Jesus.
“Two clowns,” I mumble. Then, louder to Brax: “I’ll bring them back.”
“No,” Brax says. “I’ll come get ’em.” He hangs up before I can argue.
Just great.
Now what the fuck am I supposed to do withthese two idiotsfor the next hour?
Charlotte must catch the irritation on my face because she pipes up all bright and hopeful.
“We’ll be good! We’ll be quiet as little mice!”
I look around the manicured front lawn. Lush hedges, sparkling fountains, and birds chirping like it’s fucking Disneyland. They’ll be fine.
“Stay outside. Wait for Brax.”
“But I need to... use the restroom,” she blurts, bouncing a little on her toes, pretending.
I squint at her. “Hold it,” I snap. “Or piss in the grass like the lost dog you are.”
She searches the ground, looking for ideas,still.
Jesus.
Such a persistent little thing. Begging for my attention. So desperate. So...
Don’t think it, Grayson.She’s a goddamn menace.
But sweet. And innocent. And that’s exactly why she has no business seeing what’s about to happen between me and Meghan.
Actually...
I smirk.
Perfect.
“You know what? Fine. Come inside.”
I shoulder open the front door, not bothering to wait.
The place gleams like a museum. Huge white floors, massive windows, cold expensive furniture, and modern art slapped on the walls just to show off.
We step into the main hall. Lights overhead, different stages set up along the walls. Meghan’s homemade production studio.
One even looks like a creepy basement. Fitting.
I spot Meghan across the room, clicking away on her laptop perched on a standing table. She’s wearing a silk white robe and high heels, her tattooed arms peeking out from the loose sleeves.
“Hey, baby,” she purrs when she sees me. I hug her, already frowning. Her eyes are half-lidded and hazy. She’s high again.
I fucking hate that.
She glances behind me. “And who are these people?”
“You met Killian before,” I say. “That’s Brax’s brother, Atticus. And his sister—”
“Charlotte,” she finishes, smirking like she already knows too much. “Aww. Cute.” She tugs at my shirt, playful, trying to peel it off my body. “You ready, babe?”
