Page 162 of Midnight Curfew

“I know,” Iron replies.

They follow me, and I hold my hand out. “Stay back.”

Rising up just enough, I peek through the railings, stretching as far as I can to the right, to catch a view of the kitchen. Callum sits on a bar stool at the island, dressed in black pants and a white button-down that’s not buttoned. Hair a mess, barefoot, and smiling…My stomach sinks at how gorgeous he is when he’s…happy.

He’s driving me crazy.

His new boyfriend puts something in the fridge and passes him a bottle. “Open the wine?”

Callum considers it but puts the wine down, uncorking a bottle of tequila instead and pouring two shots.

They exchange soft, lingering smiles, their fucking gazes loaded with something that’s pissing me off. As they tip back the shots, their gazes meet and hold. I swallow. I should’ve brought a weapon.

“You hungry?” the guy asks.

“After,” Callum replies.

I narrow my eyes. After…

The heat of my siblings’ eyes on my back starts to burn, but I want him to come down to the bedrooms. I want to see him try.

The older man circles the island, Callum spinning around on his stool to meet him. Callum hangs his elbows on the island behind him, the other guy planting his hands on the counter next to Callum’s arms.

Leaning down to Callum’s mouth, the older man smiles. “Goddamn.”

He takes Callum’s face in one hand, his thumb running over his mouth.

“You are very pretty,” he coos. “And I wanted my hands all over you the second I looked at you.”

Needles prick my throat. I’ll bet Callum likes hearing that. Words stoke his ego, don’t they?

The guy drops his mouth to Callum’s neck, the latter letting his head fall back to give him access.

My mouth is fucking dry. I shouldn’t have drunk so much alcohol.

“I need a shower,” Callum breathes out. “You want a shower?”

I grip the silver railing, watching the man’s hand lower to Callum’s groin, rubbing his cock.

The guy growls, moving his mouth to Callum’s shoulders and pushing off his shirt. “Fuck, yes.”

Fuck no. Whipping my head around, I jerk my chin at Iron. He switches the breakers, cutting the lights, and we all launch up the stairs and storm into the kitchen.

I only see Callum and his date pull away from each other, alert, but I grab a bottle of wine from the rack as I pass and throw it at the dark-haired guy like a baseball. His hands fly up, and he catches it, stumbling back and crashing to the ground. In a second, Macon is on him, Iron wrapping his arms around the guy’s neck from behind and holding an Envo mask soaked with chloroform over his mouth and nose.

Macon pins him, facing away, the guy’s body slowly going lax and his eyes closing.

Liv lies on the ground, her arms and legs locked around Callum from behind, his neck immobilized as he stares up at me.

Amusement dances in his eyes, even as the veins in his neck bulge.

The room quiets except for Liv’s whisper in Callum’s ear. “Fuckin’ Jaegers,” she taunts.

Walking over to his date, I dig in his back pocket for his money clip. Pulling out his cards, I find his license.

Micah Hearst. Oooh, sounds fancy.

I dart my eyes to Callum, who watches me. I’m not going to take his money, but I do note his gold card and his black card. Callum doesn’t need a guy with money, either. He’d rather have good dick.