Julian swishes his beer in a brief moment of contemplation (not long enough apparently) because he stupidly says, “I’ve already slept in the same bed as her before. I don’t see the big deal.”
Lo lets out a short laugh like is this guy for real? “You don’t see the big deal?” He steps forward. “Let me spell it out for you Julius—”
“Julian—” he barely has time to correct him.
“You’re twenty-fucking-three,” Lo says, not missing a beat. “How old are you, Connor?”
“Twenty-four.”
Lo turns to Ryke and mockingly tilts his head. “What about you, Ryke?”
“Twenty-three,” Ryke says.
Lo touches his chest. “I’m twenty-two myself.”
“That’s great,” Julian says a little dumbfounded as to what’s going on. Just wait, Julian. He’s getting there.
“I consider myself fairly smart,” Lo says, “but you must be a real fucking idiot if you think we’d be okay with someone our age sleeping with our girlfriends’ seventeen-year-old little sister.”
Julian’s not even intelligent enough to catch the obvious flaw in Lo’s statement—that Ryke doesn’t even have a girlfriend in this scenario.
He shrugs, still not seeing the issue. “She’s a model, man. We’ve spent nights at our friends’ flats in New York City together. She’s snorted coke before. I think she’s past the overprotective brother routine. Maybe if you haven’t noticed, she’s pretty mature.”
Lo grits his teeth and turns his head to me. “Can you believe this guy?”
I can believe he’s a moron, yes. But his argument is valid. It doesn’t mean I think he should be spending the night in Daisy’s bed. I’m not even sure she wants that. “You’re sleeping on the couch,” I tell him calmly.
He just shakes his head with a pouty lip, not even considering it. “No, I’m not.”
“I’m seriously going to kick his fucking ass,” Ryke says to us.
“I’m standing right here, man,” Julian retorts. “What’s your deal?”
“You’re twenty-three,” Ryke snaps, “and you’re fucking a girl who’s seventeen.”
“We’re not fucking. And aren’t you the one on Princesses of Philly who’s always around Daisy?” His eyebrows rise in accusation. “Maybe you’re the one fucking her. Or maybe you’re just jealous. Yeah, that’s probably it.”
Before Ryke has the chance to lunge, Lo steps in front of his body, blocking him from Daisy’s boyfriend.
“Julius,” Lo says, purposefully using his name wrong now that he knows it irritates him, “maybe you’re feeling a little goddamn disgusting being with a seventeen-year-old. Keep your shitty feelings to yourself. Don’t project them onto my brother.”
“I’m not projecting anything. Have you see the way he looks at her? He wishes he was me right now.”
Lo would normally have a snide retort ready, but he’s busy restraining Ryke who tries to charge forward, probably to sock Julian in the face. Lo rests his arm against his brother’s chest, forcing him back.
Ryke stares disgustedly at Daisy’s boyfriend, and the guy just leisurely sips his beer. But I sense an antagonizing quality in Julian’s fixed stance, in the way he watches Ryke with a hawkeyed gaze. He’s the type of guy who’d love to fight him—just to prove he’s the bigger fucking man. Ryke, on the other hand, just wants to protect that girl inside. It’s an interesting dynamic. One that I’d almost love to witness, but stirring that shit just gives Scott what he wants. And I’d rather smash in his face than help grow his ingratiating smile.
“We all win some,” Julian says to Ryke, “and we all lose some. You’ll find another girl who’s a better fit for you. Though she won’t be as hot as Daisy, and there’s no way she’ll lick cock as well either.”
Lo’s jaw unhinges.
Ryke almost loses it. He shouts a string of curses at the top of his lungs. I catch motherfucker, cocksucker, and a new one—dickfucker. I would laugh, but I want to throw Julian off the porch just as badly—I just don’t express myself with such vehement aggression.
Veins pop in Ryke’s neck, his face reddening as he shouts and points at Julian, who starts to scream back.
“You don’t know shit about that girl!” Ryke yells.
“And you do, right?!”
“Fuck you!” is Ryke’s only response.
This has turned into a moron battle. Fists would be more appropriate right now. But the only thing keeping Ryke from laying into Julian is Loren who stands between them, a human barrier.
I don’t even try to calm him down. A deep part of me just wants Ryke to hit him.
“Sorry, man,” Julian taunts as their voices lower. “You should have started dating her a year ago when she was single. You can have her when I’m done.”
A foul taste rises in my mouth.
Lo glares at Julian like the world shifted without his consent. “What the fuck did you just say?”
Ryke wears pure darkness in his eyes, nothing else. His muscles flex the longer he has to withstand this guy.
“He can have her when I’m done,” Julian repeats. “I can give you the exact date. I’ll need about three hours on February 20th of next year. Then you can have her. Mark your calendar.”
February 20th. Her eighteenth birthday.
And right as Lo is about to move out of the way and unleash his pissed off brother, the backdoor opens. Lily steps outside, wearing Rose’s black fur coat that swallows her skinny frame. Everyone stays tense, but no one makes a move to hit Julian in front of her.
“Hey, guys.” She shuffles to our group as we go silent. She notices the strain between the guys, and she quickly slides in the middle of Lo and Julian to try to diminish the prospect of a fight.
The girls are clever.
“Rose and Daisy want to play a game.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “A drinking game though.”
Ryke peels his gaze off Julian and stares down at her. “The three of us don’t fucking drink, so how does that work?” He gestures to Lily and Lo.
Lily shrugs. “I think we should participate somehow. It’ll be fun.”
I chime in, “You three can play the strip version.”
Lo lets out a short laugh. “Always trying to get me naked.”
My lips rise.
“Oh, and Rose wants to talk to you,” Lily nods to Julian.
“Great,” Julian says with added sarcasm. He even rolls his eyes, probably wishing he stayed home. He leaves our group and Ryke loses his chance to lay a fist into him.
Lo watches Julian disappear inside. “That was the first time I didn’t warn a guy to protect his balls before talking to Rose.”
“That’s because we all hope she crushes them,” Ryke says roughly.
I remember how delicately she held my cock for the first time, and I try my best to hide my smile into my next sip of wine.
I know her better than anyone.
CHAPTER 26
ROSE CALLOWAY