“I’ll tell her,” she whispers playfully. “She’s going to be so excited.”

Not nearly as excited as I am.

Reagan

Pete’s kind of quiet on the way home. He fiddles with the radio and pets Maggie. Sometimes his hand reaches for mine, and he squeezes it to reassure me.

“Are you sure your family is going to be all right with me staying with you guys tonight?” I ask.

He nods. “I’m sure. Sam’s at school and Logan lives with Emily at her apartment, although I don’t know why. They’re at our apartment a lot more than hers, according to Matt. Sam and I share a room, and since he’s not there, you can sleep in my bed, and I’ll sleep in his.”

Well, damn. I was kind of hoping we could sleep together.

“Or we could sleep in Logan’s room, since there’s a double in there. I just didn’t want to presume that you’d want to sleep with me.” He pays a lot of attention to Maggie’s ears instead of looking at me when he says it.

“I like option two,” I say quietly. I pretend to mess with the windshield washer, even though it doesn’t need washing.

“Oh yeah?” he says quietly. He grins. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He winces a little. “I do have to warn you that our apartment is nothing like your house. It’s not in that great an area of town. And it’s kind of small.”

“None of that matters to me, Pete,” I say. I’m telling the truth. I just want to be with him. He could live in a cardboard box, and he’d still make it amazing. I jerk my thumb toward Maggie. “Maggie can be a bit of a snob, though. So you might have to give her lots of dog treats to keep her happy.”

“Maggie’s a pushover,” he says. She got sick in the car, and we had to stop long enough to clean it up. Pete was pretty good about it, though. “I think she loves me.”

He’s easy to love. He grins at me.

“So, do you sleep na**d?” he asks. His eyes twinkle.

Heat creeps up my face. “No!” I cry. “Of course not.”

He leans his head against the seat, tilting his head like an inquisitive puppy. “So, do you think I could talk you into it?” He laughs at what must be a hilarious look on my face.

“Maybe,” I say quietly.

He sucks in a breath. He’s surprised. “I’m not sure if I can keep my hands off you all night,” he warns, his voice quiet but strong. His voice is deeper and rougher than it was a minute ago.

“Who said I want you to?”

He lays his head back and groans. He flattens a hand on his chest and breathes harder. “Is my virtue in jeopardy, Miss Caster?” he asks.

“If you had any to be in jeopardy, I would say yes,” I grumble. But he’s so funny I can’t keep the grin from my face.

“We’re here,” he says. He points me toward a parking spot on the side of the street. I pull into it and take a deep breath. I don’t know what to do with myself now that we’re here.

“You’re sure you want me to stay?” I ask.

He nods. “You better text your dad and tell him you’ve arrived in the city.” He snaps a leash on Maggie and helps her from the car. “You do that and I’ll walk Maggie really quick. Then I’ll get your bags.”

I nod and start to text my dad. Pete makes kissy noises at Maggie until she follows him.

Me: We’re here!

Dad: Are you back at your apartment? Everything all right?

I don’t want to lie.

Me: No, I’m at Pete’s. I’m going to hang out with his family for a little while.

Dad: It’s 11:30 at night, Reagan.

Me: Dad, it’s fine.

Dad: Do I have to drive up there and kill that boy?

Me: Not today.

Dad: Let me know when I need to.

I laugh.

Me: Okay.

Dad: Text me tomorrow to tell me you’re alive.

Me: Love you!

Dad: Love you too.

Pete opens my door and leans on his elbows in the doorway. “Hi,” he says. “You ready to go upstairs?”

I grin. I can’t help it. I move to get out, but Pete blocks me. “You know I don’t have any expectations about tonight, right?” he asks.

“I know.” I do know. He would never make me do anything I don’t want to do. “Can I still stay?”

He pulls me from the car and goes to the trunk to get my bag. But it’s a big bag. I was going home, after all.

“Just this one,” I say, picking up my cosmetic bag. “I can get the rest when I go home tomorrow. No need to lug it up the elevator.”

He chuckles. “You are spoiled, aren’t you?” he asks.

“What do you mean?” I don’t understand.

He puts my bag on his shoulder, along with his backpack, and takes my hand. “We’re on the fourth floor. And no elevator.”

“Oh. I’m tough. I can take it.”

He tugs my fingertips toward his building. “You sure you’ll be all right with all my brothers?” he asks. He looks more uncomfortable than I’ve ever seen him.

“Stop worrying,” I say. “I’m not made of glass, Pete.”

This place is nothing like where I’m from, and I jump when someone walks by us. He pulls me into his side. “I got you,” he says quietly. But he’s sure, and I feel completely safe with him. There’s graffiti on the wall of his apartment building, and I stop to look at it. “Come on,” he says. “I want you to meet my family.”

We go up four flights of stairs and step into a long hallway. Pete turns the knob and motions for me to precede him into the room. I do, with Maggie following, and immediately hear the TV. There are men stacked up like cord wood all over the place. Someone hits the “pause” button on the TV, and everyone turns to face us.

“Hi,” Pete says. He sets my bag down beside his, and we walk together into the room. The men get up, and the biggest one walks toward us. “I didn’t think you were coming back until later,” he says. He eyes me up and down but not in a creepy way. “Who’s your friend?” he asks. He sticks out a hand to shake, and I take it. “I’m Paul,” he says. He’s huge, and he has even more tattoos than Pete does.

There’s another guy behind him. He’s thin and has long, blond hair, and it’s held back with a rubber band at the nape of his neck. “Matt,” he says as he sticks out his hand to shake.

Then I notice a guy and a girl sitting on the couch. She’s the blonde I saw at the prison, and she eyes me with the gaze of an antiques dealer, as if she’s looking for all my imperfections. “Emily,” she says with a little wave. “Logan,” she says, as she pats Logan on the chest. He extends his hand, and I take it.

But there’s one more, and my breath catches in my throat when he steps out from behind Logan. He looks so much like Pete. He has to be Sam. I look from Pete to Sam and back. “I’m the pretty one,” Sam says. He reaches out like he wants to hug me, but I recoil. I can’t help it. I’ve come a long way, but not that far. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says with a nod. I extend my hand, and instead of shaking it, he lifts it to his lips. His short little moustache tickles the back of my hand. I twist my fingers out of his grip, and Pete glares at him.

“Keep your f**king hands off my girl,” he growls. But then he opens his arms, and Sam falls into them. They hug the way men do, with lots of backslapping and murmured words. “I’m glad you’re here,” Pete says.

“You called. I came. Like a good big brother.”

“Eight minutes,” Pete growls playfully. He drops an arm around my shoulders. “He was born eight minutes before me and he thinks he’s the shit because he’s older.”

He coughs into his fist. “Excuse me. I am the shit.” He grins. He looks so much like Pete that it’s almost disturbing.

“I think you’re both shits,” Paul says as he goes to fridge and gets a beer.

“You want something to drink?” Pete asks me quietly.

I shake my head.

He cups my face with his hand. “You look a little tired. You want to go to bed?”

I nod. “We probably should.”

He grins. I think he likes the we part.

“Do you think it would be okay if I take a shower first?” I ask. I’ve been in the car for hours, and I feel kind of grimy. I’d kind of like to be clean when I snuggle na**d with Pete for the first time.

He nods and leads me toward the bathroom, where he flips the light on. He takes out towels and lays them on the counter for me. “You need some help taking your clothes off?” he asks. He waggles his eyebrows at me playfully.

“Yeah,” I say, and I close the door behind us.

Pete

Shit. She said yes.

She shoves the door closed behind me, and I freeze. I want to reach for her, but my family is about ten feet away from us on the other side of the door. “Do you need some shampoo or something?” I ask again. I reach behind her and shift the shower curtain. There’s still girly-smelling stuff in there from when Emily lived with us.

“I like your family,” she says, and then her arms wrap around my waist. She lays her head on my chest and nuzzles me with her nose, and my heart melts like it does every time she touches me.

“I’m glad.” I hold her close. I was a little worried they would scare her. It’s a lot of testosterone in one room. Luckily, Emily was here, too.

Finally, she pulls back from me. “Okay,” she breathes. “You can go.” She shoos me toward the door with a wave of her hands.

I kiss her, lingering a little too long on her lips, but she doesn’t pull away from me. I groan, pull back from her, and adjust my junk. I slip out the door and close it behind me, and then I hear the thumb lock click behind me. I lean my head against the door and breathe for a minute. But then I turn around and see Sam standing there. “Is that who I think it is?” he asks quietly. He has his shoulder hitched against the wall and his feet crossed.

“Who do you think it is?” I ask as I walk to the linen closet and take out clean sheets to put on the double bed in Logan’s old room.

“That’s the girl from that night,” he says quietly. He obviously doesn’t want anyone else to hear him. I asked my brothers to keep an eye on her. Of course he knows who she is. Paul or Matt would have told him.

I nod. He follows me into the bedroom and helps me strip the bed, and we start to put the clean sheets on.

“How did you end up with her?” he asks.

“She came looking for me when I got out,” I say. I can’t explain it any better than that. She’s the reason I was at the camp, after all. It’s true.

“You like her?” he asks as he tucks in a corner of the sheet.

I nod. “A lot,” I admit.

“Uh oh,” he breathes. His brow arches. “You’re in love with her.”

I nod, and a grin steals across my face. “A lot,” I say again.

Maggie walks into the room and lies down at my feet. “Cute dog,” he says.

“She’s a trained killer,” I say.

He laughs. “Tell me another one.”

“Try to get close to Reagan and see what happens,” I warn. I’m not kidding. That dog almost made me piss my pants that one night.

“I’d rather not,” he says. “So, you doing okay?” he asks.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. He looks up, shocked.

“For what?” His brow furrows.

“For ignoring you. For not answering your letters. For being mad at you when I told you to run.”

His mouth falls open, like he doesn’t know what to say next. “I should have stayed.”

“I didn’t want you to stay.” I heave in a deep breath. “I was jealous,” I admit. It hurts like f**king hell, but it’s the truth. “You went off to college and started living the dream. And I wasn’t there.” We’d never, ever been separated before that.

He sits down on the edge of the bed. “We were pretty stupid to work with Bone when we knew it was wrong.”

I nod. “Fucking idiots.”

“We should have known better,” he says.

“Yep.” I sit down beside him.

“Do you want to kiss and make up now?” he says, grinning.

I reach over and hug him, knocking him to the bed in the process, and he wraps his arms around me. His grappling quickly becomes wrestling, and he pins me for a minute on the sheets. But we’re pretty evenly matched. I wiggle out of his hold and flip him over, and it’s my turn to be on top. He makes a noise because he knows I have him, and then he flips me over his head. I live for this shit, but then I hear Maggie. Sam freezes on top of me and looks down.

Shit. Maggie has her teeth bared at him, and she’s gnashing them. “You might want to let me up,” I warn.

“Is she going to bite me?” he asks.

“Fuck, I don’t know.” He lifts his hands and moves to the other side of the room. Maggie hops onto the bed, gets between me and him, and growls. “Mags,” I say, just like Reagan would. Maggie turns and slides her head under my hand. A laugh bursts from my throat. “Now that shit’s funny,” I say.

Sam doesn’t agree, if his scowl is any indication. “You cheated with a f**king dog,” he says. But a grin breaks across his face.

I scratch Maggie behind the ears. She loves me. Already. “He’s all right, girl,” I tell her. She nuzzles my hand, her eyes going back and forth between Sam and me. “She can tell us apart. Ain’t that some shit?” I ask.