“You like her.”

“You punched Derek for her.”

“Bitch, please. I did that for you.”

He laughs lightly, leaning back in his seat to light another joint. “The second time, maybe.”

Kai shuts his big mouth for once and glances off when Wren subconsciously runs his finger over the ink on his left wrist, something he does when he's thinking about her - the stupid fucking whore who broke him. It's an antique style black and white key with a princess crown for a handle, the words never forever written along the edge.

It used to say forever.

Just then, movement catches my eye and I look over, licking my lips when Callie stands up on her tiptoes and leans over the balcony to watch the city below her. Her hair’s still damp from her shower, falling over her shoulders in messy waves, her naturally pretty face is free of all that black shit she wears but doesn't need, her peach ass looks damn near bitable in those gray sweats she's wearing and that little white tank does nothing to hide her hard nipples due to the chill in the air up here.

She grins at nothing.

Fuck me, she's beautiful.

"Goddamn, that tight little body." Kai hisses, shamelessly adjusting his cock in his jeans.

"You think she's been shared before?" Wren asks, blowing his smoke up to the sky.

“I don’t know but that ass is mine." He licks his lips, fighting a grin. "You can have her pussy. Big brother can fuck that big mouth he likes so much."

They’re both laughing their asses off by this point and I growl, leaning back to run my hands through my hair. "Motherfuckers."

They laugh harder.

I neck my beer and grab another one to keep my hands busy because I'm pissed the fuck off and I don't know what to fucking do about it. She needs to be put in her goddamn place but I'm not stupid enough to assume that'll be easy. The infuriating little punk wears her attitude like armor, that permanent, sinful ass smirk crossing her sexy lips twenty four seven makes me wanna fuck her mouth just to see it move, and when my little brothers look at her like they want to eat her, I have to resist the urge to bash their heads together to remove her image from their fucked up minds.

This isn't right.

We don't fight over fuckin’ pussy and I sure as shit don't get possessive over it.

One word comes to mind when I look at her and I don't fucking like it.

Mine.

Chapter 7

Callie

I crack one eye open and check the time on the nightstand, groaning when I realize it’s a little after noon.

Goddamn this comfy ass bed.

I stretch out like a starfish a moment to appreciate all this new space I have, then I roll out of bed and throw a zip up hoodie on over my sweats to drag my hungover ass downstairs, relieved when I find the penthouse empty.

I lean my elbows on the kitchen counter to play on my phone while I wait for the fancy coffee maker to do its thing, frowning at the screen when I see my name pop up on the group chat Rachel added me to the other day despite me telling her to fuck herself. Scrolling up through the messages, I press play on the video taken of me in Derek's back yard last night. With a red cup in one hand and a joint in the other, I'm laughing at whatever Rachel's telling me, rolling my hips to the slow beat of the music and blowing my smoke up to the sky. The video zooms in on my ass and I lock my jaw, shaking my head when I eye the time stamp on it. It's no coincidence this was sent out just fifteen minutes before the Kingston brothers showed up last night. Turns out Elijah didn't rat me out and send his boys to come get me like I assumed he did, which means they came on their own.

Okay but why?

I toss my phone on the side and drop my head in my hands a moment, jumping out of my fucking skin when I hear a throat clear beside me.

“Rough night?” One of the twins smirks, leaning his ass back on the counter with his arms crossed over his bare chest.

I exhale a breath, silently cursing this fucking place and their marble floors. The floorboards don't creak in here like they did in the apartment, meaning I can't hear anyone coming.

He leans over me to grab the coffee pot so I move out of his way, shamelessly eyeing his inked chest and abs while he grabs two mugs from the cabinet overhead. He pours me one and slides it to me, eyeing me right back with his lazy stare and his already bloodshot eyes, and it’s only now I smell the fresh green on him. Seems he's already smoked a joint or two for breakfast even though it looks like he rolled out of bed the same time I did.