“Mhm,” I agree, lifting my head up because I’m starting to go lightheaded. But as I still can’t look him in the eye, I pull my hood up over my head and tug on the drawstrings until it’s covering my face. I shift down the bed until my feet touch the carpet. “What are you? Can I ask that?”
“I’m vers. Me and Carter both are.”
“What does that mean?”
“We’re versatile. We like it both ways.”
I groan. “Fuck, I’m so dumb.”
“No, you’re not,” he insists.
“I am. Here’s me, brother to a retired slut, and I don’t even know what vers means.”
Zach lets out a bark of laughter. “But he’s yourbrother. Some things are weird to talk about with your siblings.”
“Do you talk about sex with Brody?”
“Fuck no.”
Tapping my fingers in a nervous rhythm on my chest, I ask, “So, what do I need to do?”
Chapter Thirteen
Hunter
O’Connor throws himself into the armchair, and the springs groan from the impact. It tilts back, the front two feet coming off the floor a few inches before landing back on the floor with an audible thud.
“You don’t love us anymore,” he tells me with a pointed glare.
Without taking my eyes off my phone, I say, “I never loved you to start with.”
He gasps, and I catch both of his hands flying to hold his cheeks out of the corner of my eye. “LT! I’mheartbroken.”
I place my phone down on the arm of my chair and make a show of rolling my eyes toward him. “What do you want, OC?”
“Well, I have a bone to pick with you. First of all—” He holds up a finger. “—you’ve been smiling. Something I didn’t think you were capable of doing,” he says, and then his eyebrows arch up toward his hairline. “Have you been hijacked by aliens? Blink three times if you need rescuing.”
I flip him off.
“I haven’t beenhijacked by aliens,” I mock.
He lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Phew. I would’ve had to get the plunger, and that wouldn’t have been a pretty sight.”
“Why the plunger?”
“To suck the alien out of you.”
“There’s no such thing as aliens,” Spencer chimes in, taking a seat on the couch. He’s holding a plate with two toasted sandwiches and a handful of chips. It’s coming up to 7:00 a.m., and as we only have a little over an hour left on shift, there’s no point trying to get some sleep now.
O’Connor lunges and snatches one of the sandwich halves from his plate, causing several chips to fall onto the floor.
“Motherfucker!” Spencer snaps. He quickly scoops the fallen chips off the floor and puts them back on his plate. He wipes his hand on the front of his sweatshirt, then glances up to see us watching him. “What? Five-second rule.”
“When was the last time this floor was cleaned?” I ask.
“I dunno.” Spencer shrugs, then shouts over his shoulder for the probie. “Rob-meister, when did you clean the floor in here?”
“Before we left for the bar fight last night,” Robbie calls back.
