Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
“It’s a more nuanced coffee. The brewing process is cleaner with a crisper extraction.”
Greyson laughed, the sound rough but genuine. “Could you be anymore pretentious?”
“I could try.” Soren sipped from his mug and sighed like a man tasting heaven. “Nothing like that brown piss you drink.”
He was finished with the small talk and his dainty coffee. Setting the glass mug in the sink with a sharp clink, he leveled with his brother. “Look, she’s gonna get back to you eventually. And you know how this is going to play out. Can we cut the crap?”
“We don’t know anything. You’re not the expert you think you are on Wren anymore.”
Maybe he was right, but Greyson didn’t want this to go any further than it had to. Every cell in his body rebelled against the thought that Soren or anyone else might touch what he now considered his.
“This is different, Soren. I’m not backing down.”
“Yeah, well, until I hear otherwise from Wren, neither am I.”
“You’ll lose.”
His younger brother laughed. “It would be so easy if you could convince me of that, Grey. But you and I both know I have a chance here. That’s why you’re panicking.”
His hands balled into fists. “You don’t have a chance. I’m trying to save you from—”
“I don’t need a fucking savior.” His scowl darkened. “What’s the endgame for you, Grey? Are you really prepared to love her? Because I actually could. I’m willing to. With everything I’ve got.”
“She’s not a means to an end.”
“Of course she’s not. But with everything going on with Dad and the will, I’d be doing all of us a favor. There’s no burden in winning a girl like Wren. She’s the cherry on top.”
His knuckles popped like gunshots. She was his fucking cherry. “She’s not your prize.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. She’ll always be a prize. We were all fools to wait this long. I’m not waiting anymore.”
His jaw locked tight, tension coiling around his neck like a vise. The air in his lungs turned heavy and thick, as his mind flashed with vivid images of their future—not his and Wren’s, but Soren’s and Wren’s—and damn it, it made sense in a way that made him sick.
“I’m calling her.” Greyson pulled out his phone, his patience finally snapping.
Soren scoffed and paced away from the counter. “Unbelievable. You just can’t leave it to chance.”
“Fuck chance.” He hit send with more force than necessary.
“This is Wren. I’m unavailable. Leave a message.”
His jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. He checked the time with growing dread. She wasn’t in her yoga class. There was no reason for her to be unavailable, no excuse that would satisfy the growing panic in his chest.
Soren chuckled, the sound cold and knowing. “Looks like you’re getting the brush-off too.”
What was she doing? They had an understanding.
“Looks like you’ve got nothing, big brother.”
Greyson’s shoulders stiffened, then he pocketed his phone with deliberate calm. Time to come clean. “I was with her an hour ago, Soren.”
They locked eyes, the air crackling between them. “You lie.”
He shook his head. “Kissing her. Touching her. Do you want me to go on?”
“Manipulating her.” Soren glared at him through dark, narrow eyes that burned with betrayal.
“More like fighting her off and trying to do the right thing.”
“You’re so full of shit.”
“Am I?” Distrust flowed in the chasm between them like poison. They’d always been loyal—brothers for life—but things started to feel less stable, the foundation cracking beneath their feet. “It’s a courtesy—me warning you to stay away from her. Next time I won’t be so calm.”
Soren crossed his arms over his chest, his stance defiant. “Any man who tries to control a woman’s friends has no real control over anything.”
“I never told her you two couldn’t be friends. But I’m telling you, if you kiss her again, I’ll break your face.”
He laughed without humor. “And what about afterwards?”
Grey frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, after it gets too real for you, Grey. Dad’s dying. I know how you get. You take off whenever things get too intense. How will that translate to a life with her? You gonna run every time things get real? Marriage? Babies? Things can get pretty heavy when you’re talking about the forever.”
His chest tightened like a vise, each breath becoming harder to draw.
“That’s you, Greyson. That’s what you’ve been protecting her from your entire life. She needs more than you’re willing to offer. You know it. I know it. And Wren fucking knows it. All you’re doing is leading her down a path that will eventually end with her tears.”
He took a step forward, then stilled, his hands fisted at his sides and ready to swing, violence humming through his veins.
Soren glanced at his clenched fingers and scoffed, unafraid. “You can’t hit me, because you know I’m right.”
He could have laid him out with one swing, could have felt the satisfying crack of bone against bone. He should have. But Rat was in his pocket, and Wren would hear about it, would be disappointed in him again, and that would cut deeper than any blade. How many times had he already made her cry?