Oh no. They were going to love Levi.
“What was that about?”
I screamed, whirling around, and screamed all over again. “Lassiter!” I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around him. I’d been trying to give him space, tried not to stare at the “other” side too much, but Creighton said there was a chance he’d come with Pialto.
He went rigid before he slowly forced himself to hug me back.
I stepped back, all smiles, because this was good. Him saying hi to me. This was a good sign. “Hi. How are you? What’s new with you? Any new friends or more than friends? You don’t have to answer that—”
“It’s not serious.”
“Oh.” I took him in again, really took him in and saw the exhaustion between the lines. He wasn’t doing well. But this was Lassiter. He wouldn’t open up to me like Levi or Creighton. If he was here, he was here for a reason. “What’s not serious?”
“I know Trace told you about Pialto and me, but it’s not serious. We’re friends. Sophie too. They’ve adopted me. Kind of. Molly as well. You’d like her. You’d likethem.”
I snorted. “Walden’s camp? I doubt—”
“No. You would.” That hurt look was still there.
I reached up, touching the side of his face, wanting to rub it away if I could’ve. “He did it to push you away.”
He laughed softly. “You think I don’t know that? I know he did. West didn’t hit him that hard.” He expelled a sudden breath, closing his eyes. His shoulders loosened. “I haven’t been with them the whole time. I went back to Cincy for a bit. Visited my old house. A lot of things have changed. Heath’s brothers are running things there for Creight now. They’re doing a good job.” His gaze trailed behind me, searching. “I might need to stay away for a bit longer. I’m not ready. I’m not quite over him.”
“Okay,” I whispered. I didn’t want my brother to hurt, and he was hurting, and I couldn’t stop it from happening. “I’m here for whatever you need. Okay?”
He continued to stare at me as if he were seeing someone he didn’t recognize, until all of that went away. The wall slipped, just a bit. “Thank you, Blake. You look happy.”
I nodded, unable to speak. Sudden emotions were clogging up my airway. I pulled him to me for another hug. Before I let go, I whispered, “I don’t give a fuck about blood. You’re my brother.”
He suddenly hugged me back before he coughed, and stepped away. He couldn’t look me in the eyes, but that was okay. His hands squeezed my arm one last time before he slipped away, going through that camouflaged door.
“Everything okay?”
The timing of it all. I had to laugh.
Creighton had come to stand on the other end of the hallway.
I turned back in the direction Last just left. “Yeah.”
He’d been here. He said hello. That meant something.
Things were going to be okay. I’d felt it before, but I accepted it now.
I rested my head against the wall and smiled at my man. “Can you take me home?”
“Happily.”
“Why don’t you want me to call you Quokka?” Creighton asked me as soon as I finished taking off my dress and changed into sleeping shorts and one of his hoodies. He hadn’t changed, waiting for me on my bed, and I was okay that he hadn’t changed.
And of course he was calling in his favor tonight.
Hoping to stall, I gave him an appreciative look, skimming my hand down his front. He was still dressed in business pants, a button-down shirt, and a tie. All of it had been tailored so it molded to his body, accentuating just how lean, but built, he was. Creighton did work out, and I knew he lifted weights, but he did it more as an activity to spend with Levi. It looked good on him. For some reason he had also put on a baseball cap with the brim pulled low. I think he pulled it out when we were in public or traveling, like we had earlier on the subway. As if that could camouflage his hotness. I scoffed at that in my head.
That was my favorite look on him, and I might’ve salivated a little bit at the sight of his square jawline. The guy was blessed, andsometimes it wasn’t fair, but with the looks, I wasn’t going to complain because I was the one that got to touch him.
I flipped his tie over his shoulder. “I like you like this. Though, I like your usual outfit too. Jeans and a Henley or sweatshirt. Joggers if you want to be comfortable or look like an athlete. Plus this.” I tapped his hat.
He grabbed my finger before I could tap it again and pulled me against him. He was trying to scrutinize me underneath the brim. “Quokka story. Enough stalling. It was a favor.”
