Chapter 18 #2
That honey-sweet scent surged around me, growing stronger with my embarrassment. I noticed how it affected my three older stepbrothers—Jaxson’s nostrils flaring, Colt’s jaw clenching, Xander’s eyes darkening. They could smell it too, I was sure of it now.
“I can change—” I started to retreat, but Xander’s hand on my shoulder stopped me with all the subtle force of a velvet-covered steel trap.
His palm was warm through the thin fabric, his fingers curling slightly around my shoulder in a way that felt more possessive than casual.
The moment he touched me, that strange warmth flared between us—not as intense as with Jaxson, but undeniable.
“No time,” he said, his eyes dancing with amusement that should be classified as a lethal weapon. “We’re already running late.”
“Late for what?” I squeaked, hyperaware of his touch, of how close he was standing. “The Milan Fashion Week? Because you all look like you’re auditioning for Next Top Stepbrother. Complete with smoldering looks and—oh God, did you coordinate your outfits?”
“Lan,” Colt cut in, his voice tight enough to tune a guitar. “Let’s go.”
Getting five ridiculously attractive stepbrothers—plus one equally attractive but demonic half brother—out the door should have been a simple task, like herding cats. Through a maze. While they’re all high on catnip and dressed for a photoshoot. In the dark. During an earthquake.
I made it halfway to Jaxson’s car before Colt’s hand shot out, blocking my path to the front passenger door with the kind of dramatic timing usually reserved for soap operas.
His palm was warm, almost hot against my sternum, and I could feel my heartbeat quicken under his touch.
That same strange warmth I’d felt with Jaxson flared at the contact, different somehow—sharper, more electric.
“Back seat,” he declared in that tone that brooked no argument, the same one he used when someone failed to use a coaster on the coffee table. “Nico gets carsick in the back when he plays.”
“But I—”
“He’s right.” Xander’s voice came from directly behind me, warm breath tickling my ear in a way that should be illegal.
When had he gotten so close? Did they teach ninja skills at his bar?
“Besides, we have things to discuss about your wardrobe needs.” His hands landed on my shoulders, steering me toward the back door with the kind of smooth efficiency that would make professional choreographers jealous and possibly sue for copyright infringement.
“I can walk by myself,” I protested, but somehow ended up sliding across the leather seats anyway, the cool material a stark contrast to my overheated skin.
Xander followed right after like this was all perfectly choreographed.
Colt claimed the other side faster than Wei claims the last protein shake—and I’ve seen him parkour across the kitchen for those—effectively sandwiching me between them.
“My, my.” Wei leaned against his own car, looking far too amused for someone who regularly talks to his biceps. “Quite the escort service you’ve arranged, Spirit Magnet. Try not to break them before lunch—I’m meeting you all at the mall food court later.”
“Don’t you have proteins to count?” I muttered, trying not to focus on how Xander’s thigh was pressed against mine, solid and warm, or how Colt’s arm had somehow ended up along the back of the seat behind my head like the world’s most distracting armrest. Both of them smelled unfairly good, like they’d coordinated their cologne choices specifically to short-circuit my brain.
What was this, a conspiracy of designer fragrances?
“Not today.” Wei’s smirk grew impossibly wider. “Got a hot date with my gym membership. But don’t worry, I’ll catch up later to witness whatever chaos you’ve managed to create by then. It’s rare to see all three guardians so… focused.”
Guardians? What was he talking about now? Between “Shrine Maiden,” “Celestial Peach,” “Little Fox,” and now “Guardians,” it was like Wei was speaking in some kind of code only he understood.
“I call shotgun!” Nico announced cheerfully, already bouncing toward the front passenger seat, completely oblivious to the death glare Colt was sending his way. He slid in, immediately pulling out his phone. “I need to finish this level. The boss keeps killing me.”
Jaxson slid into the driver’s seat, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. The intensity in his gaze made my lips tingle with phantom sensations, remembering how thoroughly they’d been claimed just hours ago. That amber-gold color seemed to glow brighter, like embers catching fire.
“Everyone comfortable?” he asked. His voice carried a hint of strain as he watched the backseat situation through the mirror.
The muscle in his jaw twitched, a tell I’d learned to recognize over the years.
He was irritated, though whether at the situation or at his brothers’ hands on me, I couldn’t tell.
“Peachy,” I squeaked, suddenly very aware of how my borrowed shirt had ridden up slightly, exposing more thigh than I was comfortable with. Xander’s hand stayed on my knee while Colt’s arm behind my head somehow dropped even lower until it was definitely touching my shoulders.
“Seat belt,” Colt reminded me, his voice oddly rough.
Before I could reach for it, his hands were already there, pulling the strap across my chest. The back of his fingers brushed against the worn letters on my shirt, grazing my chest in a way that couldn’t possibly be accidental.
I swear I heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like “torture.”
That strange warmth flared again at his touch, sending tingles racing across my skin.
“I can do my own seat belt,” I protested weakly, my voice betraying me by coming out breathier than intended.
“Clearly,” Colt murmured, his deep voice entirely too close to my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “Just like you can dress yourself so… appropriately for shopping.”
I tugged at the hem of my—Jaxson’s—shirt again, heat crawling up my neck and settling in my cheeks. “It was the only clean thing—”
“We know,” three voices chorused, with varying degrees of strain.
“Oh cool, is that Jaxson’s old workout shirt?” Nico piped up from the front, still focused on his game. “The one where some of the middle letters wore off? I always thought it was funny how it now says—”
“Nico,” three voices cut him off simultaneously, with enough force to make him actually look up from his game.
“What? I’m just saying it’s like one of those inappropriate t-shirts you see at—ARGH! This boss is impossible!”
In the rearview mirror, Jaxson’s eyes darkened as they lingered on where Colt’s hands were still hovering near my chest. The look in them made my stomach flip, memories of last night flashing through my mind with vivid clarity. “Everyone ready?”
Ready for what? I wanted to ask. A heart attack? Because being trapped between two unfairly attractive stepbrothers while the one I actually want to be next to keeps giving me those looks through the mirror is definitely not good for my cardiac health.
This was going to be a long ride.
The engine purred to life, a low rumble that I felt more than heard, and Jaxson pulled out of our parking spot with his usual smooth precision. Or at least, it would have been smooth if he hadn’t been constantly glancing in the rearview mirror instead of watching where he was going.
“Left, left, LEFT!” Nico suddenly shouted, making everyone jump. “Oh, sorry, talking to my character. This dungeon is really tricky to navigate.”
The first turn had me sliding against Colt, his arm tightening around my shoulders like a very expensive, cologne-scented seat belt.
The solid warmth of his chest against my side was both comforting and terrifying.
That electric warmth flared where our bodies touched, different from what I felt with Jaxson but equally powerful.
The second turn sent me into Xander’s side, his hand somehow ending up higher on my thigh in the process, his fingers warm through the thin fabric of my shorts. Another kind of warmth flowed from his touch—smoother, more subtle, but just as intense.
“You know,” Nico commented without looking up, “if you’re having trouble with the car’s handling, I know a great mechanic from this game I play. Though I guess real cars don’t have power-ups or—NO, NO, NO! I was so close!”
If being sandwiched between two unreasonably attractive stepbrothers wasn’t bad enough, being sandwiched between them in a moving vehicle was pure torture.
Every turn sent me sliding against one or both of them, and their “helpful” hands seemed to find new and interesting places to “stabilize” me.
Xander’s fingers kept creeping higher on my thigh, while Colt’s hand had somehow slipped to my waist, his thumb tracing small circles against my ribs.
“Sorry,” I mumbled as a red light had me practically falling into Xander’s lap, my face inches from his neck. I could smell his cologne from here, something woodsy and expensive that made my head spin.
“Don’t apologize.” Xander’s voice held a hint of something that made my stomach flip, something dark and hungry that reminded me too much of how Jaxson had looked at me last night. “I don’t mind catching you.”
“You wouldn’t need catching if you’d let me put the seat belt on properly,” I grumbled, trying to readjust without accidentally elbowing anyone in their unfairly toned abs. The movement only served to press me more firmly against Colt, whose arm tightened around me in response.
“The seat belt is fine.” Colt’s arm tightened slightly on me. “You’re just… small.”
“I’m not”—the car took a turn, and I slid against Colt’s side, my cheek pressed against his shoulder—“small.”
“Speaking of small,” Nico chimed in, “did you guys know that in this game, there’s a potion that can shrink your character? It’s super useful for—oh wait, wrong button!”