Page 82 of Brazen Criminals

Emma crawls up next to me, pulling me into a hug. “Why?” she asks.

“Because I don’t think I can choose. And I don’t think I’m ready for anything serious, not really, not so soon after Bryce.”

She holds me close, and my thudding heart slows down.

“Do you want my opinion?” she asks.

I pull back, looking into her blue eyes, serious for once. I nod.

“Love doesn’t always make sense.”

“I’m not in love with them,” I say.

She pushes my words away, not letting me finish. “I’m just saying, I think everything you said can be true at the same time. You can want something casual. You can have feelings for more than one person. The only part of this that isn’t true is that it’s terrible.”

“But I’m cheating, or almost cheating.”

Emma chews on her lip, taking a minute to get her thoughts together. “You know the pattern, right? You date someone,and thenyou talk about if you want to be exclusive. People default to monogamy, but that talk wouldn’t be part of a relationship check-in if dating more than one person at a time wasn’t a thing, right? I think you can just tell them you don’t want anything serious, but that you want to date them all. See what happens after that.”

I groan and flop back on the couch. “I can’t date the four guys I live with. That’s just looking for trouble. Also, I’m like sixty percent sure Trips hates me, and that announcement would shove him one hundred percent into the ‘I hate Clara’ camp.”

“He is a bitchy one, isn’t he?” Emma says.

“Bitchy?” Has anyone ever called Trips bitchy before?

The thought makes me giggle, and when I snort, Emma crumples onto the floor, laughing so hard she has to slide her drink across the coffee table to keep from spilling it. That maneuver amps up my own giggle fit, turning it from cackles to full-on hysteria.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I’m laughing too hard to wiggle it out. Gasping, I try to get some air into my lungs, but it takes a couple of attempts to get enough oxygen to start to wind down. Finally, I gain enough control to sit up straight-ish and pull my phone out.

The alert immediately kills my laughter—Bryce is here.

Emma sees my face and snatches my phone out of my hands. “Shit,” she says, handing it back to me.

“Call the cops,” I say, sending out an SOS in the group chat to my guys. I look around the living room, but there’s nothing helpful, so I sprint to the kitchen, pulling a small saucepan out of the cabinet just as the pounding starts on the front door.

“Clara! Clara, please, I just want to talk!” Bryce’s voice cuts through the thin wood door.

“Bryce, you’re not allowed to be here,” I yell back, my hands shaking so badly the saucepan is waving around like I’m swatting flies.

“Please, Clara, I don’t have anybody left.” He sounds so broken that a piece of me shatters, too. I don’t know what to say. I did this to him—I asked the guys to help, and now Bryce is all alone.

“Go away,” Emma screams, her phone still up to her ear.

Bryce pounds on the door, each fist against the wood making me jump. A loud bang thunders through the room, and I know he’s trying to kick his way in. “I swear to God, Clara, you and those damn criminals are going to pay for this!” Another kick reverberates in the room, followed by silence.

I’m still bracing myself against the counter, the sauce pot clenched in my fist, while the sirens squeal in the parking lot. Emma lets an officer in before prying the pot from my hand, then pulls me into a hug. Before the officer can sit me down to take my statement, Trips is in the room, somehow slipping past the other officer and rushing up to me. My officer goes to block him, but I squeak out, “It’s okay, he’s a friend.”

Trips stops in front of me, reaching out like he’s going to hug me, but stops halfway, jamming his hands into his pockets. “Did he hurt you?” he asks.

“He didn’t get in.”

Darkness flashes across his face, and he curses, storming out of the apartment. Emma shoots me a “what the fuck?” look and I shrug. Trips probably just needs to walk it off, but I fucking wish he could keep his shit together for longer than three seconds at a time—I need him, here, with me, even if it doesn’t make sense.

The officer takes my statement. His partner takes Emma’s. I consider skimming over Bryce calling the guys criminals, but don’t, only wishing Emma knew what I do, that she was keeping this secret with me.

I want Trips here—he can let me know if I’m making the right choice telling the full truth.

The officers file out as the rest of my guys rush in, Trips at the back, avoiding eye contact. I get hugs from Jansen and Walker, and RJ gives my shoulder a squeeze. Trips glares at the corner of the door, cracked by the force of Bryce’s kicks.

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