Page 28 of Where We Belong

Huxley shakes his head bitterly. “Want my advice? Delete his number, block him everywhere, and tell the family he’s not welcome anymore.”

I bite my lip. “He doesn’t have anyone but us…”

“It’s either you or him, and I’m biased—you’re my twin. He’s disposable.”

“But he’s family,” I protest. “We Spearmans open the doors to others and keep them forever. You can’t just kick him out.”

Before Huxley can argue further, Gatsby jogs up to us. “What did I miss? Tried to get here sooner, but traffic was a fucking nightmare.” His gaze darts between us. “Do we need a new legal team for the lawsuit?”

“No, they’ve got it handled,” Huxley assures him. “We won’t settle. This guy tries to shake down small companies into paying him off. Well, we’re shutting his operation down instead.”

Gatsby exhales in relief, shoulders loosening. “Good. But what’s with the faces?” His eyes narrow with concern.

“It’s nothing,” I say quickly, sliding on my sunglasses to hide my unease.

“Uh-huh. You look thrilled. Life’s clearly amazing,” Gatsby retorts dryly. “Come on, what’s the deal?”

“She’s having man drama,” Huxley blurts out. “Wanna join our slumber party and dish?”

Gatsby’s eyes widen slightly. I know he remembers my emo-teen years. I resist the urge to grind my teeth in annoyance. I’m not sixteen anymore—I can handle this.

“It’s not a big deal. I’ve got it covered,” I state firmly.

Gatsby bobs his head slowly. “Alright, but I’m having Lang, Caspian’s agent, run a background check on your boyfriend just to be safe. It’s past time.”

Panic spears through me. “Don’t do that. Please.” I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with Bodhi, but he has no right to invade his privacy just because he can’t trust anyone.

Gatsby’s eyes narrow. “Then introduce us properly. We’ll all meet at the winery on Sunday for family dinner.”

I shake my head quickly. “That’s not… I’m not bringing anyone.”

He shrugs. “Fine, but don’t complain when I know his social security number, his favorite food, and his driving record by Monday morning.”

I scowl. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Probably so, but if he’s going to be in your life, we need to meet him,” Gatsby states firmly.

I grit my teeth. “If you scare him off, I swear—”

“That’s usually Heath and Ben’s area. But Heath’s away, and Ben’s occupied, so your guy will be safe from them. At least for now.”

I open my mouth to argue but then close it. He’s right—it’s often Heath who sabotages my relationships. I doubt Benedict has ever cared enough to intervene.

“Fine, I’ll bring him unless he has a family thing,” I concede.

Gatsby’s eyes narrow. “He should bring his family too.”

I shake my head sharply. “No, he can’t.”

“Why not?” Huxley asks, frowning.

I sigh, casting my eyes downward. “He’s not allowed to introduce me to his kids.”

Gatsby’s nostrils flare, but he simply asks, “I see. And why is that?” His tone is measured, but I can detect a simmering anger beneath the surface.

I wave a hand vaguely, unwilling to explain further.

After a heavy moment, Gatsby nods. “Just be careful, alright? You need to figure this out because if he’s married or stringing you along… just watch yourself.”

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