Page 14 of Too Hostile

“You won’t be leaving us,” Blair says with that confident smile. “I know how to book a flight, and if you think I won’t be stalking your life just as much as I stalk these two,”—she gestures toward Rhett and me, and we both smile before she continues, her eyes on Bree—“you’re crazy, kiddo.”

Bree sniffs, and Rhys walks up next to Blair, placing his hand on her shoulder. “We love you, Bree. If you want to go—and we all know you do—you should. We aren’t going anywhere. We’ll be here when you’re ready to come back.” He gives a half smile, which is massive for Rhys. “If you come back.”

Blair nods easily. “Or I’ll just have to pack up the whole family and move us all up there.”

“Oh, God,” I groan. “Bree you better come back someday because I’m not moving to New York.”

She smiles brightly at me then, and I laugh because we all know if that’s what we must do, we’ll do it.

Blair hugs Bree close to her. “I love all of you, but you’re totally insane if you think you’re getting away from me.”

Bree sniffs and lets Blair hold her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d make me go.”

Blair pulls back enough to look Bree in the eyes. “Do you want to go?”

Bree bites her bottom lip for a moment, taking a brief pause before she nods her head slowly. “It’s my dream.”

Blair kisses her on the forehead and smiles as she does it. “Then it’s our dream too. We’re gonna make it happen.” She hugs Bree again, and then we all wind up in a weird sort of group hug. With the non-touchers—Rhys and Rhett—awkwardly on the outside, it works for us.

Afterward, Rhys makes grilled cheese for all of us, and Blair makes hot chocolate before we sit around the kitchen table, talking about everything under the sun.

We keep it down, so we don’t wake Grayson, Max, and Ian, but still, it’s a damn good time.

Reminiscent of the many times we did this over the years. And there really were many. Anytime anyone couldn’t sleep, we’d wind up right here. Talking everything out.

I have no idea how the hell I got so damn lucky, but regardless of what anyone thinks, I’ll never take this for granted.

RONAN

It’s finally summer. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, but there’s something about summer in a college town. There are still enough people to keep the town running, but it’s much, much less.

And while I still teach a couple of classes in the summer, I have a little bit more free time. So today, I decided to meet Annie for coffee at one of my favorite shops near campus. She’s in a hurry this morning, so we only have a little time to chat while we wait for our orders. Thanks to most of the students going back home for the summer, there’s hardly any wait. Still, it’s always good to catch up with her, especially since it’s been over a week since finals, and I haven’t seen Nathan or her much.

But I quickly realize I was just too damn happy this morning as a familiar figure saunters inside the small coffee shop. His hair looks like he just rolled out of bed—but somehow is still neat and looks clean and fresh. He’s wearing one of those tank tops that cost far too much and clings way too close to his chiseled body. It’s already warm this morning, so I suppose he’s appropriately dressed.

“Well, good morning, Professor Briggs.” He smiles big at Annie before turning his blue gaze on me. “Professor Barlowe.”

See, why does he have to emphasize professor only when he’s talking to me? Always trying to rile me up.

Annie just laughs at his antics. “Good morning, Fletcher. How’s the summer going?”

I hate that she’s engaging him. That they have a whole rapport because they already set up his TA gig, and when the fall semester starts, he’ll be working with her. “It’s going pretty well. Just lounging around.”

I roll my eyes, and Annie nudges me. “Well, I’m sorry, but I have to get going.” She holds up both her hands, full with two coffees and a bag of muffins. “Don’t want to keep the wife waiting.”

“No time to chitchat today?” I tease, and she just winks at me.

“Hell no. Wifey gets hangry.” She waves to me and then to Fletcher. “I’ll see you around, Fletcher. Give ’em hell.”

I frown, and Fletcher only grins widely, giving her a wave. “Will do.”

She leaves, and I start toward the door far away from Fletcher. “Aw, come on, Professor. No time to chitchat? It’s summer, and I’m pretty sure you don’t have a wife.” His eyes go to my left hand. “At least, you don’t wear a ring.”

“I’m not married.” Damn it. Why did I need to say that? I don’t owe him any personal details. “And I was just here to meet my friend. We...”—I motion between our bodies—“are not friends.”

“We could be.”

“No. We can’t.” I start to move past him again, but his big body blocks my exit. “Have a good day, Mr. Moore,” I try to dismiss him.