Page 22 of Shared By Her Brother's Best Friends

“Shit, do you think she heard us?” Jax asks, looking guilty as hell.

“It doesn’t matter either way. It doesn’t change things,” I reply though I feel a knot in my chest at the thought of Emma hearing the callous way we were talking about her. “She’s probably relieved that we’re not going to be salivating over her and pushing for it to happen again. She probably regrets it. A nice woman like her isn’t going to be interested in guys like us. She had her fun, wild experience, but that’s all we were to her. Don’t kid yourselves otherwise. It’s better this way,” I insist, though the words sound hollow even to my ears.

***

It’s quiet downstairs when I wake up the next morning. Usually, Emma and Max are up early and in the kitchen at this time, fixing breakfast. But this morning the kitchen feels empty and cold in their absence. The smell of homemade pancakes and sizzling bacon are missing as are the usual sounds of chatter and laughter over the bright kids’ cartoons playing on the TV. It’s funny how quickly I’d grown accustomed to our morning routine, to seeing them there.

Without thinking, I head upstairs to check on them, it’s not normal for them to be in bed still at this hour, and they went to sleep early last night. But as I reach Max’s door, I can hearthe sounds of him giggling inside, Emma’s melodic voice talking back in hushed tones.

She heard us last night. That much is clear. She’s obviously waiting for Jax and me to leave before coming out. Or perhaps she intends to hole up in Max’s room all day.

I feel like the world’s biggest asshole. But if that’s what I have to be to keep them safe and prevent this messy situation from becoming any more complicated, then so be it.

Fighting the urge to knock on the door and go inside to apologize, I spin on my heel and head toward Jax’s room. I rap on the door in two short, sharp bursts of my knuckles. I can hear Jax moving around inside and a second later he answers the door, his hair still wet and a towel slung around his waist.

“Hurry up. We leave in five,” I bark at him, already turning and starting to head back downstairs.

“What about breakfast?” he asks, confused by my urgency.

“We’ll grab something on the way,” I call out over my shoulder before making a beeline for the front door.

I need to get out of this house, away from Emma and the guilt I feel. I need to focus on the task at hand. On making sure she and Max are safe so that everything can go back to normal. Although I suspect that nothing will be the same again.

***

As we pull up to Bess’ house, I’m unsurprised to find her laying on the floor of her garage under an impressively largeHarley with a wrench in hand and heavy metal music blaring out of the speakers.

“Bess!” I yell out, trying to be heard over the noise. After calling out to her a few times with no response I nod to Jax to go turn off the music. With the blaring metal coming to an abrupt stop, we finally have Bess’ attention.

“What the fuck?” she grumbles as she appears from under the bike.

When her eyes land on me her scowl turns into a smile. “Well, fuck me sideways if it isn’t Mace! What are you doing here?” she says coming over to hug me.

“It’s good to see you Bess,” I say, pulling back to take a look at her. “You look well.”

She’s in her usual outfit of a white tank stained with black grease, a pair of overalls slung low on her hips, and a bandanna wrapped around her forehead, the bright red flames of her hair pulled back into a messy plait. Her skin is tan and thick with grime from working for hours in the sun.

“And you look like shit,” she quips, flicking me with the rag she has in her hand. “I take it this isn’t a social call?” she astutely observes.

“Fraid not,” I reply with a shake of my head and a shrug.

“Well, why don’t you two come on up to the house for a drink and we can talk?” she says, not waiting for a response as she starts to stride confidently toward the house.

Chapter 12

Emma

After overhearing the guys’ conversation I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I felt like a stupid teenager with a crush hearing that the boy she likes doesn’t like her back. With my pride wounded, I slunk into bed with Max, vowing that I would avoid them at all costs the next day.

Max woke me up at the crack of dawn, I’m feeling decidedly unrested, having tossed and turned all night. Reluctantly, I groggily got out of bed after it became clear my excitable six-year-old doesn’t do lie-ins.

Max wasn’t thrilled about having his Saturday morning breakfast routine changed to silently eating cereal as quickly as possible before the guys woke up, but when I told him that after his bath, we were going to play a special game he perked up. The ‘game’ was mostly hiding in his room, making a fort from blankets, and playing whatever I could think of to keep an active six-year-old boy entertained in just one room. But he soon tired of it and started wanting to go outside.

“Mom, I’m bored can we go watch cartoons?” Max asks me for the tenth time that morning.

Finally, my resolve breaks. By the sounds of it, Jax and Mason left about half an hour ago and I haven’t heard them come back, so that’s something. With any luck, Ty will be as reluctant to see me as I am to see him.

“Alright, fine. But only for a little while,” I concede.

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