Page 69 of Stay in Your Lane!

With some wincing, I rolled over to watch him in the thin early morning light. Once the pain in my back and side had eased—fuuuck I was sore—I couldn’t help smiling. He was seriously adorable. When he was awake, his brow was often furrowed and his forehead creased as if he were trying to concentrate on the present while also processing seven or eight completely unrelated thoughts in his mind. Asleep, though, his features smoothed out. Long strands of unruly brown hair tumbled over his face, and he didn’t look like he had a care in the world.

He did, though, and it did funny things to my insides to know he wasn’t only here because he wanted me. He wasworriedabout me. He was protective in a way I’d never experienced before, and as much as I didn’t like needing protection, I couldn’t lie—I liked it. I liked being with someone who actually seemed to care about me and my wellbeing. And it wasn’t likehe was getting more than a blowjob anytime soon; as much as I wanted to find out just how energetic and enthusiastic he was in bed, my body wasn’t quite there yet. Not until these bruises healed a little, which they were in no hurry to do.

Though I couldn’t complain about the blowjobs, either. A lot of guys thought it was weird that I preferred using condoms until we’d both had tests, and admittedly, that could make for a lackluster experience. Everett, though? Goddamn. It was probably good we’d used the rubber the first time—not because I thought he had anything, but because if he could drive me that wild with his mouth even through a layer of latex, he’d kill me when we nixed the barrier.

What a way to go, though.

The thought made me chuckle, and for once, that didn’t hurt. Hell, maybe I was healing after all.

But then I flew too close to the sun by rolling onto my back again, and… fuck. No. Not healed yet. Owww.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered as I waited for the pain to subside. Good thing Detective Reardon hadn’t busted any ribs. I’d heard those took a long,longtime to heal, and they were super painful for weeks on end. Fuck that noise.

Once I could breathe again, I—carefully this time—moved again, cautiously rolling to my feet. I sat on the edge of the bed for a moment to let the stars in my vision clear, and then I got up and shuffled to the bathroom.

The cats took advantage of there being two people in the house, and they divided and conquered with their morning breakfast demands. Patches sang me the song of her people (the one about how her people saw the bottoms of their food dishes and it was just famine forever and ever) while Jeff walked all over Everett. Somehow, Everett slept through the assault, and even after I plucked Jeff off him, he didn’t wake up.

Good. We both needed as much sleep as we could get these days. With my phone in one hand, Jeff under my arm, and Patches on my heels, I left the bedroom so Everett could sleep in.

They both sang the lamentations of their starving ancestors while I fixed their breakfast. As soon as the bowls hit the floor, the caterwauling was replaced by the happy sounds of crunching and purring.

“Drama queens,” I muttered.

The fish weren’t quite so theatrical in their demands, but I did get a dirty look from Steve. Granted some of that was the fish version of resting bitch face, but the way he tried to nip my hand suggested some actual anger and malice.

“This is why people have dogs,” I said as I fed the scaly ingrates. “They’re polite, and they don’t literally bite the hand that feeds them.”

I swear to God, Steve glared at me like,“I could take off your finger and you’d still feed me, bitch.”

Yeah, he was probably right.

I wondered if anyone in high school had ever thought to nominate me“Most likely to be a doormat for predatory fish.”I would’ve won for sure.

With my boyfriend snoozing and my animals eating, I settled on the couch with a cup of coffee. About five minutes into my morning doomscroll, though, my phone rang.

Colin.

Oh, fuck. This could be… well, it could be really good, really bad, or a gigantic nothing burger. Hoping for really good, I accepted the call.

“Hey, what’s?—”

“We’ve got a problem,” my brother announced.

“Another one?” I muttered.

“Yes.” He pushed out a breath, and I could almost see him shoving a hand through his hair in frustration. “Could youhavemaybetold me you were getting a goddamnedlawyerinvolved in this? Because it’s making things seriously fucking complicated, Kyle.”

My stomach flipped. “A lawyer? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid. Who the fuck else would’ve?—”

“Dude, I didn’t get a lawyer involved in anything. The only lawyer I even know is my ex, and I sure as shit didn’t call her.” I may have been desperate to figure out this situation, but I wasn’t desperate enough to reach out to the woman who’d tried to find some legal loophole that made it illegal to own piranhas. I could forgive her cheating on me with her rich-ass boss, but there was no going back after she tried to get animal control to confiscate my fish.

Colin gave a long-suffering sigh. “Then you might want to have a conversation with that boyfriend of yours, because it sounds like this came from his camp. I just figured you knew about it.”

Irritation knotted in the pit of my stomach, but it wasn’t just with Colin. Had Everett contacted a lawyer? Had he gotten someone involved in this without telling me? Christ. I knew he was earnest about resolving this situation, but it kind of hurt that he’d make a move like this and not even mention it. What the hell?

I exhaled. “I need to talk to Everett, but what’s going on? What’s the lawyer doing?”

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