“I’m surprised you’re alone,” I say to Jericho, changing the subject. The mini version of Xavier sees far too much. Clever girl.
“The others are on their way. Will and Peyton are picking up pizza. Sebastian is finishing up at work, and Quinn had to pick up the dogs.”
“And you were late because…?”
“Sebastian needed help with something.”
I can hazard a guess what that “something” was. “Of course.”
“Yay, pizza!” She finishes the tie and pats me on the chest to let me know she’s done.
“Try to get her into bed at a normal time.” Adjusting the tie a little to stop it from choking me—she tends to tighten it a little more than comfortable—I then pat my pockets to check for my wallet and phone. Not there.
“How late are you planning to be?” Jericho asks, waggling his eyebrows. Then he pauses and scowls. “Vee, can you go find a movie that we can watch while we eat?”
“Okay!” She runs off, and I barely resist the urge to call her back. Why is he looking at me like that?
Grasping my elbow, he forces me to stay still. “Please tell me you aren’t going anywhere with Xavier.”
I’m tempted to throw it in his face and watch him seethe for no reason at all. He deserves it. “It’s not Xavier.”
The suspicious expression on his face is uncalled for. I’ve never lied to him about this, even when it would have benefited me to do so. He has all the details of my disastrous past with Xavier. Perhaps I haven’t told him about the fact that Xavier occasionally visited me through the bedroom window, but that’s notlying. A technicality that keeps me safe from this disapproving face.
“I took your advice.”
Jericho snorts. He lets me go and leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Since when?”
“I’m not answering that. Being the big brother doesn’t mean that you always know better.”
“It does.”
“It doesn’t.”
“It does.”
“It does—Stop it. I asked Matthew out as you suggested I do.”
“Who the fuck is Matthew? Oh.” He clicks his fingers. “The teacher. Thought you said you weren’t going there.” He gives me a sly look that deserves to be smacked off his face.
“And I shouldn’t be,” I drawl. So what the hell reason do I have for doing it anyway? I’m not a reckless person. One of us needs to be careful, and it will sure as hell never be Jericho. There’s a reason I’m the one in charge. I’ll wade into danger the same as he will, but I don’t search for it, and I don’t do it without thinking first.
“Did he trip over his own feet when you asked him?”
“I’m not answering that.”
“He’s so wholesome. Are you gonna take him to a hotel later? Or show him a good time in his own bed?”
I’m not answering that. I have no intention of it being anything more than a pleasant dinner. “There’s something wrong with you.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t kiss on the first date. That’s so boring.”
“When are your men getting here? I like them better than you.” The jury is out on Peyton since he and Jericho are very similar in their approach of teasing everything in sight for the fun of it. I’d prefer there not be two of them.
He winks at me and gives me a smacking kiss on my cheek. “Have a nice night. Use protection. Curfew is eleven; don’t make me call the cops.”
“You think you’re funny, but I have bad news for you.”
“Don’t tell me, my heart couldn’t take it.”
