mental notes on what Hunter was saying.
Normally, I wouldn’t be thinking about Brax in nothing but his tight briefs and silk robe.
Shit. This was getting bad.
5
Braxton
Domino warned me by attacking my bare feet first, and I shooed him, too entranced by the process of painting to really hear what he was trying to tell me. Color! Yes! It was working. The figure was coming to life. When I was in the zone, it was easy to forget the painting was of Ry. It only remembered when I stood back and considered the shade of blue I was adding. It made me grimace a little, embarrassed and certain I’d come across as a sycophant if anyone saw it. I should have been tending to my serious art, the paintings for my upcoming show. But my inner artist wouldn’t let me even think about my real work until I’d put some strokes down on the fun stuff. And apparently there was nothing more fun than added a little color to Ry’s portrait…
The kitten struck again, this time clambering up onto the cabinet and knocking my brushes to the floor. Before I could scold him, he leaped at me. I squealed in fear as the pint-sized predator latched onto my overalls, and then burst out laughing as he clambered up to army-crawl vertically up my body. I scooped him into one hand and held him up to my face.
“What is it, little crazy? You got breakfast already… You wanna play?”
He meowed in my face, which I took as a yes, but when I went to grab the laser pointer, I glanced at the clock and almost fell over. It was already lunchtime and I was running late.
“Is that what you were trying to tell me?” I held him as I quickly stripped out of my paint-splattered overalls and rushed into the bedroom for a fresh outfit.
Domino started purring, and quickly settled where I set him down on the bed.
“You’re turning into a personal assistant, I swear.” I squeezed into a pair of acid wash jeans and threw on a black sweater I’d painted with a dayglo orange line figures, scooped up Domino and a pair of shoes on my way out.
Down on the second floor, we let ourselves into Owen’s apartment without knocking. Who knocks? No one in the Vanguard Tower, save for the new guys—Eli’s new boyfriend, Wyatt, always did, he was super polite. But I wondered how long his etiquette would last. Seb was Derek’s boyfriend and he’d been around a couple of months longer than Wyatt, so he was getting more comfortable with the Vanguard way of doing things—everyone knowing everyone’s business, someone always around to talk to, and never respecting closed doors.
But Seb, standing just inside Owen’s apartment, jumped with fright when Domino and I barged in, like he wasn’t expecting us.
“Why so skittish, Seb?” I poked his rib on my way past as he clutched his chest. I was heading for the dining area and my stomach was rumbling.
“Skittish? Me?” Seb blew air between his lips and followed me toward the kitchen at the far side of the open-plan living area, where three of my brothers were fighting over a bread knife.
I walked backwards across Owen’s minimalist apartment so I could raise my eyebrows skeptically at Seb. He’d had a touch of trauma in his recent past, and he worked with my brother, Matt. Doing what, no one knew. Matt had been secretive about his freelance work since getting out of the marines, but I suspected something to do with security. With Seb on board, I figured they were doing something digital, too—he was an accomplished white hat hacker. And given how jumpy Seb had been lately, I bet it was something big.
Seb just squeezed his lips shut and shrugged apologetically as he followed me to the kitchen.
Domino squirmed in my hands when he spotted Polly and I set him down to play with his sister. The two of them immediately started fighting, tumbling across the apartment in a single ball of fur and sharp claws. I loved how much energy the kittens had injected into the building. Seb and Wyatt were good additions too.
“No, if you slice it at an angle then we all get larger slices.” Richie, my tall black brother, yanked the knife out of Owen’s hand.
The redhead yanked it right back and went to cut the loaf of fresh bread straight down the middle, before Matt grabbed his wrist with a muscled hand. Owen