes,” I snarl.
He tilts his head, those damn bushy black eyebrows still raised. “Interesting.”
“What the hell is interesting?”
“Never heard you say that about anyone before. I think Tate was right.”
“You two gossip like two little old ladies.”
“And you’ve never brought anyone to family dinner. Tate didn’t have to say anything to me about Iris to know what’s up.”
When I swing my gaze in Iris’s direction, I see the girls are in a huddle, deep in conversation. “What do you think they’re talking about?” I ask my brother, forgetting he’s a dumbass when it comes to women.
“You.”
Damn. I think he’s right for once. When all eyes in the group shift to me, there’s no mistaking who the target of their discussion is. Iris gives me a wink from across the room, settling what little bit of anxiety was starting to rise deep inside me.
“See,” Mason says, slapping me on the shoulder, “told you.”
Dad’s not far away from them, and when my eyes lock with his, I know I’m in for a very long conversation. He crosses the room in a few large strides like a man determined.
My dad is a calm guy. He had been through more than most people by the time he hit forty, and somehow, he kept his shit together and came out the other side stronger. But every once in a while, that sleek exterior slips when things start to go sideways.
“Braxton,” he says as he stops in front of me.
The dreaded full first name.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Mason peels away from us without saying a word, leaving me to deal with Dad on my own.
Jerk.
“Hey, Dad,” I say, trying to keep the mood light, because I know he wants to go dark.
