Page 61 of Five Brothers

Army splashes my back.

I suck in a breath.

Trace pinches my nose.

I rage. “What the fuck, y’all?”

I whip around.

And find myself in Iron’s arms, his painted hands gripping my waist.

That’s five. That’s more than the rest of my clothes.

Five hits. Everything else I’m wearing. More than everything, actually, as I only have three items left. Skirt, vest, and underwear.

The music plays, and Iron bites the corner of his mouth. I stare up at his lips.

“You want all these people to see me naked?” I ask him.

“You want just me to see you?”

Maybe.

If I like him, then I’ll want more, right? What will he be like when he gets out in three years?

Where will I even be?

I don’t want to wait for another man, thinking it will magically get better. I did that with Milo.

And I don’t want to just have fun. I did that with Trace.

I start to pull away. “You should find someone else tonight.”

“Nah, we’re way past that,” he growls, yanking me back.

“I can’t sleep with you.”

His eyes soften, and he almost whispers, “Then just stay with me.”

A knife cuts my heart.

But I also know better. If he gets me in his bed, he knows what will happen.

“What do you think you’re going to get if you get my clothes off?” I ask.

“A pretty picture in my head to take with me.”

“You have plenty of those.”

A bell pierces the air, and I look over to see Trace ringing the brass dinner bell on Mariette’s patio. Someone dumps a bucket of shrimp and mollusks on the newspaper-lined table as people crowd around, grabbing beers out of an ice-filled bin.

Iron takes my face. “I want to get in the car with you and drive to a different fucking view tonight. I want to drive fast enough that the sun never comes up.”

My throat is so tight. “I … I can’t.”

“Smile at me,” he says.

I shake my head, and I don’t smile.