figured it was that purple-haired professor he refused to talk about. “I, personally, prefer to know what I’m walking into. Call it a personal fetish.”
“Says the man with the sex hotel,” Jason said, with another laugh.
But all Charlie could think about was Maya, calling him a liar. Calling him out, ripping him to shreds and walking away.
Again.
“Is that it?” he asked, not bothering to pull out his own lazy drawl and pretend nothing got to him tonight. “I’m actually in the middle of something.”
He would have hung up already, but they’d all signed those damned papers. He was forced to be a part of what the lawyers had called “the St. George family.” Charlie knew better than to get carried away at the sound of that word. The only family he’d ever had was his mother and stepfather. His mother was all smiles when she wanted something and a raging bitch every other minute of the day. She’d never treated him like he was anything but a burden. His stepfather had groomed him to be a weapon and had knocked him on his ass when he didn’t act as ordered, when ordered. And while his half brothers and half sister hadn’t exactly achieved those levels on anything so far, it wasn’t like he trusted them.
Do you trust anyone? a voice inside him asked. Do you have the slightest idea how to trust anyone?
It sounded far too much like Maya for his taste.
“Mahalo, assholes,” Jason said cheerily, as always. “I have a wave to catch.”
And he disconnected with his middle finger.
Charlie went to hang up, too, but something in the way Thor was studying him stopped him. “What?”
“Are you well?” the glacial Icelander asked.
Coolly, the way he did everything.
Charlie frowned. “Why does that feel like a loaded question?”
“You look different,” Thor replied. “Less...aggressively relaxed than usual.”
“I’m going to make ‘aggressively relaxed’ my new band name.” Charlie forced a smile, but it didn’t feel right. Nor did it appear to impress Thor. “I told you I was in the middle of something.”
“If I could offer you some brotherly advice,” Thor said, a rueful expression on his face, suggesting he knew exactly how ridiculous that sounded.
“Is that a thing we do now? Because that’s a hard pass on my end. I’m fine.”
“Yes, of course.” Now Thor looked amused. “I have also been as fine as you look. And all I will say is this. A little something I’ve been considering. It is always possible that our father’s manipulation was not to control us with these hotels and these lives he set out for us in his will. It is always possible that the aim was to free us from our other lives instead.”
“This sounds like the raving of someone who finally got himself a girlfriend,” Charlie bit out. “Getting it on the regular must have fried your brain, Thor. So let me remind you. Our dear, departed father never did a goddamn thing to free anybody. He was a piece of shit. Where I come from, the kind of piece of shit he is would end up dead after he betrayed the wrong person. But it’s always different for rich assholes, isn’t it?”
“In the spirit of all the families I’ve ever known, you certainly don’t have to take this advice. I’m just sharing it.”
“Family isn’t a word I like all that much.”
This time, there was no mistaking the way the other man’s mouth curved, just like there was no mistaking the perfect awareness that sprang between them. They were brothers by blood, called family by the world, but that only made the word more meaningless. It had nothing to do with what Charlie had called his family back home. Those ties of obligation like claws, sinking in deep.
He’d never been to Iceland, but if he had to guess, he’d say his newfound older brother had some experience with those same claws and the damage they did.
“I understand,” Thor said. “Enjoy your evening.”
But when Charlie finally hung up, he felt...shaken. He didn’t understand what was going on. When had he turned into this easily shook fool, who cared what a piece of ass said to him? Who let some stranger who happened to share half of his blood get in his head?
He needed to shut this down. All of this.
But when he found himself out in the village again, out in the dark and the cold and running up those stairs like a maniac, all he could see was Maya.
And it occurred to him that despite everything he had no idea who he was if he wasn’t pretending...something. Wearing a mask. Smiling when he was murderous. Laughing when he wanted to punch a wall.
Pretending he felt nothing when the truth was, he felt too much.
What would happen if he stopped?
MAYA CHANGED OUT of her slinky dress, throwing it across her bedroom as if that could spare her another dousing rush of the embarrassment that had chased her all the way from the piazza. Her heels followed, one after the next, clattering against the floor as she tossed them aside. With force. She stripped down completely, as if the outfit was to blame for what had happened in that bar. And all her choices leading up to it.
When she dressed again, it was in soft, flowy, comfortable clothing that was as close to a hug as she was likely to get tonight.
Or ever again, a dour little voice inside her pronounced.
She told it to shut the hell up.
That was when she heard a faint noise from the other room. She stormed out of the unlit bedroom, her bare feet slapping against the floor.
And maybe she had been expecting him. Because when she looked at Charlie standing there on the inside of her door, his blue eyes brilliant and the hint of exertion making his cheeks ruddy, she felt a whole mess of things.
But none of them was surprised.
“Now you’re just letting yourself into hotel rooms?”
“It’s my hotel, Maya. I have the key. I have all the keys.”
He sounded even more dangerous than usual. It made something in her tip over, then hum.
But she thought she’d rather die than let him see that. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that the owner of a St. George hotel should not be breaking into a guest’s room. That’s not the sort of thing you’re going to want to put in your brochures.”
“What is it you think I’m keeping from you?” He threw it at her, and he sounded different than he had down in the village. More dangerous, yes. But also more raw, if that was possible. “This whole song and dance about how I’m lying to you is bullshit.”
“I’m
