TWENTY-EIGHT ROWAN

TWENTY-EIGHT

Rowan

IT’S THURSDAY. Thanksgiving. Our house is full of people. I don’t know why my parents made the switch and decided to host the annual family dinner here instead of at Whit and Summer’s house, but it is absolute chaos, and I’m dying to hide away in my room. Preferably with Arabella.

She’s having way too much fun though so I could never ask her to do that. I watch as she sits with a few of my cousins in the family room, gabbing away with Iris, who is probably the only one who could outtalk her. They are going on and on about something, I can’t even hear what, and they’re both gesturing wildly, their arms in the air, their laughter filling the room, which makes me smile. The twins Paris and Pru watch them with envy in their eyes, probably wishing they could be as outspoken and wild as Iris and Arabella, though they’re both already on the verge of being exactly like Iris from what I’ve observed over the years.

That’s mildly terrifying.

“I miss your sister.”

Turning at the sound of the familiar voice, I see Brooks Crosby standing there, clutching a drink in his hand with a grimace on his face. He’s a big guy, taller and broader than me, and he can appear imposing to most. Once you get to know him though, you find out he’s a giant teddy bear. He also happens to be Iris’s boyfriend.

“You have a secret thing for Willow?” I ask him, raising my brows.

He scoffs, taking a giant gulp from his glass, his movements jittery. He seems extra nervous and I wonder what the hell his problem is. “More like I need Willow around for moral support. But she’s too busy getting sunburned in Mexico.”

Willow and Rhett FaceTimed us earlier, their red faces appearing on the screen made Mom give them a lecture about using sunscreen. The call didn’t last long—who wants to be lectured on Thanksgiving? But I don’t think my mom could help herself. She’s always concerned about her children, especially when one of us is not around.

“More like you miss Rhett.” They’re best friends. Callahan and I have hung out a lot with Rhett and Brooks, and I get what he’s saying—I miss the Bennett brothers too. It doesn’t feel right, not having them here for the holiday.

“Right. Like you miss Callahan.” Brooks takes another swig, then wipes at his sweaty brow. “It’s fucking hot in here.”

There are a lot of bodies in the house and the heater is blasting but it’s not that hot. “You okay there, buddy?”

“Not really.” Brooks rattles the ice in his glass before he drains it. “I’m stressed the hell out.”

“Dealing with Iris on a daily basis is finally getting to you, huh?” I chuckle.

“Yeah, especially since she’s moody and pregnant.” Brooks immediately covers his mouth when I swing my head in his direction, the shock I’m feeling at his casual remark all over my face. “Ah, fuck. I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.”

My jaw drops and I blink at him. What the actual … “Are you for real right now?”

He nods, clenching the glass tight in his meaty hand. “Her dad is going to murder me on the spot when he finds out.”

“Iris is pregnant? Seriously? You guys are what … twenty?” I can’t wrap my head around being a dad in two years. Hell no.

“Yeah, she’s having my baby. And while I’m scared shitless, she’s excited about it. Look at her.” We both turn to watch Iris and Bells, who are now listening to whatever the twins are telling them, my gaze lingering on Iris for once instead of getting distracted by Arabella. “She’s fucking glowing, man. I’ve never seen her look so beautiful.”

She does look good. Her face is rounder, and she’s got this big smile on it, like she’s keeping a giant secret, which she is.

“It makes me wanna cry, knowing she’s going to have my kid,” he continues, his voice scratchy.

Brooks sounds like a man in love, and I give him a quick onceover, noting the googly-eyed expression on his face. Yeah, he looks like a man in love too. I’d be freaking the fuck out over bringing a baby into the world but all he’s worried about is Whit Lancaster turning his wrath upon him when he finds out good ol’ Brooksie impregnated his only daughter.

Which is a valid concern. I would never fuck with that guy. He’s mean as shit and his son is the same. Grumpy assholes run far and deep in the Lancaster lineage.

I take a step closer to Brooks and lower my voice. “You haven’t told her parents yet? Not even her mom?”

“No.” Brooks shakes his head. “Haven’t told mine either. And they’re here. They’re all here. Iris said tonight at dinner she’s going to announce it to everyone, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

Dinner tonight just got a lot more interesting, that’s for damn sure.

“What are you cocksuckers whispering about?”

We both turn to find August there, his icy blue eyes raking over both of us, his upper lip curling in disgust. He’s the oldest of the cousins, and when I was younger, I wanted to be him so fucking bad. I just wanted Augie to include me in everything he was doing, and he always treated me like shit. It’s only been the past year or so that he actually acknowledges me in a semi-friendly manner instead of threatening to kick my ass, which is how he used to treat me.

Brooks sends me a look that says please keep your lips zipped before he turns to August, reaching to slap him on the back. August dodges away from him at the last second, sneering.

“Do not touch me. You’re a fucking sweaty mess, Brooks. Are you drunk?”

Brooks drops his hand, defeated. “No, but I wish I was.”

“Don’t get another drink,” I warn Brooks who was about to leave. “You should probably try and stay sober, don’t you think?”

“Hell no.” And with that, Brooks makes his escape.

August watches him go, then turns his attention to me. “What’s his problem?”

No way am I telling August the news. He gets to find out with the rest of the family. “I have no idea. You know how he is.”

“Always worried he’s going to piss my father off? And me too?” August arches a brow.

“Exactly.” I nod.

“How’s the ankle?” August asks.

“Better. No boot.” We both briefly glance down at my feet. “What’s up with you?”

“I’m fucking sick of school. Bored out of my mind.” He rolls his eyes. He’s at one of the most elite private colleges in the country and is president of the fraternity there this year. You’d think he’d be on top of the world. “Pissed that I’ll have to stay an extra semester and graduate next year.”

“On the five-year plan?” I’m giving him shit and he doesn’t like that.

“Wait until you get into college and find out how they rig the system and offer a class only during the fall semester. Meaning you can only take it once a year. Then you can talk to me about a five-year plan.” August brushes his golden hair away from his brow, his irritation bubbling over as usual.

“I don’t even know if I want to go to college,” I admit. “I applied everywhere I might want to go, but we’ll see.”

I’ve never admitted that out loud. I’ve always been the dutiful son, doing as my parents say. The only time I rebelled was when I joined the football team my freshman year. My mom was worried I’d injure myself and I promised I wouldn’t. Then I go and do exactly that, proving her worry was warranted.

“What else are you going to do? Fuck around and travel the world while spending all of Daddy’s money?”

“I came into the first part of my trust fund when I turned eighteen,” I remind him. “Meaning it’s my money.”

“Right. Wait until you’re twenty-one. Talk about having fuck you money.” August actually grins.

“Fuck you money?” I’ve never heard that term before.

“Yeah. That’s when you have so much wealth you can do whatever you want without consequences. Want to buy an NFL team? Fuck you, I can afford it. Want to buy a castle in Europe? Fuck you, I’ve got it covered.” August tilts his head in my direction. “See where I’m going with this?”

“Definitely.” I chuckle. So does August.

Damn, why does that feel like progress?

“Hey, guys! Whatcha talking about?”

I glance over my shoulder to find Arabella approaching us, a curious look on her face when she studies August, and I grab her hand, pulling her in so she’s standing between us. He doesn’t even acknowledge her. Just stands there with a bored expression on his face.

“Arabella Hartley Thomas, this is my cousin, August Lancaster,” I say.

“Ah, I’ve heard of you,” is how August greets her, tipping his head in her direction as acknowledgement. This is a moment for sure because it’s rare August acknowledges anyone. “You came here with Rowan?”

She nods, her big gold hoop earrings swinging wildly. “His parents were kind enough to invite me to stay for the week. My parents live in Hong Kong and I couldn’t see them during the holiday.”

“Your dad is the big shot finance guy, right?”

“Yes, he is …” She glances over at me and I just stand there, paralyzed. I forgot I asked August to do a little investigating into Arabella’s background. Shit. “And your father is the scariest Lancaster of them all, right?”

August full-blown laughs at Arabella’s comment while she stands there like a serene princess. “I like her, Row. She’s feisty.”

He doesn’t even know the half of it. I pull her in closer, staking my territory like the possessive ass I’ve become, and August notices because he notices everything, the fucker.

“Don’t worry, cousin. I don’t want to fuck your girl. I’ll leave that all to you.” Smirking, August offers a short bow to Arabella. “A pleasure meeting you. If you’ll excuse me, I need a drink.”

He leaves before we can say anything in response.

“He’s a little … scary,” Arabella says to me once my cousin is gone, shifting around so she’s facing me, my hand falling away from her. She looks amazing, even though she’s wearing the simplest of outfits: a soft black sweater and black wide-legged pants, that ever-present heart-shaped gold locket around her neck. Her hair is down and perfectly straight, those big gold hoops dangling from her ears, and her makeup is subtle, save for her mouth. Her lips are a deep, vivid red that gives her a sexy as fuck air, and she’s wearing black frame glasses.

“He’s a menace,” I mutter, wishing I could kiss her but I’m not in the mood to make a spectacle in front of the entire family. I’ll save it all up for later tonight.

We’ve been driving each other crazy the entire week—getting naked everywhere we can because it’s like we can’t keep our hands off each other. I’ve been trying to hold out, but it’s proving more difficult as each day passes.

Here’s my deal—I refuse to have actual sex with her until it’s her birthday because, and I am a fucking sap for thinking this but I can’t help it, I want the experience to be special. Memorable. For me and for her. But her patience is thin and so is mine. We’ve come close so many times, to the point that she begged for it last night. I refused and went down on her instead. I’ve never eaten pussy until Arabella, and she’s so responsive, she makes me feel like a damn king every time I make her come.

The girl is excellent for my ego.

“Much like you’re a menace?” When I scowl at her, she slaps at my chest. “Stop it. You enjoy being mean to everyone.”

“Not as much as August does.” I grab hold of her hand and intertwine our fingers, leaning in close to whisper in her ear, “Let’s go find a closet and fuck around.”

“Rowan,” she scolds, which only makes me want her more. The scolding part. It’s hot when she acts like I’m the bad one when she might be worse. “We’re with your family.”

“No one is paying attention.”

She purses her lips together, trying to keep a straight face. “Someone might overhear us.”

“Like I just said, no one cares. Trust me.” I drop my voice a notch, whispering in her ear, “I bet I could have you coming on my face in less than five minutes.”

Bells gets that look on her face, the one that tells me she’s turned on. “Rowan.”

“Arabella,” I return, as serious as I can be.

She glances around, making sure nobody is close. “Make it four minutes and you’ve got a deal.”

I grin. “Challenge accepted.”

“I’ll leave first.” She steps away from me, her eyes shining with arousal. “Meet me in the first guest bathroom in the east wing.”

“Give me two minutes.” I slap her ass, making her gasp. “Go.”

She scurries away and I watch her leave, smiling the entire time until I catch my brother shaking his head at me.

“Everyone knows you two are fucking,” Beau whisper-yells.

His words don’t even bother me. For the first time in my life, I welcome them. “I don’t really fucking care,” I tell him.

Just before I take off in search of Bells.