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Starlee's Turn (The Wayward Sons 2)

Page 81

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“What kind of rules?” George asks with a frown.

“Starlee rules.” My eyes flick to Charlie.

He holds up his hands. “She asked me to stay back there with her while she changed.”

“You were back there for quite a while,” George says, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Dude, nothing happened. Don’t be an idiot.”

“Well,” I say, “that’s what is going to continue to happen. Nothing.”

Jake crosses his arms and stares at me. “Why do you get to make this rule.”

“Because it’s my house.”

“What if she doesn’t agree with your dictatorship?” Charlie asks. “She has the right to make her own decisions.”

“She does, but in this situation, I don’t care.” There is no way this is going to turn into some kind of sex fantasy. I’ve lived with these guys for two years. I know how perverted they are. Hell, I know how perverted I am. “It’s our job to keep her safe, warm, and to get her back home. That’s it.”

George raises his hand. I glare at him but nod. “How about body heat? Can we share body heat?”

“Sure. Of course. We may all have to get a little closer than normal by the end of the night. The temperature is going to really drop.”

Charlie makes a face at that

“What about one-on-one time?” Jake asks.

“I think we should stay together unless someone needs to use the bathroom. And,” I check them all in the eye, “bathroom stuff should be about bathroom stuff, if you know what I mean.”

The last thing we need is a parade to jack off in there. Gross, but it’s definitely a possibility.

Jake raises an eyebrow. “Why are you so worried about this? Is it because you don’t want any of the rest of us to have time with her alone? Like you did when you brought her here the first time?”

“I knew it!” George whisper yells, glancing at the bathroom. “What happened?”

I shake my head. “None of your fucking business is what happened. And this has nothing to do with anything like that.” I sigh and run my hands through my hair. “I’m breaking about ten probation rules right now. Sierra is feeling the heat with a home visitation coming up, not to mention all the stuff with your dad.” I look up at the twins. “None of us are in the position to get the benefit of the doubt, including emergency snow storms, but if we keep everything on the level, we can tell the truth and maybe get out of it. If we…” I inhale. “Look, we need to just take care of her, okay?”

“So not even kissing?” Charlie asks—the guilt written on his face.

“No. Just act like a fucking gentleman, is that so hard?” I look them each in the eye. “When this is over, I need to be able to face both my sister and her grandmother and tell them the absolute truth about what happened. Got it?”

That seemed to get their attention and they all nod, even if somewhat reluctantly. Even if they want to argue they can’t, because the bathroom door opens and Starlee appears, holding the lantern. “Is everything okay?” she asks when she sees us huddled together.

“Fine,” I say. “We were just coming up with a plan for the night.”

“Oh good. What were you thinking?” She’s still shivering and it’s a hard choice not to go over to warm her up.

“There are at least four sleeping bags in the back closet plus other blankets. I know my mom had

some quilts in the chest at the end of the hall. We need to grab pillows and we’ll build a sleeping area near the fireplace on the floor. I think if we pile in together, we can keep warm.”

No one argues with my plan and soon we’re building a soft bed to sleep on. It’s big enough for all five of us to get in at once. It’s definitely closer than I wanted to be to the guys, but there’s no doubt we need to stay close for warmth.

One by one, the guys head to the back and change. I showed them the pile of clothing from my dad’s closet. My old clothes are too small. I fight the nostalgia when I pull on my dad’s old gray sweatshirt and pants with the words ARMY across the chest. It doesn’t smell like him anymore, but I remember him wearing it around the house.

When I walk out of the bedroom, Starlee is waiting in the hall in that ridiculous cat sweatshirt, looking ridiculously adorable.

“Hey,” I say, trying to follow my own rules and keep some distance.



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