Page 33 of Pretty Threats

“No.” We use the media room for streaming and gaming. If she stayed there, the other guys would have an excuse to go in. “You’ll take my bed, and I’ll sleep in the living room.”

I can see she wants to argue, but she resists with a bite of her lip. “Fine.” Her tongue snakes out to soothe over the teeth marks.

I’m about to put her tongue to better use when she yawns, reminding me of what little sleep she’s had and why.

“When we get back, take a nap.” I wince, realizing I didn’t soften my tone. Fortunately, Raine is either too used to my ways or too tired to care.

“I am exhausted.”

An hour later, I’m finishing homework in the living room area that’s closest to the kitchen when Jamie comes downstairs. My gaze slides in the direction of the hall leading to the bedroom where Raine is sleeping.

He sits across from me with a smile that makes my eyes narrow. “So, listen, mate. War filled me in on Operation Stockholm Syndrome. I’m on board. I’ll help you.”

I scowl. “Who says I need your help?”

“Anyone who’s ever met you,” Jamie quips with a cock of his brow.

“Stop talking, so I can lay something out for you.”

He leans back, folding his arms across his chest. “Sure, as long as you stop talking to me like I’m the fucking enemy. Ever since she got here, you’ve regressed to the way you acted the first day of training. Which is bollocks. The three of us have sweated, bled, and killed together. Considering your fucking mistake caused this mess and we’re just trying to help you clean it up, you could try being less of a twat.”

I’ve never seen him look angry. It’s interesting.

“Noted,” I say.

He stares at me for a beat, and the anger dissolves from his expression, leaving him looking like himself again. “Right. So, tell me what you wanted to say.” His tone is still humorless at the moment, so not totally back to normal.

I close my laptop. “When we came ashore this morning, you were holding her by the arm. Don’t do that again. Ever.”

“Are you serious?” He spits the words out like venom. “I wasn’t trying to feel her up. Grabbing her was mission-critical. And I’ll do it again if I have to. When you’re not around to take her in hand, War or I will have to do it.”

“No.” I give him a look so hard, diamonds would be jealous. “I don’t like the touching, period.”

“You mean anything? Platonic included?” When I’m silent, he adds incredulously, “You don’t even like it when her mum or dad gives her a hug?”

“There’s no mom. But yeah, that’s what I mean. I want everyone to keep their fucking hands off.”

“Mate, you’re mental. What is there to get jealous about when it’s her dad or best friend giving a hug?”

“I don’t like it.”

He looks at me like I’m crazy, which… Not an inaccurate way of characterizing my behavior, according to the experts.

“All right. Look, I’ll do my best.” His tone is resigned. “But I may slip, strictly unintentionally. I must’ve touched you dozens of times during training. They stuck us in that hole where we were wedged together. Surprised you didn’t have a meltdown.”

“If it’s me, I don’t care. But when it’s her… no. No one gets close to her but me.”

“Got it. Remind me if I forget.”

“Oh, I will.”

He laughs. “Settled. Now, listen, the first thing to do in this situation is to start asking her questions to find out what things matter to her. Stuff she likes and doesn’t like?—”

“I already know that.”

He raises an eyebrow, as though he thinks I’m lying.

Snapping my fingers impatiently, I nod. “Try me.”

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