Page 33 of The Bridges I've Burned

What was it they said about famous last words?

“No, absolutely not!”

“Doesn’t he have somewhere else to stay?”

We both spoke at the same time, and I jerked my head across the living room and found Zander staring at his brother with a look of total outrage.

Wait, what?

Why would he say no?

This wasn’t his idea?

Marin and I had no sooner walked back through the front door than Macon hit me up with a ridiculous request—asking if I would mind sharing the rental house with his brother.

Is he crazy?

“My other two rentals are booked. Besides, it’s just for a day,” Macon added. “And…” His eyes turned to Zander.

“Don’t, Macon,” he warned, begging his brother to stay quiet.

“What?” I demanded. “What am I not getting here?”

Zander must have noticed the moment his big brother had decided to rat him out because he groaned loudly, his palms digging into his eye sockets.

God, even that was attractive.

Shut up, Elena.

“He doesn’t have anywhere else to stay.”

“What?” My eyes went wide, staring at him as he tried to avoid my gaze. “Where did you go last night after?—”

Macon’s eyes went wild, darting between his little brother and me. “Last night?”

Marin’s face turned the color of a tomato as she turned to her fiancé. “That was something I didn’t exactly get a chance to explain over the phone.”

Macon’s expression hardened, and he instantly morphed from loving fiancé to intimidating officer of the law. His intense stare pinned me down, even though he directed his words at Marin. “Explain what?”

If this was what it was like to be interrogated by him, just throw the cuffs on me now.

“Marin and Zander kind of met last night.” She swallowed as she fidgeted with her hands. “At the taphouse.”

“You…met?” Confusion turned to horror as his gaze ping-ponged between the two of us. “Did you?—”

“No!” both of us exclaimed as we ignored each other.

Macon stared at us, and I could tell he wasn’t at all convinced.

“We met at the bar, grabbed a booth, and had dinner,” I told him. “That’s it. I didn’t even know his name until this morning.”

“Do you usually not ask your dinner dates their names?” Macon asked before he held up a hand. “You know what? Not important. Getting Zander off the beach for the night? That’s my focus right now.”

I fought the urge to turn toward him, imagining him all alone on the beach while I slept in a big house, all by myself.

“He can stay with me.” I relented.

“No—” Zander tried to argue before Macon cut him off.

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