“Always been like this.” Ren sounds smug about it.
“I bet even in the uterus you had your snooty nose in the air.”
It’s funny how similar and different they look. They both have blond hair, but Ash’s is longer and always messy. He’s covered in tattoos, his nose is crooked, and he has a bad-boy air surrounding him. While Ren looks like a frat bro—cashmere sweaters and straight jeans, perfectly styled hair and inner confidence—with a hint of dark mystery added by his mirrored sunglasses.
“I bet you were arguing even then,” Dare interrupts his brothers’ teasing remarks. He is completely different from them with his brown hair, gym-rat physique, and ice-blue eyes. All three have the same exact shape, but not the color. I once caught a glance of Ren’s dark green ones while Ash’s are brown.
“Are Rami and Hunter coming?” I ask, looking at Pink jumping down from my lap to go to Ren.
“No. They are working on a case,” he lets me know. Hunter is a PI, and from time to time, he asks for his husband’s hacking skills. “Lori and Gabe aren’t either.”
“They are probably working on…someone,” Ash adds before taking a sip of his beer. He means vigilante style.
“They went to a wedding cake testing,” Dare corrects him.
Ash sighs. “Fucking hell. I can’t believe people still get hitched.”
“We know you are only in for the STD-kinda fun,” Ren jokes.
“I’m clean as a whistle, fuck you very much, Mr. Let’s-fuck-and-good-luck.” He sniffs back.
“I’m not against dating in the future.” That’s the first time Ren’s talked about a serious relationship. Just the other day we laughed about it.
“Who’d date you?” His brother sneers.
“Like your ugly mug could ever interest anyone for more than five minutes.”
“You know you look incredibly alike, right?” I tell them.
“The fuck we do!” Ash exclaims.
“Who’s more handsome?” Ren abruptly asks.
“Ahhh,” I make a weak stalling sound.
“Yeah. Who? The pretentious prick or the guy who can ink fabulous designs on your skin?” Ash leans over the table.
“Or the incredible friend who you will move in with next semester.” I can see my panicked face in Ren’s mirrored sunglasses.
“Ink sale.”
“Lower rent!”
My anxiousness rises as they shove me into a proverbial corner, until I exclaim, “Dare!” I point my finger at their brother, who came to the table to get a plate. They both pout, muttering something under their breath, but I’m just happy I was able to save myself.
“You’re all handsome.” Michael’s voice reaches us from the cottage backdoor as he and Raph make their way toward us.
“No, they aren’t,” Raph deadpans.
“Quit the jealousy act. They are.” His husband slaps him on the chest with a happy smile.
“The psycho has no taste,” Ash states, sending Raph the stink eye.
He doesn’t seem to notice it or care. His deep gaze is firmly on his husband. He keeps hold of Michael’s hand as his husband places the other on my shoulder to give it an affectionate squeeze.
Michael became a professor of forensic pathology, anatomy, and toxicology at the University of Chicago. He also gives lectures all over the country and helps Sari at times in the Bear-Stone’s research labs. I took his toxicology class last semester. He’s an amazing professor, very objective and patient—especially with Raph, who waits for him every single time outside class, glowering at whoever goes near him.
Pink suddenly appears near my leg and hisses angrily at Michael.
