Page 51 of Unhinged
“You have two swimming pools? Who needs two pools in one house? Your dad lives alone. Does he just get up in the morning and look at one pool and be like, ‘Nah, not this one,’ and go to the other? Two kitchens, too? And a kitchen outside? What does somebody do with an oven outside? Decide to bake a turkey poolside? Is that a golf course?”
Adam laughed. “There’s a bowling alley, too. And a shooting range.”
“Shut up,” Noah marveled.
“You’re welcome to use any part of the house any time you want. It’s my house, too.”
Noah shook his head. “No, thank you. This place is too big. It gives me anxiety, like I’d get lost and be doomed to wander the halls forever trying to find the exit.”
Adam wrapped his arms around him from behind as they looked out over the bigger of the two swimming pools. “How did I never notice how weird you are?”
Noah craned his head back to look up at him. “Your dad has a shooting range…in his house…and I’m the weird one? Maybe you’re just a spoiled brat.”
“Oh, I definitely am. It’s my job. Adam Mulvaney, spoiled youngest son of Thomas Mulvaney. Former model turned unrepentant playboy. Bedding actors and rich boys, wrecking cars, and spending money on dumb shit.”
“Sounds like a really hard life,” Noah mused.
Before he could respond, a voice rang out. “Adam.”
He spun around at his father’s voice, bringing Noah with him. His father wore a pair of tailored pants and a white oxford shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. Even at close to fifty, Adam’s father was striking, with silver black hair, gray eyes, and tan skin. He stopped short as his gaze fell to Noah.
“Dad. This is Noah.”
Thomas flicked his gaze to Noah, then back to Adam. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing somebody with you.”
“I told Atticus. And it’s not just somebody. It’s Noah. I told you about him.”
His father shot another irritated look at Noah then turned on his heel. “Let’s go. You’ve wasted enough time. You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”
Adam stood, blinking, shocked at his father’s rudeness. What the hell was his problem? His gaze cut to Noah, who seemed sad at his father’s casual dismissal but looked almost like he’d expected it. Still, he squeezed Adam’s hands that were still wrapped around his waist.
“We should probably get in there. Unless you think I should wait out here?”
“No. You have every right to be here. I don’t know what my father’s problem is, but it’s his problem, not ours.”
The meetings always took place in the locked room downstairs, accessible only with the keypad at the door. His brothers were already gathered. Asa and Avi perched on the large table, and Archer, August, and Atticus sat in the chairs. There were several pictures tacked up on the board, faces only.
When they entered, all eyes went to Noah. None of them looked surprised, so Atticus must have already broken the news that Adam was bringing him.
“Oh, are we allowed to bring strangers down here now?” Atticus asked. “You would never let Kendra down here and we were together for three years.”
“Kendra would have had us all on TMZ getting carted out in handcuffs,” Adam snapped. “Besides, Noah already knows about us.”
Archer gave Noah a calculating once-over. “How is that, by the way? How is it this stranger knows all our secrets?”
“I’m great at connecting dots,” Noah said, giving Archer the same cold stare he was getting.
“He’s not a stranger,” Adam snapped.
“You’ve known him for less than a week. That’s the definition of stranger,” August said drolly.
Adam’s skin began to crawl, heat flaring in his belly and radiating outward. “We’ve known each other for weeks.”
“You’ve been stalking him for weeks,” August clarified. “Hardly the same thing.”
“If you count the time I stalked him, we’ve been in each other’s lives for almost two years,” Noah countered, gaze defiant.
Archer snorted. “Two years? You’ve had a tail for two years and you never noticed? Are we really just going to sweep that under the rug?”
