“Meta,” Connor said with a snicker.
“You’ll rot your teeth out,” Finn told him.
“Grayson didn’t show up to his own party, huh,” Spencer said dryly as he walked beside me. “Guess he and Aaron have a lot more in common than they both want to admit.”
“I’m here,” Grayson said as I led the brothers into the grand salon. “Thank you for showing them in, Lexi.”
His brothers stopped abruptly, Spencer stock-still beside me.
I slowly sidestepped over to the wet bar to let the brothers have their space.
“This is great,” Connor said finally. “All of us here together again.”
“You don’t even remember Grayson.” Finn snorted.
“Of course I do. I’m not that young,” Connor argued.
“You’ll have to excuse him, he’s graduating from college this summer and thinks he’s grown,” Finn told Grayson, who just nodded.
He was still drinking in the sight of his younger brothers. I could see him memorizing their faces.
“What’s the itinerary?” Spencer asked after a moment. “I’m assuming hugging and crying isn’t on the agenda.”
There was another long painful pause.
Graham coughed.
Awkward. This is soo awkward.
“I just want to say—” Grayson began.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway, sounding eerily like Grayson’s footfalls.
The brothers all turned to look as the sixth Richmond brother appeared in the arched doorway.
“So you want me to trust you with my little brothers, and you can’t even bother to lock your front door. Fantastic way to show you’re serious about being in their lives.”
“Aaron,” Graham said, “we’re not children. Lighten up.”
The Richmond brothers all looked eerily similar—same height, coloring, straight nose, and strong jaw—but Aaron and Grayson looked the most similar. Maybe it was the dark anger and resentment that hovered just below the surface.
“I told you all not to show up,” Aaron said to his brothers, scowl on his face.
“They’re grown men,” Grayson said sharply. “They can come here if they want to.”
“Well, well, well,” Aaron said, slowly circling Grayson. “You think that just because you threw a dinner party that we should forgive and forget, just ignore what you really are.”
“Aaron,” Graham said forcefully, “let’s not do this tonight.”
“I think everyone’s a little hungry,” Connor said.
“There are refreshments,” Grayson offered.
“I hope there’s no soy, dairy, tree nuts, or shellfish,” Spencer drawled. “Connor’s deathly allergic.”
Grayson’s eyes widened imperceptibly, and he glanced at me.
“That table is the allergen-free one,” I said, pointing, because what assistant worth her salt didn’t plan for allergies. “Eat up, Connor.”
