Page 111 of Silver Sweet

My chest inflames. Did not expectthat. “No.”

“Do you want to?”

Yes.

“He’s my bandmate.”

Beckett gives me a firmcome the fuck onlook. “That’s not an answer.”

“So why don’t you askhimthese questions. See what he says, huh?”

He grips my gaze. “How many guys have you slept with?”

Damn.“You ask all his bandmates that or just me?”

“Just you.”

“I see.” I don’t hate Beckett’s directness. At least I know what he’s thinking. “Look, Tom already asked my body count, and I don’t know it.”

“That high.” It’s a statement.

I eye him. “What’s yours?”

“That high.”

“Fuck,” I say.

“Tom isn’t as experienced as you. If I hear you hurt him at all, you’ll wish you never met my family. Understood?”

He’s a good big brother. “Understood.”

“Three four three!” Our order is called. I leave Beckett to grab the two bags off the counter. We’re silent on our way back to the SUV.

Tom is lying across the seat, his hands laced on his forehead like he’s trying not to vomit.

“Hey, sit up.” I pick his legs up, sit underneath them, then I lift him back upright.

“Whoa.” He rests his weight against my side, then blows out a long, measured breath.

“You’ll stop spinning when you eat something.”

Charlie passes a Big Mac up to the bodyguard behind the wheel. “Oscar, we’re going back home. Hell’s Kitchen.”

Beckett frowns. “On devrait le déposer en premier.”We should drop him off first.He’s talking aboutme. They’re probably avoiding my name on purpose.

Charlie digs through the bag, looking for something in particular. “Non. Il vit avec son frère. On n’a pas besoin de plus d’embrouilles ce soir.”No. He lives with his brother. We don’t need more drama tonight.

Beckett takes off his gloves. “Des embrouilles?”Drama?

Charlie hands him a medium fry, then pulls out the fish sandwich. “Son frère est le batteur. Celui que Tom n’a pas embauché parce qu’il le trouvait trop canon.”His brother is the drummer. The one that Tom didn’t hire because he thought he was too hot.

The fuck? I bite down, my jaw tensing. Birdie. They’re talking aboutBirdie.Tom told me he didn’t hire my younger brother because oftiming. That little fucking liar. I want to stake a glare at him, but he’s nibbling on a nugget and muttering something about chicken kingdoms.

And I don’t have time to think about Tom finding Birdiehot. Beckett’s confused tone catches my ear. “Ils pourraient se croiser?”Would they run into each other?

“Tu veux prendre le risque?”Do you want to take the chance?

“Non.”No.