an arm over my shoulder.
“No point taking the subway alone, huh?” Richie nudged me. “C’mon, I’ll drive.”
I rolled my eyes again, but silently accepted the offer. According to reports from Ry and Hunter, Ian was still in jail and so were both of his friends who assaulted me. None of them could get to me, and I didn’t feel at risk at all. But it was still a little nice to have protective brothers keeping an eye out for me like this. It was something I’d wanted my whole life, and even though I was well and truly an adult now, I relished the brotherhood we’d created.
Plus, Richie’s car was nice.
I pushed Owen out of the way to get into the front seat and he happily clambered in the back, but then flicked the side of my neck while we drove into the city. I snapped, grabbed his finger and twisted it until he cried out and I let him go.
“Hey, I need that!” He flicked me once more, and then slumped back in his seat.
Richie tsked. “Settle down, children. Daddy’s a distractible driver.”
He was actually the best driver of all of us and I felt safer in his car than nearly anywhere else on earth. As spicy as his personality could be off the road, he took sharp turns smoothly, always gave way, and never ever raised his voice. And from driving the fire trucks at work, he knew the best way through the city at any time of day.
“You been good, Brax?” He glanced at me, a little concern on his face.
I turned the heat up and nodded. “Great. Just working on paintings for the art show. Mostly they’re…good.”
“Can’t wait see!” Owen rubbed his hands together excitedly. “You gonna do a portrait of me someday?”
I scoffed. “I’m, um, not great at portraits, Owen.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The paintings I’d done of Ry were just silly personal things, not meant for anyone else to see, so I could be as creative and free with them as I liked. “When I really try to paint someone well, it always comes out wonky. Noses too big. One eye bigger than the other.”
“Eh, so it’ll be true to life. I look kind of wonky.” Owen shrugged.
I rolled my eyes and Richie blew a raspberry. Owen was handsome as hell—muscled, chiseled, and freckled, with just a few small scars on his face to add character and hint at a little of his past. Wonky was not the descriptor for Owen.
“How’s work?” I glanced at Richie.
“Ah, it’s been all right.” His lips twitched as he took a turn. “Cam’s been out for a few days sick, but he’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Cameron’s a cool guy…” Owen sounded like he wanted to say more, his tone cut on the edge of teasing but not quite.
I suddenly wondered if Owen had a crush on him. Maybe they had a thing like Ry and I did—a long simmering crush they couldn’t do anything with because Owen was brothers with Cam’s coworker.
Richie nodded. “He is. A cool. Guy.”
Richie glanced in the rearview mirror to look at Owen, but the redhead paramedic was already looking away and gazing out of the window like he hadn’t said a thing.
Huh. Interesting.
We pulled into the medical center in the depths of the city, a tall glass building with a filthy underground parking lot, a graffitied elevator we took up to the fifteenth floor, and ugly prints of amateur photography along the hall we passed on our way to Dr. Howard’s office. I’d been seeing Howie on and off for years, but it had been a few months since our last check-in. I was sure I’d been on track but after everything with Ian… Well, I could admit I needed to talk to him again. If having professional mental health support made Ry more confident in starting something with me, then all the more reason to make it to the appointment. And thanks to Richie’s driving, I was actually on time.
I pushed open the wooden door and the three of us slipped into the small waiting room. Howie had his back to us and was leaning over the reception desk talking to Darleen, his snappy but friendly enough office manager.
Owen made a strange sound in the back of his throat, and I glanced at him to find him staring at Howie with wide eyes. I grinned and slapped his belly before I made my way up to the reception desk. I got