Page 22 of Hard Ruck

“Fantastic,” Ice said, nodding a couple of times. “I’m a big advocate of women getting all of their needs met. For some women, that means multiple men. My girlfriend, Kennedy, she’s satisfied with three. Some women need four. Or five. Or six.” He frowned for a moment. “Or even seven. If that’s what Chelsea needs, I’m here for it. As long as you take care of her.”

“That’s the plan,” Storm said with a grunt.

“Seven?” Frost asked him. Then me.

“Seven is alot,” I said, eyes wide.

“It’s an odd number,” Dallas pointed out. “I don’t like odd numbers.”

“I do,” my brother said. “My favourite number is thirteen.”

“Of course it is,” I told him. To the other guys I said, “That should tell you pretty much everything you need to know about my brother.” It wasn’t even close to everything they should know, but it would do for now. They weren’t ready for anything more than that.

“I like thirteen,” Frost said. “The number thirteen, not sharing Chelsea with twelve others. If we did that, we’d need a roster.”

“And a shit ton of lube,” Storm agreed.

“And a mountain of bath salts,” I added. “I’m not going to have a relationship with thirteen men. That’s too many for a girl like me to handle.”

“Too fucking crowded,” Dallas agreed.

Atlas nodded. “I hate to agree with Frost and Storm on anything, but I’m with them on this.”

“I wasn’t aware you got a vote yet, but since you agree with us, I’ll let it slide,” Storm said.

“I appreciate it,” Atlas said sarcastically.

“Of course you do,” Frost said. “We might learn to get along some day.”

“What happens if you don’t?” Ice asked eagerly. He looked about ready to bounce up and down in his seat.

I glanced at him, silently warning him not to kill any of them.

He grinned, not offering me any promises if they fucked around.

“Then Atlas is out,” Storm said simply, darkly.

“That’s up to Chelsea,” Atlas addressed that to my brother.

“Both interesting responses,” Ice said. He adjusted his man bun, then left his hand at the back of his head. He leaned on it, tilting his head to the side. “I would have given the same response as Atlas if I was asked early into my relationship with Kennedy. Ares and Mannix would have responded the same way Storm did. They both had the possessive asshole thing nailed down pretty well, even then.”

Atlas smirked at Storm.

“Not sorry,” Storm said.

Ice grinned. “Of course not. It was just an observation.” He turned to Frost and Dallas. “What would your response be?”

They exchanged glances.

“I agree with both of them,” Frost said finally.

“Me too,” Dallas agreed.

“Fascinating.” Ice lowered his hand and rubbed his chin. “It seems like Chelsea has an interesting array of men.”

“Can you stop psychoanalysing them?” I said. “I thought Ares was the psychologist?”

“He is,” Ice agreed. “I guess he’s rubbing off on me after all these years. Sometimes literally. He can be really?—”

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