I tap on my phone to check on the location of our pizza as Maddox makes his way through the sliding glass door.
“You can leave it open,” I tell him. “Place could use some fresh air.”
Maddox leaves it and settles on the barstool by Reed as I open up the fridge and grab a beer for him.
“Orangecraft IPA, right?” I ask, and the corner of his lips quirks beneath the beard.
“How the hell do you know that?” he asks.
“Probably because it’s all you post on your Instagram,” Reed says.
“Says the guy who’s constantly posting videos of his hands stretching or wrapping around something,” I taunt my brother.
“People love my hands,” he grins.
“I hate that you do that."
“Why?”
“Because I stumbled upon someone trying to market their dark romance book with a recording of one of your videos, and it completely turned me off. I said, ‘Oh, that’s hot—wait,gross.’”
Reed laughs as if he’s proud of the blunder.
“I’ve been trying to get this guy to do them now that he has the new tattoo on his hand,” Reed says about Maddox. “Did you see it?”
My eyes narrow. “I mean, I’ve seen him in pictures while he was playing. You’re making it sound like it’s more special than that.”
Reed jerks his chin at Maddox. “Show her.”
“Show me what—Oh.”
It’s all I can manage as Maddox sinks his face into his palm, showing off the skull face and wide smile tattooed on the back of his hand. It aligns with his features perfectly—the hollow nose on his ring finger and bare teeth stretched across his bones. And just like with the skull mask he wears onstage, all I can see is his wicked green eyes when he looks up.
“Remind me to get a picture of that sometime this week,” I say, and it’s not entirely for the firm’s benefit.
I wonder what that hand would look like over my mouth.
Or, more importantly, around my throat.
Maddox smirks at me, and I quickly let my hair fall over my face as I reopen the pizza app.
“Says pizza will be here in ten,” I announce.
Reed and Maddox begin chatting about something Maddox saw on his newsfeed, and I turn to grab plates from the cabinet. The breakfast nook table is just big enough for the three of us, what with Reed and Maddox taking up as much space as they do now.
By the time I’m finished setting up and have waters on the table, the doorbell rings.
Reed pulls cash from his pocket and darts to the door before I can go. When I ask him why he’s so eager to get the food, he simply says that the pizza place had a hot girl delivering on this route over Christmas.
I exchange a look with Maddox, who is drawing a container from his pocket with gummies inside, and he just shakes his head as he grabs one out.
“Gummies?” I ask.
He extends the tin to me. “Can’t do the smokes anymore. Had to make the switch. It’s a whole different high.”
I take one and pop it back into my mouth as he chews on a second. “Two?”
“Long fucking day and night,” he replies.
