Page 8 of Falling With You

Maybe she had been sleeping, or perhaps she couldn’t deal with me.

Nobody wanted to deal with me.

I was a grumpy asshole. I was proud of that usually, but now, I didn’t know what to do.

Because Sienna was hurt. Yeah, so was I, but she had been hurt because I hadn’t been there.

And I would kill the motherfucker who did it.

My doorbell rang, and I narrowed my eyes at it, annoyed at the damn door and anyone who would be at my house.

How could I brood and growl alone in the dark if someone was at my place?

Maybe I should leave the house. You know, cook and go to my place of business and actually do something productive rather than just sitting here wondering if I was going to waste away along with my accomplishments.

I wasn’t even a damn sous chef anymore. I wasn’t working at a Michelin-starred restaurant and being the best I could possibly be.

I was working at a damn bar, though one I was proud of.

But I wasn’t really working at all right now, was I?

I wasn’t doing anything.

The key in the lock turned, and Brendon and Cameron walked in, Dillon following closely behind them.

“I gave you that key for emergencies, assholes,” I muttered under my breath, leaning back into the cushions of the couch.

Cameron flipped me off and closed the door behind him, while Dillon stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Brendon just shook his head. “Dear God, have you even showered today?”

I held up my wrist that was still in the cast. “Kind of hard to shower with this. So, why don’t you just fuck off?”

“Wow, aren’t you in a good mood?”

“I don’t know,” Cameron said, talking to Dillon and Brendon and ignoring me, “it sounds about the same type of mood that he’s usually in. Maybe with a little more grime. God, you stink.”

“I do not stink. I showered earlier. So, everyone just shut the fuck up.”At least I put on pants, I thought to myself. Pants were good.

Pants were a sign of the sane.

No, not really. I was officially losing my damn mind.

“Well, if you say you’re clean, I’m going to call you a liar,” Cameron said quickly. “But, we’re just here to check on you.”

“I don’t need a bunch of mother hens checking on me. I’m fine.”

Dillon came up and sat on the other end of the couch and just stared. “Really, Aiden?”

I looked at my youngest brother and narrowed my eyes. I didn’t know Dillon as well as I knew my other brothers, but then again, Dillon had just entered my life.

I hadn’t known he even existed, not until he’d shown up for Jack’s funeral with Cameron.

He was my half-brother, we shared a mother. When Cameron and I were younger, our mom hadn’t been the best mother, and our dad had been long out of the picture. She had lost custody of us, and the foster system had split us up.

I hadn’t even seen my own twin for a couple of years when we were kids until Jack and Rose ended up taking us in, along with Brendon. So, Brendon, Cameron, and I had ended up growing up as brothers, and eventually, were adopted into the Connolly family.

Dillon however, was a few years younger than us and ended up staying with our mom.