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Rhett

I’m in the middle of a make out session with Oliver when my phone rings. Oliver starts to pull away, but I yank him back. I’m not letting a damn thing get in the way of this.

A smile takes over Oliver’s face. “Possessive much?”

“Shut up and kiss me, O.”

Tugging him closer, I move my lips against his, harder this time. I don’t want to talk right now. I want to kiss Oliver until he’s losing his mind with need.

It’s been too long since him and I have had some one-on-one time. Only a few days, realistically, but I can’t go much longer than that before I find myself cornering him and kissing the life out of him.

Honestly, the same thing goes for Ell and Wren, too.

Having Oliver straddling me on the living room couch is exactly what I’ve been craving. He’s panting into my mouth and leaning into the hand I have wrapped around his throat, his hands fisting my shirt. When I tilt his chin up and kiss my way up his jawbone, he whines impatiently.

My phone goes quiet, only for it to start going off again. Oliver curses under his breath as I release my grip on his neck.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Grudgingly, I snatch my phone from the coffee table. My irritation fades the moment I see who’s calling. “Shit, it’s Andrew.”

Him and Ben never call me. They prefer messaging, usually in the form of memes that require scouring the internet for me to understand.

“Hey,” I answer. “You okay?”

“Are you guys home?” Andrew sounds like he’s barely managing to keep it together. “I need to talk to all of you. It’s urgent.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re home. Is everything all right?”

“Um…”

When my brother doesn’t elaborate, I sit up. Oliver’s frown deepens with concern, and he places a comforting hand on my arm. Years ago, I would’ve shrugged him off, but now his touch grounds me.

“Andrew. Talk to me.”

“I’m fine,” he blurts. “Ben is fine, too. It’s a friend. He needs help.”

“All right. Is he coming with you?”

“N-no. He doesn’t know I’m involving you guys.”

“Why are you keeping it from him?”

“I—it—it’s complicated. Can I just explain when I get there? I’m ten minutes out.”

“Sure. I’ll get everyone together. You’re not speeding, are you?”

At that, Oliver rolls his eyes, which earns him a smack on his ass. Everyone speeds, I know. But Andrew is stressed the fuck out. Add in going too fast, and it’s a wreck waiting to happen.

“Slow down,” I say, keeping my voice gentle and hoping I don’t sound patronizing. “Getting into an accident isn’t going to help your friend.”

“All right, all right.” He pauses for a second. “I slowed down.”

“Good. Now get off your phone. I’ll see you soon.”

We end the call, and I stare at my phone’s background photo for a moment. It’s a picture of me, Andrew, and Ben on the first day Andrew started college. He and I still weren’t on great terms back then, but he trusts me now, and I’m proud of the growth he’s shown. Sometimes, though, I worry that I’m smothering him.

With a sigh, I drop my head back and rub at my eyes. “Did I sound too belittling?”

“Not at all.” Oliver kisses his way up my throat. “You sounded like you cared. And… well, maybe you sounded a little like an annoying older brother, but not in a bad way.”

“You’re one to talk,” I grumble.

“How do you think I recognized it so easily?” he says with a grin. “I’m pretty sure Mar has almost killed me a few times for being too overbearing.”

We’ve all been protective of Oliver’s younger sister since we were kids. Although…

“You did tail that one boyfriend of hers for a week.”

“Listen, he was giving serious serial killer vibes.”

I chuckle at the defensiveness in Oliver’s voice. The dude did end up being a creep, although he never killed anyone. Still, Maria was pissed—at Oliver for stalking, and at us for letting him do it.

“He was!” Oliver insists.

“I know, I know.” I give him one last kiss before nudging him to get up. “Come on, we need to find Wren and Ell.”

Muttering complaints under his breath, Oliver stands. He’s still half-hard, and I can see the outline of his cock through his sweatpants.

“Later?” he asks hopefully.

“Later.”

I slide my hand into his, and we meander through the mansion, looking for the others. Elliot is in his office, working on some code for a computer program that he’s developing with Finn. Unsurprisingly, he’s so engrossed in his work that he doesn’t notice us entering.

“Hey.” I have to nudge him to get him to look up.

Elliot jumps, and his chair rolls back a few inches. “Fuck! How the hell did you sneak in here?”

I raise a brow, my voice teasing as I say, “All we did was walk in.”

“Fuck.” Rubbing his eyes, Elliot groans. “What time is it?”

“Around nine.”

“Shit. Fuck. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be working on this for so long.”

“It’s fine,” Oliver says with a dramatic sigh. He slips between me and Elliot and plops directly into his lap. “We get it. You love that damn program more than us.”

The look of offense on Elliot’s face is as amusing as it is endearing. “That’s not—”

Oliver silences him with a quick kiss. “It was a joke, Ell.”

Elliot still doesn’t seem to find it funny, so Oliver kisses him again. It goes on for far too long given the circumstances, so I grab the back of his neck and pull him off Elliot.

“Stay focused, please.”

At the irritation in my tone, Elliot glances up at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Andrew is on his way over. He said a friend needs help with something, but he didn’t give any more details—just that it’s urgent.”

A frown forms on Elliot’s face. He takes a moment to respond, no doubt going through a mental list of all the possible reasons Andrew could need our help. “How did he sound?”

“Scared.”

With a curt nod, Elliot turns back to his computer. “Just give me a second to close this out. Where’s Wren?”

“About to find her.”

“Good. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Elliot keeps Oliver with him while I head for Wren’s bedroom. It’s the most likely option for where she is, so I’m unsurprised when her door is slightly open and her light is on.

“Wren?” I knock on the door.

“Hey. You can come in.”

She’s curled up in her armchair with a lilac blanket draped over her lap and a book in her hands. When she sees me, she shuts it and immediately gets to her feet. The blanket falls to the floor, but she ignores it, her focus solely on me as she crosses the room.

“What’s wrong?”

I stare down at her for a moment. She’s told me before that it took her a while to get used to how attentive we are of her. I’ve always wondered if she knows she’s the same. Wren is always watching, taking note of everything.

Oliver’s quiet days.

The moments Elliot’s guilt overtakes him.

My near-constant worrying about my brothers.

She never misses any of it. Just like right now, as she stands in front of me with her head tilted and her brows slightly furrowed.

“Rhett, what’s going on?”

I clear my throat. “Andrew called. A friend of his is in trouble. He’ll be here in a minute or two.”

Wren nods slowly, taking in the information. “All right. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.” Her arms come around my waist, and she places a tender kiss to my jawbone. “We’re good at that.”

“Yeah,” I mumble.

“Hey.” She squeezes me tightly. “He’ll be okay.”

I want to believe her, but I have at least a dozen worst-case scenarios running through my head. I’ve worked so hard to make sure Andrew didn’t fall back into the life Holloway pulled him into. I can’t watch him get hurt, and I’d rather die than let Andrew drag Ben into that shit, too.

Hopefully that’s not what this is about.

Chest tight, I pull back from Wren and turn toward the door. “We should get downstairs. I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

“Rhett.”

Shit.

I pause. Wren rarely uses a firm tone with me. It’s a last resort for her, one she doesn’t tend to like. So when her fingers wrap around my wrist, I let her tug me back.

“You’ve kept us safe this far, and that includes your brothers.” She takes both my hands in hers. “Whatever is about to happen, you can handle it. We can handle it.”

I let her words sink in. We’ve planned and executed hundreds of jobs without a single fuck-up. Every threat that’s come our way, we’ve dealt with. We defeated Ludo Holloway, for fuck’s sake. Whatever my brother has gotten himself into, we can get him out of. Easily.

“You’re right.” I lean my forehead against hers. “God, when are you not?”

With a grin, she plants a quick kiss on my lips. “Sounds like you should listen to me more often.”

“If I did that, you and Oliver would eat ice cream for dinner half the time.”

She gasps. “I would never!”

“Mmhmm, sure.” I take her hand and tug her out of her room.

I’m pretty sure she’s about to argue when both our phones go off. A quick glance at mine tells me that someone—Andrew, no doubt—just pulled into our driveway.

“Come on.” I pick up my pace. “Elliot and Oliver are already downstairs.”