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The sense of uncertainty was making me physically ill. “Barrett, nothing happened last night, right?”

He scowled at me. “Like you even have to ask. He’s my brother, Rayne.”

“I know! I know. And I’d never cheat on him, but… How do we explain this?” I waved a hand at the rumpled bed and destroyed hotel room. Hale could not find us like this.

It didn’t matter that Barrett was his brother. Remington was his father, and he’d slept with Hale’s last girlfriend right under his nose. It was no wonder Hale had trust issues.

Barrett waved away my concern. “You need to have more faith in him. Hale’s a big boy—” He froze. “Meyers…don’t move.”

I stilled. “What’s wrong?”

Speaking slowly and quietly, he splayed his fingers and held up his hands in a calming gesture that only terrified me. “There’s a huge fucking spider on your neck.”

I screamed and went into a full-scale, spastic attack to remove any trespassing creatures from my body. My hands scoured my throat, swiping the small, furry fucker away.

It clung to my finger, so I rapidly ran in place, flinging my hands hysterically while squealing nonsense words. “Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!”

It landed on the bed and I shuddered, caterwauling as if I’d just been molested by a ghost.

“Oh.” Barrett leaned forward and lifted the spider. “It’s just a fake eyelash.”

Depleted, I collapsed into the chair and caught my breath. “How is this my life?”

“Oh, please.” He shoved his arms into a T-shirt that was several sizes too small. “At least you don’t have permanent scarring. You’re a few aspirins and a sports drink away from returning to your normal self. I, on the other hand, have been branded for fucking life.”

I groaned, pressing my face into my palms. My skull had a literal heartbeat that throbbed like the impending theme of Jaws.

Barrett blew out a breath and leaned into the wall. “My bones feel like they’re trying to escape.”

I peeked through my fingers. “What the hell are you wearing?”

He pressed his chin to his chest and frowned. The shirt, clearly a girl’s medium, had a flamboyant baby unicorn dancing in a tutu across a rainbow. Overhead, it read, I’m Fucking Fabulous!

“What the fucking fuck?”

“Can I please have that when you find your real clothes?”

He jerked the sheets off the bed and searched the room. “Where the hell’s my shirt?”

“I dunno. Wanna wear this one?” His was way better.

He glanced at my muggle shirt and growled. Then he dropped to the edge of the bed. “My head is killing me.”

“Mine too.” I massaged my temples.

His fingers forked through his hair and stilled. “No.” His hand cupped the back of his head, traveling up and down, pulling his messy hair. “No.” He growled, “What the fuck did you do?”

My head shook. His hair appeared several inches shorter than it had been last night. “I didn’t?—”

“Where’s my fucking hair, Rayne?” He sprang to his feet and started ransacking the suite.

“Maybe this is a new look for you—” I shut my mouth the moment he came storming toward me, his detached hair now in his fist and his eyes burning with flames of fury.

“You. Cut. My. Fucking. Hair.”

I held up my hands in a gesture of peace. “Memories are a little sketchy, but I’m pretty sure you were on board with it.”

“I’m going to fucking murder you!”

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