“I know, but seriously, I can’t miss this opportunity. I’d be thrown out of the female gender if I passed it up.”
I glance over my shoulder at her. She’s not looking at my face; that’s for damn sure.
“Impossible.”
“Come on, stop stalling. Oh, wait. Closer to the screen first.”
Shaking my head and deciding that payback is going to be fun, I walk toward the screen and lower my pants so my ass is hanging out.
“Shirt, Cav.”
With one hand, I pull up my shirt. “Woman, when I get my hands on—”
“Shhh. I’m appreciating this.”
Several moments of silence follow before I crane my head around to see what she’s doing. Greer stands and comes toward me, her eyes darting from the screen to my ass.
“Well, I’ll be damned. That is the finest ass I’ve ever seen.”
And before I know what she’s going to do, she tosses something at it. I flinch when I feel the edge of something hit my right cheek.
“What the—” My eyes snap to Greer’s.
She’s ducking her head, her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. “I had to see if I could bounce a quarter off it.”
“Where did you find . . .”
She jerks her head toward the couch. “Between the cushions. I took it as a sign.”
I yank my pants back up and drop my shirt before turning and rushing her. Tackling Greer to the couch, I cover her with my body and silence her laughter with my lips. When I finally pull away, I stare into her dark gaze, sparkling with humor.
“I fucking love this, Greer.”
Her eyes go wide and a small smile curves her lips. Both hands slap down on my ass, and she squeezes.
“I do too.”
I’ve been dreading this call, but I know I can’t keep putting it off. Creighton has to be losing his mind. I’m surprised there aren’t already milk cartons with my picture on them, actually.
Do they even still do that? Who drinks milk from a carton anyway? Parents in Manhattan probably don’t allow dairy in schools these days.
And once again, I’m trying to put off calling my brother. He’s going to yell. I hate it when he yells. Especially when I know he’s well within his rights to yell. Although, to be fair, I didn’t kidnap myself. But it’s not like I can use that as an excuse. He’d kill Cav. But then he couldn’t use Dom to bury the body.
Stop.
I woman up and pick up Cav’s house phone. I have very few numbers memorized, but Creighton’s is one of them.
I’m shocked when Creighton answers on the first ring, especially when he shouldn’t recognize the number. Unless he does . . . because Cannon seems to know everything about everyone.
“Greer, is that you? Because if it’s Westman, you better put my sister on the phone right the f—”
“It’s me,” I force out.
“Thank Christ. I’ve been losing my goddamned mind—and trying to keep this from Holly. She doesn’t need this kind of stress right now.”
Guilt doesn’t trickle into me like it usually does at Creighton’s comments. No, this time it’s a flash flood.
“I’m sorry. I—”
Why didn’t I come up with a plausible excuse before I dialed? Oh, that’s right. I was worried about milk cartons. Brilliant, Greer.
Instead, I do what comes naturally when all little sisters deal with overbearing big brothers. I get defensive and a little bratty.
“You can’t keep me locked up in some Podunk town with a security guard for a babysitter. That’s not cool.”
“I can do whatever the hell I want if it means keeping you safe.”
“From Cav? Because he’s the last person you need to protect me from.” Even when he was keeping his identity from me, Cav’s first priority was keeping me safe.
“He’s a manipulative liar, Greer. You’re too blind to see it. This isn’t like the time you loaned two thousand dollars to the temp doorman because his mother needed surgery, and then he disappeared. It’s not even like the time you offered up your credit card to cover your friends’ bar tab that ended up costing me ten grand.”
“Stop. That’s enough.” My voice is hard when I interrupt Creighton’s warm-up of the litany of stupid or naive things I’ve done. “I get that I don’t always make the best choices. I’ve done a lot of stupid things. But at some point, you’ve got to let me live my own life, Crey. I’m staying out of the press. I’m safe. And most importantly, I’m exactly where I want to be.”
My brother is quiet on the other end, and I can imagine his eyes narrowed and jaw clenching so hard, his teeth grind together. I’m not afraid to stand up to him, and this time, it matters more than it ever has before.
I swallow, my grip on the phone turning sweaty as I wait.
“Are you staying in California?”
I release the breath I was holding. He’s relenting. Well, at least as much as Creighton ever relents.
“For a little while, at least.”
“Say the word and I’ll have a jet waiting on the tarmac for you—day or night.”