Page 100 of Wright Kind of Trouble

My brothers looked between themselves and finally nodded at Jordan.

“Owen called,” he admitted.

Oh no.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Had he told them about Chase? Had they come here, knowing that we’d been together? Were they going to barge into the room to find him? I honestly wouldn’t put it past them. There was a reason that we’d been hiding all this time. I was over this chauvinistic bullshit, but my brothers were intimidating on a good day. All four of them together, towering over me with their disapproval, was a lot.

I needed to take back control of this situation.

I took a step back. “I can’t believe you answered.”

“When he called all of us nearly a dozen times, back-to-back-to-back, yeah, I answered,” Jordan admitted.

“I thought he was still blocked,” I said.

“I still have him blocked,” Whitt said. “But he got ahold of Jordan and told us what was going on.”

“Told you what exactly?”

Please, oh please, oh please, don’t have screwed up everything, Owen.

“Harvard,” Jordan said.

I jerked back at that response. The one I hadn’t at all been anticipating. Had Owen told them about our deal? If he had, wouldn’t they be mad about Chase? Because right now, it didn’t seem like that was the case.

“What about Harvard?” I asked.

“You withdrew from Harvard?” Whitt accused.

“Oh,” I whispered.

Oh. Oh no.

Shit, shit, shit.

How had Owen already found out that I’d withdrawn? I had only done it this week, and now, he was knocking down my brothers’ doors to get to me about it. Yes, I’d broken our promise. And he was within his power to break his side of the deal. Maybe it was too much to think that he was going to do the right thing. When had he ever done the right thing?

“Oh?” Whitt asked, fury building. “Just oh? That’s all you have to say? Harley, are you out of your mind?”

“I had good reason for doing what I did.”

“What could possibly be the reason?” Julian asked. “You got into Harvard Law School. You have to go.”

“Actually, I don’t.”

“This is what you’ve always wanted,” Whitt said desperately.

“It’s your dream,” West said. “You’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. This is like me quitting Cosmere.”

“This is nothing like that,” I insisted.

“It’s not far off,” Whitt agreed.

“Can I explain? Or is everyone going to talk over me?” I spat.

Jordan held his hands up. Julian leaned against the sofa, uncomfortable with the direction things were going but still interested. West took a step back. Whitt looked like he wanted to punch something.

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