“You jerk.” Jett’s voice drifts through the house. “Do you have any idea how stupid that stunt of yours was?”
“But did you have fun? Where’s Kian?”
I abandon the rest of the washing-up and go to them. “Here.”
Rufus waggles his eyebrows. “Did you have a good weekend?”
“What if something had happened?” Jett asks. “We had no way of getting help.”
“Nothing bad happened,” Rufus replies dismissively. “The bigger question is, did anything good happen?”
Jett grunts. “Did you bring our things back?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. Your precious laptop is in the boot of your car, along with the rest of your stuff. Kian, your stuff is in my car, which is right outside. We’ll stop off at the hotel the guys and I stayed at this weekend to pick up Jett’s car, and then we can all go on our merry way home.”
“What about my shoes?” Jett asks.
Rufus cackles. “Yes. Stop stressing. They’re in my car.” He looks past Jett at me. “You were supposed to chill this stress-head the fuck out.”
I fold my arms. “Don’t make it sound like I was in on this.”
“He wasn’t,” Rufus says to Jett. “As carefree as my baby brother is, he’d never have gone along with it.”
I wince at his use of the word ‘baby’. Is that going to put Jett off spending more time with me? Will he go back to thinking of me as nothing more than his best friend’s younger brother?
“I’ll get your shoes, and then you can help put Granddad’s stuff away.” Rufus goes out to the car before I can say anything.
“You don’t have to help him,” Jett says.
“I know.”
“But you’re going to.”
“Yes.”
It takes us about half an hour to return all the things Rufus took from the house as part of his crazy plan. By the time we’re done, Jett has finished washing up and has put everything away. He’s also done a quick tidy-up. You wouldn’t guess we’d been here this weekend, which is…odd. It makes everything that happened seem fragile. The intensity and heat of the weekend could flicker and disappear like a moth flying into a flame.
Just before we leave, I go into the study and grab the pink furry handcuffs off the desk.
“They’re mine,” Rufus says.
I hold them against my chest. “They’re mine now. If you want them back, you’ll have to let me chain you up somewhere inappropriate.”
Rufus holds his hands up like he’s being arrested. “Fine. If they mean so much to you, you can keep them.” He prods my shoulder. “I always knew you were a kinky devil.”
I bat my lashes. “Why do you have pink furry handcuffs?”
His face goes red, which looks comical with his carrot-orange hair. “I bought them especially for this weekend.”
“Sure you did.”
I let Jett ride up front on the way to the hotel. He and Rufus bicker a bit more about whether or not Rufus should have done what he did. I’m still torn on the whole subject, so I keep my mouth shut.
Rufus parks alongside Jett’s car, and we all get out. I lean against my brother’s car, arms folded. I want to hug Jett. Heck, I want to kiss him, but I can’t.
“Do you forgive me?” Rufus asks.
“Only if you promise never to pull a stunt like that again,” Jett says.
