“Remy!” I yell into yet another unoccupied room. He’s the most vocal, and he can barely keep his mouth shut when he’s mad, so he’s my best bet. The other two would probably ignore me until I died of starvation. An idea strikes me—if I can find the kitchen, they will eventually come to me.
As elusive as the guys are, the kitchen isn’t. I decide to hedge my bets and start cooking. Kill two birds—or three dodos, as it were—with one stone. I’m hungry, and food always brings all the boys to the yard.
The horrible consequence of that thought is getting the stupid song stuck in my head while I’m cooking. “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,” I sing and shake my hips while flipping an egg.
The fancy ass toaster beeps and my toast rises, perfectly burnt just the way I like it. When I spin with my plate of goodness in hand, all three men are standing in the doorway, watching me with varying expressions on their faces. Remy is scowling, Grayson is as blank faced as I’ve ever seen, and Felix looks sad.
My appetite disappears almost as quickly as my desire to be anywhere but here rises. “You’re cooking.” Felix lifts his chin a little, and I see him smell the air. “You still like burnt toast,” he sneers and waves his hand in front of his face. They used to think it was cute that I liked my toast dark and extra buttery. Not so much anymore.
Instead of responding to his statement, I make my way over to the nook near the back of the kitchen. There’s a circular booth that would rival any restaurant’s seating nestled into the corner, making a cozy dining space. I place my plate down and scoot into the plush leather seat.
Remy storms over to the stove and flips on the burner under the pan I just used. He makes a big fuss about getting eggs out of the fridge and making himself something to eat. I pick at my food until he comes to my side of the circular table and starts to sit, forcing me to scoot in more or risk getting crushed under him.
Grayson lets out a weighty sigh and sits on the other side, making room for Felix to join him, which brings him closer to me. I’m trapped between them, my only escape would be to crawl under the table, but they could thwart that too if they wanted to.
I leave my eggs mostly untouched and nibble on my toast. It’s cold now, but still edible. Remy hoovers his food, not much has changed there. He looks over at me, then down at my plate. “Eat,” he demands.
“I am.” I hold up my half eaten toast to prove it, and an awkward silence falls over the table. I can’t manage to do much but stare down at my plate. The rift between us feels like it’s widened to a chasm. It’s almost beyond my comprehension that I’m with the three people I’ve longed to see and speak to so badly over the years, and I don’t have a flipping clue how to talk to them without snark and bitterness coloring my words.
I wonder if they feel the same way. Taking a chance, I glance up at Felix. He’s looking at the tabletop also. His glasses have slipped down his nose a little, and I ache to right them, but I don’t have that privilege anymore.
My breath catches in my throat as I look around the kitchen again, this time for evidence of someone else other than the three of them. In the back of my mind, I know they have all probably moved on, but that’s very different than seeing it. I’ve been so blinded by familiarity I didn’t even allow myself to think they might be sharing this house with someone else, or more than one someone. That was why I left, after all—so they could find someone they didn’t have to share.
“What?” Grayson looks around.
“You all live here,” I surmise, taking in all the little touches that I know come from each of them. The fancy coffee maker is Remy’s, the neatly scrawled notes on the side of the fridge are Felix’s, and the booth we’re all in right now is from Gray. He always had to have a booth when we went to a restaurant. There were several times when we’d wait just to make him happy.
There are four white canisters on the counter. Each one is labeled, but I can’t decide which, if any of them, would have picked those. When I look back at the guys, Remy has his chin tipped down and he’s watching me shrewdly. “Why are you looking around like a ghost is about to jump out of the fucking cabinets?”
“I’m just admiring Felix’s work,” I hedge.
“Don’t try to butter him up.” Grayson crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me, while Felix lowers his head a little more.
“I’m not buttering him up. Am I not allowed to call it as I see it?” Grayson’s only response to my question is to scoff and avert his gaze from mine. “Look, me being here is about as comfortable as having itching powder in my asshole. How about you give me a ride to my dad’s, or better yet, I’ll just call him to come get me? What’s the address? Never mind, I’m sure he already knows.” Sometimes, I forget how life goes on here without me. Dad would often try to bring up the guys and what they were up to, but it was just too painful for me to hear.
I make a move like I’m trying to get out of the booth, but Remy doesn’t budge an inch. I look over at Grayson, but he just lifts one fucking perfect eyebrow, daring me to try to get past him.
I scoot my butt down, bend my knees until I’m under the table, and crawl out. A sneer of victory curls my lips when none of them try to stop me.Bet they didn’t see that coming!But then I feel the flare of Felix’s magic well up around me, and I go deaf for a millisecond before my ears pop and sound returns.
I know without being told he just locked down the house. There are benefits to building your own home, and imbuing the walls and foundation with magic is just one. It would take a squad of MBI agents or a demolition crew to bring down his barriers. There is no way I’m getting out of here unless he lets me. I’m not even sure if my phone will work.
Still on my hands and knees, I look over my shoulder and see Grayson and Remy checking out my ass—must not be too narrow since they can’t take their eyes off it—and Felix staring down at the table, pretending nothing just happened.
I lean back so I’m kneeling on the floor then look up at the ceiling, praying for patience. “Since I’m clearly not leaving until you let me, why don’t you tell me why you brought me here in the first place?”
“Get up off the floor.” Grayson nearly shoves Felix out of the booth so he can come over and haul me, none too gently, off my knees.
“Better?” I do a little mock curtsy, which makes him roll his eyes. At least it got some reaction out of him.
Remy takes both of our plates over to the sink and rinses the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher. Someone has trained him well. I get pissed off just thinking about it. He turns and leans his nibble worthy ass against the counter and crosses his arms. Felix and Grayson both end up on either side of him, creating a united front—or a completely lickable wall of yumminess in other circumstances.
“You asked if we all live here—”
“No, I didn’t,” I interrupt. “I stated you all live here. Iaskedwhy you brought me here.”
I can hear Remy’s growl clear across the room. Even aggravated, it makes me want to smile. He’s like a big ole lion you know could take your head off with one bite, but you also want to run your hands all over him and see if you can make him purr like a house cat. For the record, I can—or I could anyway. “You knew the deal, Frankie. When you stepped foot back in Hill Crest, you were ours.”
Chapter 6
