Page 63 of The Anaconda Downstairs

“Okay,” I said, straightening up and looking between Kelsey and Neith. “Let's get organized. We've got a lot to do.”

Odin thought he could tear us down, but he had no idea what he was up against. We had love, family, and an army of body-positive warriors on our side.

And as Jules so eloquently put it, we would ride at dawn.

CONFESSIONS OF A LOVE-AHOLIC

EVERETT

Itook a deep breath, my hand hovering over the doorknob. On the other side stood my comeuppance, and even through the wood I could practically feel his signature scowl and the pummeling I was going to get for sneaking around with Pen.

For a moment, I considered pretending I wasn't home, but I knew better. Declan was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something, and right now, that something was my ass and probably some answers.

I mentally inventoried my freezer for bags of frozen peas or steaks for the eventual black eye I'd be nursing. That would look great or game footage on Sunday. Steeling myself, I opened the door.

“Took you long enough,” Declan growled, shouldering past me, barely even noticing my state of undress. His eyes scanned the room, and I knew he was looking for signs of Penelope. “Where've you been?”

“Sorry,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual. “I was getting ready for a shower.”

Declan's eyebrow rose skeptically. “For three hours?”

I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance but probably hitting somewhere closer to guilty as hell. “Lost track of time. You know how it is.”

“Uh-huh.” Declan's tone made it clear he wasn't buying it. He turned to face me, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration that I'd seen a thousand times growing up. It was the look that usually preceded a lecture about responsibility or teamwork or some other big brother wisdom.

But instead of launching into a speech, Declan pulled out his phone. “Want to explain this?”

He held up the screen to show me that same picture he'd sent. There, in high-definition glory, was that photo of me and Penelope at the speed dating event. We were leaning in close, laughing at something. But that wasn't the problem. It was the way I was looking at her.

Like I was on fire... for her.

“Where did you get that?” I asked, my mouth suddenly dry.

“Does it matter?” Declan countered. “What matters is what it means. Are you fucking Penelope?”

I almost snapped back that what we were doing was so far beyond fucking, that it meant so much more to me than that. But I hesitated, caught between the urge to deny everything, admit everything, and the bone-deep weariness of keeping secrets from the most important people in my life.

Declan glared at me, but not in a you're-dead-meat way. It was like he was trying to see into my brain.

“Look, Ev,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. “I just want to know what's going on. Penelope's... she's important to Kelsey and to me. She's become family, to all of us.”

The unspoken 'and we don't want to see her hurt' hung in the air between us. Indignation flared deep in my gut, and I was ready to spew flames. Did my own brother really think I'd hurt Penelope?

Those flames were quickly doused by a wave of shame. Wasn't that exactly what I was doing by keeping our relationship a secret?

I sank onto the couch and dropped my head into my hands. “It's complicated.”

Declan snorted, dropping into the armchair across from me. “Your love life always is.”

I looked up sharply, stung by the implication. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Ev,” Declan said, leaning forward. “You've got a different girl on your arm at every event. You're always talking about the perfect woman, the perfect relationship, but you never stick with anyone long enough to see if they are right for you. And now you're sneaking around with Penelope? What's really going on here?”

“When did you become the one to shill out love life advice? I thought that was my job.” Yeah, that was deflecting at its finest. But I met Declan's gaze, and I saw something beyond the gruff exterior. Concern. Genuine concern, not just for Penelope, but for me.

And suddenly, I was tired. Tired of pretending, tired of hiding, tired of being the Everett everyone thought they knew.

“You're right,” I said quietly. “It is complicated. But not in the way you think.”

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