The minimalist interior, all in various shades of black and gray, once felt like a sanctuary to me. It was clean and predictable, exactly how I like things.
But now, after being surrounded by Riley’s warmth and color, this place feels hollow. Mocking, even. Like the walls themselves are laughing at me for thinking I could ever be something more than what I am.
I loosen my tie and toss it on the kitchen counter, heading straight for my private office. It’s more of a bunker than anything else, with fingerprint access, soundproof walls, and no windows.
My brothers used to joke that if the world ended, I would be locked away inside with a drink in one hand and a gun in the other, and they weren’t wrong.
It’s the only safe place for me to be until my anger subsides.
I’ve always been an act-first, think-later sort of guy, and right now I don’t trust myself not to do something incredibly stupid.
I press my thumb to the keypad, and the moment the door hisses open, I freeze.
Brennan is lounging in a chair with his boots kicked up on the poker table with a glass of whiskey in hand.
“About time you showed up.” His grin has my teeth grinding.
“You are the last person I want to see.”
“Charming.”
“How long have you been sneaking in here?” I shut the door behind me. “It’s fingerprint protected.”
“Yeah, about that… I added myself. You really should update your security protocols, big brother.”
“Fucker.” I head toward the bar to pour myself a drink.
“An fucker who knows how to get into your secret bunker. And by the way, you look like hell.”
“Feel like it too.”
“Bad day?”
“You could say that.”
“Uh oh, is there trouble in paradise?”
I slam the bottle of whiskey down on the marble bar top as I shoot Brennan a glare.
“There was a reason I came here. A reason I have the security measure in place. I want to be alone.”
“Damn, I thought regular sex would have made you less grumpy, but it seems to have done the opposite.”
The only thing stopping me from launching the bottle of whiskey at my brother’s head is because it’s a rare vintage, and it would be a crime to waste it on Brennan. So, I pour myself a triple and down it in one gulp, hissing as it burns my throat.
“Can’t you go and bother someone else?”
“You know, for someone who swore he would never get tied down, you sure as hell like to play the part of the brooding love interest. It’s comical, really.”
“I’m not brooding.”
“Tell that to your face.”
I scowl at Brennan over the top of my glass.
“Whatever has happened with Riley, I suggest you make it right before it’s too late, and she realizes how much better off she is without you.”
“What makes you think I’m the one who’s fucked up?”
