Damn, he wanted to kiss her. It wouldn’t take much with her upturned face right there, her mouth mere inches away. All he had to do was drop his head and—
The elevator doors opened and someone cleared his throat. Cam’s head whipped up, which made the room spin around him, and it took a long moment to focus on his twin standing in the elevator.
Vaughn scowled at the two of them and stepped out of the car. “Where the hell have you been all night? When you didn’t return, Reece started panicking and launched a search.”
Translation: Vaughn started panicking, not Reece. He always assigned his emotions to one of their other brothers, especially if he thought said emotions were not befitting of a former SEAL. Like panic, for instance.
“Hey, now.” Eva stepped forward, putting herself between them. She didn’t let go of Cam, though. Mainly because she’d probably topple over if she did. Hell, he’d probably topple over if she did.
“Don’t be mad at him. He was commiser…acating with me over my horrible taste in men.” She pouted and tipped her head back to gaze up at Cam. “Why the does everyone lie to me?”
“Commiserating?” Vaughn sneered. “Is that what you call getting him shitfaced drunk?”
“Vaughn…” Cam said with a note of warning that clearly told his twin to back the fuck off the protective “big” brother routine. The guy was only ten minutes older for christssakes. He turned his attention back to Eva and gave her a light squeeze. “I’ve never lied to you.”
Well, not exactly. Some might call him keeping his feelings to himself a lie, but he preferred to think of it as an omission for her own good. If he told her how he felt, she might get her hopes up, start fantasizing about that happily ever after she secretly craved, and he wasn’t the kind of man that could give it. He was not the marriage or family type and he couldn’t hurt her like that.
But he’d never tell her an outright lie.
“That’s because you’re a good friend.” She patted his chest and looked at Vaughn, her chin lifting in defense. “And he’s not drunk.”
Vaughn glared at them both. “Bullshit. He can’t even stand up straight.”
“Okay, maybe I am,” Cam said. “What’s it to you? I don’t need your permission to have a few.”
Vaughn growled low in his throat, his bad mood darkening the air around him like a cloud. And what the fuck was up with that? While he definitely wasn’t always roses and sunshine, he wasn’t usually a flat-out jerk like this, either.
“Man, who stuck a poker up your ass and left it there? C’mon, leave Eva alone. She’s already had a rough night.”
“No, it’s fine, Cam. Although…” She gave Vaughn an apprising up-down that would have scalded a lesser man. “It still astounds me that you two share the same DNA when he’s a complete jackass and you’re…well, not. All the time.”
Vaughn’s lip curled. “He got all the good genes.”
“Obviously. Now if you’ll excuse us, I need to go to my room before I pass out, and Cam is the only thing holding me up right now. So, shoo, evil twin.”
Cam tried not to laugh. He really did, but Vaughn looked like one of those angry Saturday morning cartoon characters, the ones with heaving chests and bulging eyes and smoke pouring out of their ears. Besides, Cam was usually the first to defend his twin, but this time, Vaughn deserved to be knocked down a peg. Whatever had put him in such a pissy mood, he didn’t need to be taking it out on Eva.
Without another word, Vaughn stalked past them, heading toward the bar they’d just left.
“I recommend the Prairie Fire,” Eva called after him.
Cam grinned and jabbed the button for the elevator, which had left without them. “He’ll probably like it. His SEAL buddies call him Tabasco because he carries around a plastic bottle of the stuff and puts it on everything.”
Eva made a face. “Really? Gross.”
“Yup. We may share our DNA, but we definitely weren’t born with the same taste buds.”
The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. The ride up to the fourth floor started in an easy silence, but the confined space and the way she leaned against his side, her breast occasionally brushing his arm, started to get to him. He caught a light floral scent from her hair and he dipped his head closer to breathe it in. Probably just her shampoo since he knew for a fact she rarely wore perfume. Even so, he found the scent intoxicating.
Or maybe that was just the alcohol in his system.
Or a mixture of both.
A distant, muffled alarm started signaling in the back of his mind as the elevator opened to their floor. Her room was only three doors to the left. His and Vaughn’s was six doors to the right, and part of him—the part shooting off warning flares—thought this should be his stop. He could stand right here by the elevator and watch her until she was safely inside her room. Then he’d go back downstairs and—
“Would you mind staying with me for a while?” she blurted, then glanced away. “I’m, uh, not really ready to be alone with my thoughts yet.”
Bad. Idea.