Page 105 of The Love Destroyers

There’s a cleared throat, and we turn toward the door to see a man in a beige suit holding a very official looking briefcase and a retractable banner with a stand.

“This room was reserved,” he says.

“Oof, we have to go,” Nicole tells me, ignoring his existence. “Text me after you sleep it off.” And she walks off without collecting the other uncomfortable mats. Fine by me. This guy could use meditation if anyone could.

Too bad I don’t think there’s any sleeping off what’s wrong with me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

SEAMUS

Chuck isn’t at the house, but he left a Post-it on the kitchen table, along with another cinnamon roll.

At a lawyer’s office for a consult. Wish me luck!

Goddamn, give him a taste of sugar, and he buys out the bakery. He also managed to find someone who’d see him on a Saturday, which is a feat.

Of course, I’m not one to talk. Give me a taste of sugar, and I’m addicted. Nicole made a good call when she sent me home. I’m not in my right head, and it has nothing to do with getting clocked with that paperweight on Monday.

I let myself get addicted to Emma, no different than I was with cigarettes. But I haven’t had a cigarette since the night I climbed the wall at Smith House, and that was only my second or third of the year. I can shake my Emma addiction too if I need to.

I shake my head as I crumple the note and help myself to the cinnamon roll.

On the car ride back, I did more research on domesticated rabbits. It’s probably a stupid thing to focus on given the shit storm I’m in, but it feels important to help Carrot. Ellie might remember him at some point, but he’s obviously an afterthought. A prop. I’m surprised by how not okay I am with that.

Most of a rabbit’s aggression comes from fear, which makes sense. If you’re a furry creature who weighs less than ten pounds, you’ve got a lot to be afraid of—and this little guy woke up in an apartment he’d never been in. The first people he saw were a six-foot-two man and a lady he’d never met. Of course he flipped out.

Rabbits also need way more space than his wire travel cage. Animals who are trapped are scared.

When I get upstairs, I head toward the bunny’s cage. I get down to his level, nearly falling from the way it jars my rib, and offer him my fingers to sniff, moving slowly so I don’t alarm him.

The vicious little shit goes at me with his teeth bared to bite.

I’m laughing as a knock lands on the door.

My mind goes straight to Emma.

But when I head over to the door and peer through the peephole, I see my brother, looking like he’d like to bust me open like a pinata.

Worse, Rosie is with him, messing with the dyed purple stripe in her hair. That means she’s nervous about whatever took them to my door today.

Well, shit. We held an intervention for Emma in this apartment a couple of weeks ago, and now it looks like it’s my turn.

There’s no avoiding them, though, so I open the door. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You’ve been avoiding us,” Rosie chides. “And you didn’t tell us you were in the hospital again. We had to find out from Chuck.” Her gaze darts to my T-shirt, her eyes widening.

Damn it. She’ll understand the significance. So will my brother. They exchange a glance, then Rosie adds, “I told Declan about your streaming debut. I had to. You weren’t answering your messages.”

I hadn’t seen her messages. They must have been beneath Ellie’s stream-of-consciousness texts.

My brother doesn’t say anything. He just busts into the place like a bull and then stops when he sees the rabbit cage. Poor Carrot looks like he’s going to keel over from a coronary, because my brother’s a giant.

“You got a rabbit?” Declan asks in disbelief, peering through the bars at him.

“No, that’s Ellie Reed’s rabbit,” Rosie croons, stepping lightly over to the cage to peer down at him. “What a cutie.”

I shut the door behind them. “Yes, by all means, make yourselves at home.”

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