And, yet, it is afternoon, not morning, and I never did the smart thing and said,Unmarry us right now, you moron.
I’m literally the stupidest person I have ever met in my whole entire life.
I’m too stunned byeverythingto think straight.
I can barely wrap my brain around how Kyran exists in this space of fierce casual. Heloveswith such an undying passion it’s shocking how normal he makes it. It’s veryyeah, I love you, what of it?As thoughlovingsomeone is just like breathing. And then you pair that with how he sees fit to display that love, and it’s like.
Oh.
Oh.
Okay.
Wow.
How stupid does someone have to be to get accidentally married while perfectly sober? That’s all I want to know right at the moment.
“We heard that a little sister needed help moving in?” Kaleb’s gentle tenor greets me, shattering the pit of self-loathing I’m plummeting into.
Jerking my attention toward him, I find he’s got a box labeledMorana’s Pretty Pony Collectionand gasp.
Kaleb. The perpetual voice of reason. The solidnormalfoundation amid all the crazy that is the famous Bachelor brothers. The one who peaced out of his parents’ trauma upbringing and home-grew his traumaelsewherelike a sane person.
He lifts my tokidoki box and looks right at me. “Where should I put this?”
I march up to him, steal the box, set it lovingly on the floor, then grab his arm anddraghim up the hall.
Past Zakery and Kyran.
I feel my…husband’s eyes track me, but I do not slow for a second. Not until we are far, far away from my room, outside in the cold, and tucked away in the winter wonderland of his handiwork. Frosted flowers and branches hang around us as I learn, quite immediately, that I forgot to grab my coat in my flee.
Chuckling kindly, Kaleb shrugs his own off his broad shoulders and covers me in it. “What’s up, Mora?”
Buried in the thick brown leather warmth of his coat, I manage a calming breath, then I whisper, “You can’t tell anyone.”
His head tilts. “I’m good with secrets. It was an occupational requirement.”
Right. Yes. Prior escort, this one. Then he fell in love with Crimson, Crisis’s bestie, and now he lives happily ever after with that queen, awaiting their formal double wedding in April. Because Crisis and Viktor, and Crimson and Kaleb?Theyhavebrain cells, andtheyhave been planning aproper wedding togetherfor over half a year now.
White air leaves my mouth. “I married your brother last night.”
Kaleb coughs to hide a laugh, then murmurs, “Viktor is going to hate that when he finds out.”
Yeah, Viktor has a complex about the fact he fell in love first and began planning a wedding with Crisis like a proper adult man, but now all his other brothers are getting shotgun weddings before him. Viktor is a lunatic if he thinks he shouldn’t beproudof his sanity.
“Kaleb,” I hiss, “you don’t understand. I was chilling. Kyran broke into my house with a key he got from Crisis. And then hemicrowaved marshmallows for us, conned me into trying on a stupid fluttery dress Mae made for me, and invited a magistrate and two witnesses into my living room while I was changing.”
Kaleb’s expression neither loses its humor nor gains an ounce of concern. It remains stable, awaiting, like I’ve yet to say why I need his reasonable grounding skills.
Bewildered, I stare at him.
At long last, he says, “So…you saidI do?”
Heat erupts in my cheeks. “I mean…” I clear my throat, bundle up in my big brother’s coat. “Well. Yeah?”
“Under duress?”
I snap my fingers, nod. “There was definitely duress.”
