Page 74 of Billionaire's Promise
Weston, stands in the doorway, his face wreathed in a big smile. "Baron!" He grabs my arm and hauls me in for a hug. I stand stiffly, while he thumps my back, "I still can’t believe you are back among us."
"Me neither," I mutter.
He releases me, then steps back and peers into my face. "You don’t look like you got much sleep, though."
"You don’t say." I scowl.
Motherfucker looks freshly scrubbed, his skin glowing with health. He’s wearing a beard, which he hadn’t had when we were younger. Of course, that was years ago. I am still getting used to seeing the physical changes in my friends. Emotionally and mentally, though, they are still the same. Which means, all of them have the intelligence of a twelve-year-old—collectively.
Weston’s smile widens. Shit, doesn’t the man have anything better to do than look happy at the world? And content? Yeah, it comes off of him in waves. He reeks of happiness and fulfillment and all those emo words that I’d never have associated with any of the Seven. But then, I’d have never thought that I’d fall for a woman who was taken either… So yeah, shit happens.
I brush past him and walk inside. "So," I clear my throat, "I take it Saint doesn’t know that I am coming to this little reunion?"
"He’ll come around." Weston claps my back. "You know Saint. His bark is more dangerous than his bite."
"No, actually. I don’t." I scowl. "The last few times I’ve met him, he’s made it clear he doesn’t want anything to do with me."
"Yeah." Weston’s smile diminishes in wattage. Thank fuck. He was beginning to creep me out with all that happiness pouring off of him. There should be a law against any of the Seven being in such good spirits. I mean, it’s practically written—somewhere—that the Seven needed to be growly, grumpy alphaholes, like me. So, to see them jovial and chilled out, like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary, or in this case, like men who’ve found the loves of their lives, is disconcerting, to say the least.
"Saint’s a bit of a complex character," Weston offers.
"Aren’t we all?"
"Good thing Edward’s not here. This way, you only have to deal with one pissed off wanker at a time—"
I shoot him a glance and he winces. "Oops, sorry, slip of the tongue. I didn’t mean to—"
"It’s fine," I drawl, "I am not going to collapse bawling if you speak about E."
"You’re the only guy who was close enough to Ed to call him that."
"I’m also the only one who dared challenge him when he said he was going to join the seminary," I mutter.
"You knew him better than we did."
"None of you guys dissuaded him, either."
"He was hell bent on it." Weston frowns. "Considering what we went through, if that was what brought him some measure of peace then…" he shrugs, "who were we to step in between him and his calling?"
"Calling." I snort. "He was running away from facing his demons."
"Like you did." A new voice cuts in.
I turn to find Saint prowling toward us.
"You were saying?" I scowl.
"That you were the one who abandoned us."
"I joined the army," I snap.
"Without telling any of us."
"Didn’t think it mattered, either way."
Saint closes the distance between us so quickly that I blink. He grabs my collar, hauls me up, "If you had only cared enough to open your eyes and see how your leaving was going to impact the rest of us. If you had only thought of anyone else except yourself."
"I did," I say through gritted teeth, "It’s why I left, you tosser."
