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“You make coffee yet?” Becca asked Ava Jade.
She shook her head.
“Good,” Becca said. “That’s my job.”
She hesitated before entering the kitchen, craning her neck to see Rook in the living room. “He’s still out?”
“Yeah,” I told her. “But he’s all right.”
The crease in her forehead made it seem as though she had been legitimately worried about him and maybe she was. I’d detected no lie in anything she’d told us last night. And anyone willing to lay down their life for my Sparrow was okay in my book. But I’d also meant what I said. If she did anything to betray Ava Jade again—if she hurt my brothers—I would end her.
“And Grey?”
“Asleep,” Ava Jade replied. Jerking a thumb to her bedroom.
“Not anymore,” Grey said, wandering from the room in nothing but his boxers, stretching his arms high over his head, the veins in his biceps and waist jutting from his skin like snakes.
Speaking of…
“Come on, man,” I hissed at the same time Becca cleared her throat.
Grey’s hard-on was squashed between his stomach and the waistband of his boxers, a good two inches of its head poking out for everyone to see.
He looked down, bored. “It’s a dick. Are you offended by dicks now? You’ll be disappointed to know that you have one, too, Bro.”
Ava Jade chucked a tea towel at him. “Go put some pants on,” she said, her gaze sliding to Becca, a tick in her jaw.
She was jealous.
It was a good look on her.
“There’s fucking vomit on them,” Grey complained, covering his cock with the towel.
“Oh!” Becca exclaimed. “I bought these really nice Puma sweats for…well, it doesn’t matter who they were for. I bet they’ll fit you. One sec.”
The reminder of Becca’s mystery Ace boyfriend soured the mood in the room, and I had to wonder not for the first time whether we’d already killed the fucker.
I was willing to bet Becca was wondering that, too. Holding on to the hope that he was dead, which would mean she was in considerably less danger.
I doubted she was so lucky. I’d seen not a single Ace who truly matched the description she’d made. Though Ava Jade was right, that one King definitely did match.
My tired mind tried to work through the puzzle of it all, wondering whether or not Diesel had recorded anything of their conversations where Becca’s boyfriend actually said he was an Ace. Though even if he had, what was this guy’s word worth?
“Here,” Becca said, returning from her room to toss Grey the sweatpants, and whatever I’d just been thinking about was knocked from my skull, and I couldn’t claw it back.
Yet another symptom of insomnia. The inability to hold on to slippery thoughts. To make connections. To see things coming before they did and stop them.
My Sparrow was right. I needed to sleep. If I didn’t, I’d start missing shit that was right in front of me.
Grey pulled on the sweats, and Becca was right, they fit him like a glove. He didn’t seem to like that fact, but it was better than wearing around Rook’s vomit until we could get back to the Nest.
Right on cue, Rook stirred, a low groan falling from his lips as he rolled lazily from his back to his side, arm flopping from the side of the couch.
Ava Jade abandoned her attempt to make coffee and rushed to the living room, grabbing the glass of water from the coffee table.
“Hey,” she said, sitting uneasily on the edge of the couch, hand hovering over his shoulder like she was afraid to touch him.
Oddly, I didn’t feel jealous as Rook settled his hand on her thigh and squeezed weakly, or when she helped him up and pushed the hair back from his face to pass him the water. I felt… glad.
