“Stuff the boxes. They can wait,” he murmurs, seizing my mouth with his and anchoring one arm tightly behind my back as he walks me backwards across my bedroom until I’m pressed up against the smooth, cold glass. The contrast of his warm lips working magic against mine is heady. I cry out when his hand squeezes firmly on my arse and he quickly spins me around to look out the window. Oh God, I really hope he…
Slap.
That.
***
PRESENT DAY
A knock at the bathroom door makes my heart leap into my throat as I’m brought back to the present. I scurry over to the counter and grab the pregnancy test, swiveling my head around frantically for a place to stash it. I decide my cleavage would be safest, so I shove it down the front of my dress and say with a forcibly cool voice, “Who is it?”
“It’s Booker.”
I exhale with relief that it’s my youngest brother and not Hayden, or worse, one of my other overbearing, loudmouth, pushy brothers that I just can’t seem to get shot of. Booker and I have a special relationship. An understanding. I can actually talk to him…most days.
I walk over and open the door.
Booker’s brow is furrowed. “Hayden sent me in to see what’s taking you so long. He’s just run your mutt, Bruce, downstairs to the neighbour’s flat. He said the guests will be here any minute.”
“Come in, quickly.” I grab his arm and yank him inside, pressing my back against the closed door. “I really mucked it up this time, Booker.”
He pulls a face. “You? Vi, you’re perfect. You’re the only perfect one in our mess of a family.”
I smile at his naivety. Then I want to cry as shame casts over me. I’ve prided myself on setting a good example for all four of my brothers. Since our mum died when we were very young, that left me as the only female in the house. Our dad was busy managing a championship club football team, so I became the parental figure of the household. It wasn’t a choice I made; it was a reflex. I managed their football schedules, acted as their support system, their moral compass, and their voice of reason. Now that they’ve all grown up into professional footballers, it’s my job to ensure they don’t become complete manwhore pigs. That is my job in life. They need me to be the stable one!
Now I’ve screwed everything up and got it all horribly out of order. I’m a hypocrite. An irresponsible imposter.
Booker’s face falls when my chin begins to wobble. “Vi, what is it? What have you done?”
Just when I begin to pull the pregnancy test out from my cleavage, I’m shoved forward by the door and topple over into Booker’s arms.
“Oi, you bloody twats, you nearly knocked Vi over.” Booker helps right me, and I turn to see our eldest brother, Gareth, towering there with his dark, intimidating glower. Shoving each other playfully behind him are the twins, Camden and Tanner.
“What’s wrong with you?” Gareth’s deep voice demands as he takes in my face that’s probably starting to turn red and blotchy by now.
“Nothing!” I quickly reply and force a smile.
Camden shoves past Gareth and marches right up to me. “It’s not nothing, Vi. What’s happened? Did Hayden call off the engagement?”
“On the night of your fucking engagement party? I’ll kill him!” Tanner shouts and turns to storm out of the doorway only to be fish-hooked under the arm by Gareth.
“Let’s let Vi tell us what’s going on before we go thump her fiancé.” Gareth turns and, as if on cue, my brothers file in, close the door behind them, and line up next to each other. I could laugh when they all cross their arms over their chests, awaiting my response, but I’m too busy trying not to cry.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I rasp, clutching my belly and turning away from the Harris Brother Death Stare. “Can I have a moment?”
“Just tell us, Vi,” Booker adds gently, giving me a soft look that he probably means to be calming, but it only sets me off further.
“Why can’t I have a moment of peace?” I exclaim. “Why can’t I have one tiny thought to myself? A secret, even! I’m a grown up. Hayden and I are living together. Why do you four think you can just bulldoze your way in here and bark orders?” I place my hands on my hips in a familiar, scolding fashion that I’ve used so frequently throughout our lives.
“You’re our sister, Vi,” Tanner says, scratching his blonde beard like he’s completely confused that I’d even question this situation. “We want you to be happy. It’s more important than…pretty much anything.”