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“You sound like Jordan.”

At the mention of their brother, the men’s eyes all skipped over one another.

“Jordan knew about this?” Josiah asked.

Phoebe folded her arms. “This is beyond ridiculous. You guys act as if I’m sixteen years old! I’m a grown woman, damn it!” And she was tired of shouting it, but no one seemed to be listening.

“You’re right,” Jonas admitted, and Phoebe, Eden, or Jasmine couldn’t believe he’d said it. “You are a grown woman. Who you date is your business. But that doesn’t mean it won’t have consequences.”

“You haven’t even given him a chance,” she said. “How’s that fair? None of us thought any of you would change and get married, but you did! How does Quentin not get a fair chance?” Phoebe’s chest was tight, and periodically a tear would escape her eyes.

“I don’t have a problem with giving Quentin a chance,” Jonas said, “but not with you.”

Phoebe was so heartbroken she could’ve screamed. She shouted and turned to face Quentin. She angled her head up to his face as she stood so close to him she could feel his breath as he exhaled. “Let’s go, this is pointless, please.”

Quentin took his gaze from her brothers and glanced down at her worry-filled eyes. The door chimed as Jonathon walked back through it headed in their direction. Quentin placed a hand on Phoebe and pulled her back to the side, preparing himself for a fight with Jonathon.

Jonathon pushed through his brothers, but they grabbed him as Jonathon pointed at Quentin.

“Choose,” Jonathon growled, leveling Quentin with a deadly glare.

“Jonathon!” Phoebe screamed, but Jonathon ignored her. He knew Phoebe would do what she wanted, and it wasn’t his place to stop her, but this wasn’t between Phoebe and Jonathon. It wasn’t about her ability to be able to pick out a respectful suitor to date because she didn’t really know what Quentin was capable of. But Jonathon did, and this was between him and Quentin.

“Choose now,” Jonathon said. “Are you taking our sister out, or are you sticking with our agreement… brother,” he spat for good measure, making sure Quentin understood the totality of what his decision would mean for their friendship.

Quentin and Jonathon’s stare-down was so lethal it was like mixing chemicals that would set off an explosive display of bombs.

“I won’t hurt her,” Quentin said.

Jonathon nodded with understanding. “You’re done.”

And with that, Jonathon turned, leaving them all watching his retreating back.

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