Aiden
“Are you done hating me yet?” I shoved past Rook, yanking open the fridge like I hadn’t thrown gasoline on an already raging fire.
“You mean hating my best friend who’s been sneaking around behind my back for months with my sister?” His tone sharpened, pushing at a wound that was already raw between us.
My jaw tightened and I tried to relax it, letting out a hard breath through my nose. “Yeah. I fucked up there. I should’ve told you sooner.” I met his glare head-on, refusing to back down. “But don’t stand there and act like Evie’s some fragile little thing you have to protect from me. She makes her own choices. You don’t get to control her life.”
His expression darkened, something flickering behind his eyes. I knew that look—I’d seen it a hundred times before, usually right before we came to blows. But this wasn’t some bar fight over stupid shit. This was about her. And that meant neither of us was backing down first.
But I couldn’t start a fistfight here with Rook and expect it to end well.
“Can you maybe dial it back a little on the hating me? Like, we can fight, but I think a fistfight in the kitchen is pushing it.”
Rook scoffed, arms crossing tight over his chest. “Have you stopped trying to get with my sister?”
“No, and I won’t be.”
“And what if you aren’t good enough for her?”
I let out a short, humorless laugh, grabbing a water bottle and twisting the cap off harder than necessary. “That’s rich coming from you. Are you good enough for Regan?”
He went to say something, but his mouth snapped shut for a moment.
“No,” he finally said.
“Exactly, and if I told you to stay away from her because you aren’t good enough, would you listen?”
“No, and I would probably hit you.”
“I’m so glad you are understanding my point of view here.”
Rook’s face was stone for a second before a smile broke on his lips. “I truly think we are about to get in a fistfight in the kitchen. Regan is going to be pissed about the blood.”
“You can’t control Evie. We both know that, and that unfortunately is going to include this, too.”
“No, but I get to care when she’s making a mistake that could fuck everything up.”
I slammed the water bottle down. “Mistake? As in, I’m a mistake. You know damn fucking well I would do anything for her.”
Rook didn’t blink. “Tell me you’re in this for the long haul then. Tell me you’re not gonna wake up one day and realize you’re not built for this. Built for... well, her. Because if you walk away, it’s not just some breakup. You will destroy her. You destroy all of this.”
The weight of his words settled between us.
I knew he wasn’t wrong. But he also wasn’t right.
I was made for her—there wasn’t a part of me that wasn’t completely built for her.
Before I could fire back, Mason strolled in, tossing his keysonto the counter. “Are you two still bitching at each other? Fuck, at least make it entertaining. Throw a punch or something.”
“Shut up, Mason,” Rook and I snapped at the same time.
“Wow. True brotherhood,” Mason muttered, a sly grin growing on his face as he grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Speaking of the woman of the hour, where’s Evie?”
The words were casual, harmless—until I looked out the window and realized they weren’t.
I turned, glancing at the clock. It was too late. She had been out way too long. She already hated riding that bike and I knew she wouldn’t want to be out in the dark cold for hours.
“She should be back by now,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. My chest ached, my first instinct to start looking for her, but knowing she was angry.
