There was more talking happening downstairs, all quieter than before. Cross had joined the conversation, and I heard the squeak of another door. Recognizing the basement door, Jordan was about to either join the convo, get coffee, or head back downstairs. A beat later, he passed by the stairs and glanced up. Doing a double take, he changed courses and came up.

He nodded at Z, leaning against the wall and folding his arms over his chest. Instead of boxers, he was wearing only pajama pants. They were slipping low on his hips and his eyes took me in, staying on the side of my face the longest. “What are you doing up here?”

Right.

I forgot.

“You guys had people over last night. Cross thought we’d sleep better up here. The sounds, you know.”

He cringed. “Sorry. I didn’t even think of that.”

I shrugged. “Usually you’re fine. No big deal.”

“How are you feeling this morning?”

I lied, “Better.”

Both started laughing.

“Such a shitty liar, Bren.” Jordan tsked, grinning, but he nodded toward the bottom of the stairs. “Should we wade in?”

There was sound behind us, coming from Zellman’s room. The bed creaked, padding barefoot, and then his bathroom door shut on a similar sounding creak like the basement door.

Zellman was hiding a grin.

Jordan’s head inclined. “Are you kidding me?”

Zellman shrugged.

I added, “It’s my nurse from yesterday.”

“What?”

Zellman laughed under his breath. “She slipped me her number, asked to give it to you. I used it instead. She didn’t seem to mind last night.”

And now I knew how that happened.

“Jesus.”

I was snickering, too.

“Enough!” That came from Cross, and hearing his irritation, the rest of us snapped back to attention.

I sighed.

Yes, I had a concussion, but I’d been the one to call my dad to town. Cross was right. Enough was enough. I started to move down the stairs, but Zellman caught the back of my shirt. He raised his eyebrows. “You can hide today, you know. You’ve earned that. We can handle this.”

That was tempting, but I shook my head. “Concussion or not, I need to deal with my dad and let Chan know that he doesn’t need to literally sleep on my couch to take care of me.”

“You sure, Bren?” Jordan dropped his voice low.

I could hear my brother talking in a muffled voice downstairs. The old memories were starting to swim to the surface. I couldn’t deal with that. They’d be fighting in two seconds, Cross was in the mix.

Yes. I was sure.

Cross was standing in front of the door, arms crossed over his chest as I came down the stairs.