Page 27 of Phantom Faceoff
I cross my arms and press my back against the counter. “One would think you’d avoid drinking in my presence,” I say, watching his eyes narrow. “Might feel me up again.”
Zander groans. “I didn’t feel you up,” he hisses through clenched teeth, but it’s here that I realize he isn’t angry.
The pink on his cheeks I can barely make out in the darkness gives it way.
He’s embarrassed.
“You thought about it.” I can’t help the twitch of a smirk that tugs at my lips.
He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his sweats, shoulders slumping with the weight of his sigh.
“Did you say anything to Julian?”
Just like that, I’m reminded of the Big Bad Wolf stereotype dangling above my head. Of course I would antagonize him with my best friend’s feelings simply because I disapprove of them seeing each other.
“I get that I’m a buzzkill or whatever,” I say, and his eyes widen in the dim light. “But I don’t start drama for the hell of it. Nothing happened. No reason to wind him up.”
Zander visibly relaxes, dragging a hand through his hair. “Thanks. I have enough shit to worry about without Julian being mad at me.”
“Jules is a force. But I wouldn’t sick him on you unless I had a damn good reason.”
He pulls open the fridge and tosses a bottle of water over the door in my direction. I barely manage to catch it, throwing him a glare in response.
A dimpled smile forms on his face. “Here’s to not giving you a reason.” He takes a swig of his own water. “Is failing your little Swiftie Analysis Course a reason?”
“No, but you lose serious credibility points for taste in music.” A stretch of quiet follows Zander’s chuckle, darkness engulfing us with the closing of the refrigerator door. “How’d your test go?”
Zander clicks his tongue. “I got a B.”
That shouldn’t make me smile, but damn it, it’s hard not to be a little proud of the guy.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
My grin widens. “Like what?”
“Smug bastard.”
The laugh tears its way out of my throat, and it’s so loud and absurd that it draws company. Julian teeters into the kitchen a little closer to wasted, so I immediately hook an arm around his waist and thrust my bottle of water at him.
He’s uncoordinated and giggly, but he manages a few sips before pushing it away.
I sure hope Hale didn’t plan on getting lucky tonight, because like hell am I letting Julian get laid with his head this much of a mess.
“Getting along?” he asks, reaching an arm out toward Zander, who hesitantly slides in and accepts the broken triangle of a hug chain we’ve got going on.
“Not killing each other,” I say. “It’s a start.”
Julian presses his lips to my cheek, brushing my ear as he pulls away. “Thank you, Daddy.”
A warm flush falls over my cheeks, and Zander’s stare is like a laser pointer.
Swallowing a lump in my throat, I keep my attention on Jules. “I think someone needs to get home and have a shower.”
He pouts and tugs the both of us closer.
Zander cups his hand over Julian’s cheek and guides their eyes to one another. “Malachi is right.”
A thrill shoots up my spine, and my body responds in ways I refuse to acknowledge. All he said was mynamefor fucks sake.
