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I grimace. “I’m coming, for fuck’s sake.”
Slinging the door open, my other bright-eyed brother and Sienna carry a tray of coffee and a box of donuts.
What the fuck is this, some sort of intervention?
“Morning!” Sienna chirps. “Coffee?”
I groan to myself, leaving them at the door, heading back into my apartment.
“Ever heard of calling before you show up at someone’s house at seven a.m. on a Sunday?”
“I didn’t think we had to call. We’re family.”
I sense the grin through Sienna’s words even if I can’t see her.
“What are you guys doing in the city this early anyway?” I rub my hand across my face, sitting in the same spot I just woke up from.
“Uh…Sienna was helping me with something.”
Quirking an eyebrow, I give a questioning squint to Ivan, but don’t have the energy to press further. Sienna’s great friends with all of us, but I’m not taking her for coffee and donuts at seven in the morning.
“That’s a different subject for a different day.” He gives an awkward smile, pulling a coffee from the holder and passing it to me.
“Long night?”
“Did Royce call you?”
“I can’t reveal what the big brothers communicate about behind your back.”
“That’s low,” I groan, making my way to the counter to grab a coffee they just brought.
“Jett, what are you doing?”
It’s Sienna who speaks next, and I wish I wouldn’t have looked up to reach her gaze, because now I feel sick. Staying true to the story I’m trying to get myself to believe, I shrug and look down at my coffee cup.
“What do you mean?”
“What she means to say is, what are you doing here? Why did you take yourself off of the trip?”
Because I had to.
“Just needed a little break,” I lie.
“Jett…” Sienna’s voice is lace with concern and filled with questions I’m not prepared to answer.
Rising from the couch, I stride over to the kitchen island, mindlessly searching the fridge for something I’m not even hungry for.
“Did you guys need something?”
When I turn around, both of them are just watching as I dive headfirst back into my old life.
With short strides, Sienna walks toward me. Just as she reaches the edge of the counter, she whispers, “Don’t do this.”
I swallow roughly, my gaze dropping.
“You love her.” She doesn’t ask because both of us know she doesn’t need to.
I hold on to the counter to stop myself from getting dizzy at her words.
