Page 153 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

I shake my head, incredulous, and that's when I see Rhys on the other side of Marcus. All three of them wear the same threatening expression. I can't tell if it's aimed at Lance or me.

“Did you not hear what my mate just said about removing your hands,” Zachary says, “or do we need to show you exactly why you should have listened the first time?”

To Lance's credit, his hand doesn't move, and he glances at me in question. I shake my head again, about to tell him to ignore them, when Rhys reaches over and moves Lance's hand away himself.

“That's the last part of her you get to touch tonight,” he says, and his voice sends icicles down my spine. “Actually — that's the last part of her you get to touch ever.”

“Oh my god,” I say, utterly mortified. “I am so sorry, they don't usually...” I don't even know how to finish that sentence, because they absolutely do, usually.

“Don't need to apologise to him,” Rhys says, not looking away from Lance. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

“But, you ar—” I start as I get down off the stool. But my foot hits the ground wrong and my ankle rolls, and I'm crumpling. Marcus is there instantly, one arm hooking round my waist and hauling me straight into him.

“Hey, babygirl.” His mouth's right at my ear, low and dark, sending chills through my body. “Is this skirt new? I don't remember it on the floor of my bedroom, or bunched up around your waist when my tongue's inside you.”

Holy shit. I need a much stiffer... drink.

“Let go of me, Marcus.”

I peel myself out of his arms, grab a fistful of shirt each from Marcus and Zachary, jerk my head at Rhys to follow, and drag the three of them towards the quiet end of the bar, throwing an “excuse us” at Lance, over my shoulder, who lifts a hand in a small, bewildered wave.

“What the fuck,” I say, the second we're out of earshot, “are you doing here? And why the hell did you say that to Lance?”

“So it has a name.” Marcus, arms crossed, entirely unbothered. “Creepy Dicky Grabby Hands has a name.”

“I think I'll stick with 'Creepy Dicky Grabby Hands',” Zachary says. “More descriptive.”

I grit my teeth. “Yes. He has a name. His name is Lance Boland, he is a perfectly nice guy, who now thinks I have a psychotic boyfriend.”

“Is that supposed to sound like a bad thing?” Marcus says. “Sounds like mission accomplished.”

“Want me and Rhys to go over and clarify?” Zachary tips his head.

I frown. “Um... wha⁠—?”

Zachary runs a hand down my arms as he says, “Let him know he's actually dealing with three psychotic, possessive, completely unhinged boyfriends?”

I hang my head. I should've known better. “What are you even doing here? Why are you here?”

“Well, firstly, we own the place,” Marcus says.

“Yeah, well, you haven't seemed to care about it much the last few days. Where have you been?”

Zachary shrugs, easy. “Took a mental health break. Bit of fishing. Bit of sunbathing by the water trough.”

“Don't forget the naked parasailing,” Marcus says.

Zachary visibly cringes. “I'm actively trying to forget that part. In fact, I feel like this is in violation of the agreement that what happens on The Trip stays on The Trip.”

“Hey. Focus. You guys just…left!” I'm loud-whispering, but by the way Hunter and Aria are very surreptitiously not seating people at tables close to us, I've subscribed to the Betty School of Volume. “You didn't tell anyone where you were going. What if something had happened and you were needed here?”

“My managers knew how to reach me,” Zachary says with a shrug.

“Why?” Rhys finally says, watching me closely. “Did you want to get in touch with us?”

I clamp my mouth shut before I say something I shouldn't. When I think I can trust my mouth to behave, I just say, “No.”

The corner of Rhys's mouth threatens to curl up and I glower at him as he says, “Okay. Just checking. Leon's been giving us updates on you, anyway.”