Chapter 12 #3
“Speaking of culture,” Colt cut in abruptly, his voice sharp enough to slice sashimi, “dinner’s ready. Unless everyone prefers cooing over baby Lan?”
Wei caught the edge in Colt’s tone and smirked, watching his brothers dance around each other like awkward wrestlers. This trip was going to be interesting.
The migration to the dining table resembled a stampede of hungry wolves who’d discovered table manners—barely.
For the next few hours, they ate, drank, and traded stories that grew more outrageous with each passing glass of wine.
The younger ones eventually drifted back to their video games like moths to a particularly explosive flame, with Bree joining in while Lan watched from what he considered a safe distance.
Jaxson found himself constantly aware of Lan’s location throughout the evening, his gaze tracking the boy’s movements with an intensity that would have been embarrassing if he’d been sober enough to care.
His body seemed attuned to Lan’s presence in a way that defied explanation—he could sense exactly where Lan was in the room without looking, could feel when he moved closer or farther away.
He wasn’t the only one. Colt’s eyes followed Lan like a hawk watching its prey, while Xander found excuses to brush against him, to touch his shoulder, to lean in close when speaking.
The possessive beast in Jaxson’s chest growled with each contact, each look. Mine, it insisted with increasing urgency. Mine to protect. Mine to possess.
When Henry and Sofia finally left around eleven, the cleanup crew assembled like a well-oiled machine—if that machine was powered by brotherly bickering and questionable jokes. Jaxson was loading the dishwasher when he heard Bree’s voice from the doorway.
“I’m exhausted,” she announced, appearing in the kitchen doorway like a sneaky matchmaker plotting her next move. “Mind if I crash here tonight, Jaxson?”
Lan frowned, pausing in his task of wrapping leftovers. “Where would you even sleep? My room’s basically a glorified shoebox.”
“Oh, that’s easy.” Bree’s smile could’ve given the Cheshire cat competition. “I’ll take your room, and you can sleep in Jaxson’s.”
The temperature plummeted faster than Nico’s gaming scores during a power outage.
Colt’s grip on the dish he was drying turned lethal, the muscles in his forearms standing out like cords.
Xander’s trademark easy smile crystallized into something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a glacier.
The air crackled with tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
“Actually,” Xander cut in with forced lightness, setting down his towel with deliberate care, “Lan could take my room. I don’t mind the couch.”
“Your bed’s practically a twin,” Colt interjected, voice sharp enough to slice through steel. “He’d be more comfortable in my room. Memory foam mattress.”
“The one that misses you because you’re always face down on your desk?” Xander’s tone was honey-sweet, his eyes anything but.
Wei leaned against the counter, watching this passive-aggressive tennis match like it was premium entertainment, his dark eyes dancing with unholy glee. “My, my, so many generous offers. Who knew we had such charitable brothers?”
“Lan can use my room!” Nico chirped from the doorway, blissfully unaware he was walking into a minefield. “Just watch out for the controller cables—they’re like my room’s version of trip wire.”
“And risk him breaking his neck navigating your gaming obstacle course?” Colt’s protective instincts flared like a mama bear spotting a threat. “Absolutely not.”
Lan glanced between his brothers, looking bewildered.
Jaxson, who’d been quietly observing this territorial display with growing irritation, finally spoke, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
“Lan can share my room. The bed’s big enough.
” His casual tone didn’t match the way his eyes locked with first Colt’s, then Xander’s, like a silent showdown. The challenge was clear: Mine.
Colt’s jaw clenched so hard it could’ve cracked walnuts. “That’s hardly—”
“It’s fine,” Lan interrupted, face pink but determined. “Better than making anyone sleep on the couch.”
Xander’s smile looked like it might shatter. “But—”
“Perfect!” Bree beamed, shooting Wei a triumphant look before practically skipping away, humming what suspiciously sounded like a wedding march.
“That girl.” Wei shook his head, though his expression was more amused than disapproving. “She has more schemes than Nico has gaming consoles—and that’s saying something.”
“And you’re always onto her little plots,” Colt bit out, his knuckles white around the poor dish towel he was mangling. “Better watch out, Wei. Keep calling her out, and she might stop visiting. Then who’ll entertain you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wei’s eyebrows shot up, though his attention was more on how Colt’s entire body had gone rigid with tension.
Xander’s smile could’ve cut glass. “Yeah, Lan would be devastated if his best friend stopped coming around. But you’d be absolutely crushed, wouldn’t you, Wei?”
Before Wei could fire back a suitably scathing response, Chris’ voice drifted in from the living room like a well-timed distraction. “Hey, can we crash here tonight? The buses are done and Ubers are surging.”
“Yeah!” Nico perked up like someone had announced a gaming marathon. “Slumber party!”
Colt’s expression suggested he’d rather drink straight lemon juice. “One of us can drive you home.”
“But we want to stay.” Chris unleashed his weaponized puppy eyes. “Please?”
“They’ve been drinking,” Xander pointed out, perhaps sensing an opportunity to diffuse the tension crackling through the kitchen. “Let them stay, Colt. What’s a few more people?” His eyes flickered briefly to where Jaxson stood hovering near Lan like a particularly protective shadow.
Colt released a sigh that could’ve powered a wind turbine. “Fine. But keep it down. Some of us actually sleep at night.”
“Unlike you and your three a.m. marketing presentations?” Xander’s teasing had an edge sharper than their good kitchen knives. “Pretty sure your laptop’s got a permanent imprint of your face by now.”
“Or Jaxson’s midnight spreadsheet adventures?” Nico chimed in, still completely missing the undercurrents of tension.
“Says the guy who raids the fridge at two a.m. like a ninja in designer sweats,” Lan muttered.
“Hey!” Nico clutched his chest in mock offense. “Gaming burns calories!”
“Only if you’re actually moving,” Colt rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched slightly. Some of the earlier tension leaked from his shoulders, though his gaze kept tracking Lan’s movements like a hawk watching its prey.
Chris whooped in victory, already planning their late-night gaming session. But Jaxson noticed how Colt’s eyes kept drifting toward the hallway, no doubt thinking about Lan sleeping in his room tonight. Xander wasn’t any better; his usual easy smile had vanished faster than Nico’s gaming snacks.
Well, Jaxson thought, watching his brothers’ barely concealed reactions, this should be an interesting night.
As the kitchen emptied, leaving him alone with his thoughts, Jaxson found himself both dreading and anticipating the hours ahead. Lan. In his room. In his bed. After what had happened between them last night…
The possessive beast in his chest purred with satisfaction. Tonight, Lan would be his. His.