“It would be a shame not to pass on those genes of yours,” Ava said, not letting the matter rest. “One day, you’re going to meet someone and change your mind.”
“I can assure you I won’t.” His tone indignant, Sloan leaned forward. “Don’t want a wife, either.”
“Why not?”
“Are you volunteering?” He curled his lip. “I just don’t.”
Kit elbowed him in the ribs. “You don’t have to be a dick about it, Sloan.”
“I’m not.” He turned to Ava. “But unless I were to come across someone as lovely as yourself, which is doubtful, I won’t be swayed.”
“I’m flattered, but that’s sad.”
Sloan responded with a subtle shrug, the smirk remaining in place. “I don’t care for people all that much, you know.”
And the saddest thing of all? He did once. Until that selfish bitch he almost married bled him dry, and CJ fucked with his head.
They moved outside to the terrace after that. Reclining on a wicker lounger, Matt closed his eyes to the waning day and breathed in the smell of freshly cut grass and wood-smoke. Like Bo, he craved outdoor spaces, and Kyan made sure he had them. A balcony off his room with a built-in bed. The rooftop garden.
He opened his eyes, and taking a sip of beer, Matt gazed across Bo’s backyard to his. It was an overgrown mess, crowded with shrubbery and trees, when he got the place. The landscape architect thought to rip it all out and start anew, but Kyan knew what he liked and wouldn’t let the guy do it. Instead, they removed the weeds, trimmed the overgrowth, and addedmulched wildflower beds. He loved looking out the window at his little forest. Sometimes, he would lie there, naked beneath the trees, to reflect on life and take a break from the world.
Matt smiled. One day, he’d run naked through those trees with Gina. He’d fuck her on the ground, clawing at the dirt. He’d make her come, howling at the moon, on the rooftop. And he’d love her slow and sweet, all through the night, on the balcony with the built-in bed.
He was going to keep her, all right.
Maybe he’d been preparing for this girl his entire life.
“Yo, Matt?”
He looked up to see Bo hovering over him with a plate.
“Medium-rare okay?”
“Perfect, thanks.” He took it, his mouth watering at the sight of the seared ribeye.
“Sides are over here, hun.” Ava waved him over to the table where Kit and Sloan were already digging in. “We’ve got baked potatoes with all the toppings, grilled sweet corn, sautéed mushrooms, and a tomato-feta salad.”
A refreshing breeze washed over him, rifling through his hair. It felt good. Reluctant to move, Matt motivated himself to join his brothers at the table.
“Hey, let’s hit the club tonight.” Kit smacked him on the ass as he took his seat, but the bassist was looking at Sloan. “What do you say?”
As if weighing his options, the reclusive frontman cut into his steak, brought a piece to his mouth, and slowly chewed. He picked up a bottle of beer and, holding it poised at his lips, he finally spoke. “Yeah, all right. I’m in.”
“Matt?”
“Sorry, no can do.”
Likely as surprised by his answer as he was by Sloan’s, Kit’s eyebrow shot up. “Why not? You got something better to do?”
“Not exactly.”
“What is it then?” Kit asked, pressing the matter.
“I’m, uh… seeing someone.”Kind of. “It’s new, and I don’t think she’d like the idea of me at a sex club without her.”
He hadn’t planned on announcing Gina into existence. Not yet. Matt didn’t want to jinx himself, but he still harbored guilt over the only other time he’d bailed on his closest friend and owed him an explanation.
Kit looked at him like he didn’t believe him. “Who?”
