Page 60 of Overexposed

That had his eyebrows raising.

“Are you for fucking real? Is your head so far up your own ass that you think I’d mistake you for him? Ilikehim.” I let the rest of it dangle there, and if he got the impression I didn’t like him, well, served him right. “So you can just fuck right off.”

Not that I could close the door, because he was still holding it open. The microwave timer beeped to say it was done, not that I couldn’t tell from the rich, buttery scent of popcorn in the air.

Blowing out a breath, Seven kept his hand firm on the door while he pulled off his sunglasses. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Yes,” I said flatly. “I absolutely do mind. Go. A. Way.”

Despite the vain hope the rejection would send him away, he offered me no such reward.

“Look, I can stand out here and we can hash this out on your porch, or you can let me in and we can figure this out like adults.”

“Ooooorrrr,” I said, elongating the word, “we could go for that radical third option of you going the hell away. I dunno, I’m just spitballing.”

“You must be radically good at sucking dick for Gem to be so far gone on you.”

“Well, don’t worry, you’ll never find out,” I fired back.

“Trust me, I have all my shots and I’m still not interested.”

What a dick.

“Now, the paps could be anywhere, you know. They do like to follow me. As you arewellaware. So, by all means, let’s stand here and chat.”

“I hate you,” I muttered, then pulled the door wider.

“I hate you more, Stray,” he muttered as he passed me. Closing my eyes, I shut the door and steeled myself with a deep breath. He and his brother were night and day. Gem was sweet, sexy, and fun.

Seven was an asshole.

“Hey, Shutterbug,” Dad said, and I whirled to find him leaning heavily on his cane with one hand on the doorframe to the living room, where we’d moved his hospital bed. He stared at Seven Harrison with narrowed eyes. “We have company?”

“No one you need to worry about, Dad,” I said, hurrying around Seven to intercept Dad before he fell. “And you aren’t supposed to get up on your own. We’ve had this argument.”

“Yes, we have,” he said in an easy tone as I got an arm around him and he settled his arm on my shoulder. “We know it only frustrates you when I do what I want, so let’s just pretend we had the fight already and you can introduce me to the actor standing in our foyer.”

“Harrison,” Seven said, following me over and offering his hand to my father. “Seven Harrison, Mr. Charles.”

Dad studied him for a moment, the sharpness in his gaze and the fixed attention he focused on Seven belied any weakness. With care, he propped his cane against his leg before he accepted Seven’s handshake.

“Interesting. What can we do for you, Mr. Harrison?” Dad’s tone carried a warning, and Seven spared me a look.

“Actually, it’s what I can do for Stella—and I’m guessing you from the looks of things.”

Seven shoved his sunglasses into the pocket of his denim jacket. An odd choice for a man who was far more often photographed in suits and slacks or button-downs unless he was filming. The casual look was way more Gem. Then again, that made sense; he was probably trying to avoid notice.

“What canyoudo for my shutterbug?” A continued warning threaded through Dad’s question. Yeah, this was not something I needed Dad worrying about.

“Dad, why don’t we get you tucked back in and I’ll grab the popcorn? Once I get rid of Mr. Harrison, we can watch our movie.”

“What movie are we watching?” Seven asked as he stripped off his jacket. “I can get the popcorn for you if you want.”

This was rapidly cycling out of hand.

“Grab me a cold beer from the fridge while you’re at it, Mr. Harrison, and I won’t even complain if you take a couple of minutes of our time.”

“We don’t have any beer in the fridge,” I said, shooting the demon spawn a warning look. “And Mr. Harrison doesn’t need to stay here at all.”

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