Ezra grunted.
“You coming?”
Ezra was, in general, better at taking care of himself as he worked than he was, but Ezra was also a workaholic if he’d ever met one.
Another grunt of an answer had him taking the few steps across the office to stand in front of Ezra. Pale blue eyes rose to meet his gaze.
“What’s going on?”
Ezra sighed, lips twitching for a moment before he said, “It’s your fault.”
A snort escaped Emmett, and he ignored Ezra’s eyeroll as he pulled himself up onto Ezra’s desk, a brow arched in question.
“With you moving into Wilder’s room, it opened up your bed for someone else.”
“Oh?”
Ezra dropped his head into his hands, his words muffled as he spoke. “Fucking Talon.”
Emmett pressed his lips together, though he felt the corners pick up.
Ezra looked up at him through his fingers and, seeing Emmett’s expression, he groaned and dropped his hands.
“I take it he’s an awful roommate?”
“What’s awful is an asshole like him having a body like that,” Ezra said with a groan. “I want to climb him like a tree, but I also want to push him down the stairs.”
Emmett huffed out a laugh and only laughed harder when Ezra pinched him in the thigh.
“Climb him first,thenpush him down the stairs?” he suggested, jumping off the desk before Ezra could pinch him again. “Why is he staying in your room anyway? I thought he had his own?”
“He did. Does. His and Spencer’s room is being renovated and, as I said, thanks to you, I had an empty bed in mine.”
“How horrible,” he teased, wagging his brows at Ezra.
“Go away.”
He held up his hands.
“Going.” He headed toward the staircase, a smile teasing his lips. He turned around, gaze meeting Ezra’s. “Don’t pushmedown the stairs.”
He ducked, running down the first few steps, something hitting the wall above his head with a dull thud. He didn’t stickaround to find out what Ezra had just broken. He could take that up with Kaz himself.
Walking into the clubhouse living room, he smiled when he caught sight of Miles sitting at the dining table with his phone in hand, a glass in front of him, as well as an untouched plate of food.
“Everything alright?”
He pulled out the chair across from Miles and sat down, watching his friend with a raised brow.
Miles looked up from his phone, lips pulling into a grimace. “They’re late.”
“I’m sure they’re fine.”
Miles nodded, though he didn’t look convinced, fingers tapping the tabletop.
“How are you coping with what they do and not knowing what’s going on?”
Miles narrowed his eyes.
