Page 174 of Burn Bright
“You knew Audrey would tell us,” Charlie states plainly to Ben, redirecting this conversation.
“Eventually, I figured she might. It’s not a big secret I work here. I just didn’t wantthatto constantly be around.” His gaze drifts beyond his brothers, but none of them turn to look to understand what “that” means.
People have whipped out their phones to snap pics and record videos of them. I notice their bodyguards making rounds around the bar. Ben said some of his brothers will have strangers sign NDAs and delete footage if they’re being filmed outside of a public space.
I’m unsure of which brother has requested this tonight.
“Any of you want a drink?” I ask them since I’d prefer if they stayed until closing. Yes, evenTom.
“Glenfiddich, neat,” Charlie says. It’s easily one of the most expensive bottles we stock, and I stiffen when I see it’s on the highest shelf.Not again.
My joints need oiled. I can’t fucking move for an unbearable second.
Skin pleats between Charlie’s brows as his gaze bores through me. Before I reanimate, Ben grabs the bottle, then slides a comforting hand down my back, knowing why I just had a minor internal freakout.
I breathe in.
Charlie asks Ben something in French. What calms me more is realizing I’m not Charlie’s punchline.He just wanted a drink, Harriet.
While I pour whiskey in a tumbler, their French conversation picks up intensity. Eliot is joining in with a fiery emphasis on some words. Tom has a distraught yet irritated expression—on his phone. He’s texting, not listening to whatever his brothers are passionately discussing.
As Eliot’s blue eyes flit from me to the beefy dickhead from earlier, I know for certain Ben is relaying the minor shitshow before they arrived. Seeing Eliot, and even Charlie to a degree, appear incensed on my behalf feels strangely good.
I didn’t think I needed more people to look out for me. I’ve been okay on my own, but to witness it happening is spurring a sudden onslaught of emotion. I can’t tamp it down fast enough.
“Eliot,Eliot,” Ben whisper-hisses as his broad-shouldered brother has a murderous glare on Beefy Dude and purposefully tries to catch this dickhead’s attention. Ben speaks in forceful,blazingFrench, recapturing Eliot’s gaze. Then he rests his hands on my head, then my shoulders, as if mentioning me in the equation.
I lean back into his chest on impulse.
Ben is stroking my hair, calming me even if his words sound aggressive as fuck.
“Anyone want to clue me in?” I ask.
“Learn French,” Charlie bites back.
I do not have the fucking time right now to pick up another language. “It’s about me, dude,” I say.
“Astute.”
I glower, then tell Eliot, “It’s fine. They’re fine. We have it handled.”
Eliot is on his feet, unable to even sit. “He’s still breathing, so it’s not handled to my homicidal standards.” He motions to Charlie’s drink that I slide over. “I’ll have what he’s having.”
I pour another whiskey. Loving Ben’s hands on me. Loving him behind me, really. Literally and figuratively.Don’t get used to this.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I sigh to myself.
Eliot exhales the fire, then centers his focus on Ben. “We’ve hardly seen you at the apartment since Charlie and Beckett’sbirthday. You’re really taking leave no trace behind to heart, brother.”
I feel Ben tense behind me. I pass Eliot his drink, his grin flickering out before he takes a sip.
“I told you,” Ben says, “once the frat gives me a room, I’m out of the apartment.”
“Your days are numbered, we’ve heard,” Charlie says with irritation.
Ben glares. “Don’t act like you won’t love it when I’m out of there.”
“I love very little, so I can promise you I won’t bother loving that.” He picks up his whiskey. “Beckett wants you to stay with us, truthfully. Almostdesperately. In case you didn’t realize the last fifty times he’s told you.”
