Asshole number two.
Though I admit, they got my attention.
My veins pulse, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. Pushing my laptop aside, I scrutinize them both, wondering if they figured out my well-kept secret.
If so, how much do they know?
A quick appraisal tells me they don’t know shit. They’re positively buzzing underneath their forced gazes of condemnation. If they knew, they wouldn’t be doing this alone. Our four older brothers, younger sister, their better halves, and our parents would be here, armed with moralizing speeches that wouldn’t differ much from those they dished out three years ago while I lay in a hospital bed, barely hanging onto life.
Oh, and I’d be sporting a black eye and a split lip by now.
“Again, some info missing. Either spit it out or say goodbye,” I clip, accepting a Corona from Conor.
“We’re going out,” he clarifies.
“No shit, Sherlock. I gathered that much.”
Cody plops down on the bar stool, elbows hitting the counter. “You work like a fucking robot, bro. You barely have time to breathe, let alone meet someone, so we’re going old school and making things happen.” He grins, misplaced pride flashing in his eyes.
I doubt whatever they have in store tonight washisidea. Every scrap of Conor’s attention is taken up by his sons these days. No room in his head for brilliant ideas.
“Logan was reminiscing the other day about the bets he used to make with Theo and Nico,” he continues. “One evening in particular gave us an excellent idea.”
Not rolling my eyes proves a struggle. I know what he’s talking about. It’s one of Logan’s favorite stories. Not just because those bets helped him get together with Cass, but also because Nico had been helping him all along while Logan thought Nico wouldn’t accept him and Cassidy being together.
“If you say—”
“Express Dates!” Conor finishes my sentence, wearing a Joker-style grin. “Didn’t see that coming, did you?”
“Only from a mile away,” I shoot back. “And the answer is, as you very well expect, a loud, resoundingno.”
“Give us one good reason why not. What harm will it do?”
“Other than annoying your wives?”
Cody tears the bottle from his lips mid-chug. “Fine, so we lied. It wasn’t exactly our idea. The girls are in on this. They know where we’re going and approved this mission.”
Conor smirks under his nose. “We’re your wingmen, bro. Not participating. We’ll be at the bar in the next room. If you find someone, great. You’ll take her home or whatever. If not, there’s always beer.”
“The answer’s stillno. You two are so busy with your lives that you hardly ever have time for a drink. So, like the good brother I am, I’ll fit you into my schedule tonight, but I’m notwasting half the evening getting turned down by desperate women.”
They share a loaded look, crossing their arms in perfect sync. Their stance, combined with the holes their eyes burn in my face, quickens my pulse.
I don’t need to hear what they’re thinking.
We were born with a nonverbal way of communicating—triplet skill, I call it—and right now, I read them like a book.
I’m off my game. I should’ve trusted my instinct the moment they saidintervention. They doknow, and they’re ready to use that knowledge against me.
“Fuck,” I hiss, running a heavy hand down my face. “How did you find out?”
Cody chugs the rest of his beer, inspiring Conor to follow his lead. Once they’re done, he grabs two more from the fridge. Looks like wherever we end up tonight, I’m the designated driver.
Unless they ordered a taxi.
I fucking hope they did because numbing the humiliation with bucketloads of beer is my best bet right now.
“You really thought we wouldn’t figure it out sooner or later?” Cody scoffs, taking his bun apart only to redo it exactly the same. “Give us some credit.”
