“By choice. I would like to meet someone, one day, but I don’t have time right now. I’m focused on my career, and it wouldn’t be fair to any woman to start something.”
“Green flag.” Isla smirks.
“He’s more mature than we were at his age.” Evan chuckles.
“Too true.” Christian smirks, fist-bumping Evan.
“We’re practically the same age,” I say, shaking my head.
“Well, we feel old as shit,” Christian says.
“Because of the kids,” Finn adds.
“Those little fuckers will age you real quick,” Evan adds, just as those little fuckers start screaming from the playroom. “I’ll go check on them.”
“I’ll come,” Christian says as they head off on dad duty.
They disappear toward the playroom, and for a moment the kitchen settles into a warm hum of voices, clinking bottles, and my brothers trying to pretend they’re not internally combusting with excitement.
Then the front door opens again.
And the noise shifts to louder, the way it always does when the Sons of Brooklyn descend anywhere as a pack. Blake walks in first, hand tucked into Charlotte’s, followed by Tyler, then Johnny, and finally … Chance, who is walking in chatting with the Gypsy Sisters.
My stomach drops.
Tavish perks up immediately. “Holy shit, they really are here.”
Callum elbows him. “Play it cool.”
Tavish absolutely does not play it cool. But I’m not even looking at them anymore, I’m looking at Chance, who stops and stares at me. His eyes land on Charlie, who wraps himself around me, pulling me into his side protectively. There’s a small frown on his forehead, but he then looks away and returns to whatever Indi is talking to him about.
Johnny claps Callum on the shoulder like they’re old friends. “Scotland. Tell me everything. Do you guys really drink whiskey for breakfast? Because if so, I was born in the wrong country.”
Tavish beams under the boy’s attention. “Hell, yeah, we do. We own a whiskey company.”
“No shit,” Johnny exclaims excitedly.
“You’re welcome anytime,” he tells him.
Tyler tugs Arran and introduces him to Chance and the Gypsy Sisters.
“Hi,” Arran says, polite but warm, offering his hand.
Chance takes it, lips curling. “Derrick’s brother, right?”
“Yes, not blood, though. My brothers are his brothers,” Arran explains as they continue to shake hands, and I notice it’s a little longer than normal. Is Arran blushing? I shake my head because those intrusive thoughts seem to have filtered in. Arran is just a big fan, and Chance loves the attention.
Arran is asking Chance questions about the band, and I notice Chance’s eyes never stray from Arran as they talk. Every so often, they dip to his lips before returning to his eyes. Tyler and the Gypsy Sisters have moved away from Arran and Chance’s conversation and joined another.
Charlie leans in, his shoulder brushing mine. “Is Arran gay?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know, I assumed he was straight. You see it, too, don’t you?”
“Chance and Arran flirting?”
“Yeah. I’m not imagining it, am I?” I continue to stare.
“No. I see it. What the fuck is Chance playing at? You think he is doing that to get your attention?” Charlie asks.
