BUTTERFLIES

Not Mike,” Ransom protests, and I wonder where he’s going with this and why he’s suddenly defending me. “He’s way too straight-laced for that. He lives, eats, and breathes hacking.” He goes off half-cocked, putting his hands on his hips and strutting around the room, imitating my deep voice even though his is already plenty deep enough. “Not dragging anyone into our life. That would be a straight-up liability, and it’s not fair to them, either. Love is for sissies. What’s a crush? I’m immune to any and all such nonsense.”

“Oooooh! Has someone finally broken through those thick arse walls? Broached the barrier? The old seal sprung a leak? Burrowed into thy formerly impenetrable brain?” Lancer goads.

Marcus stands back, puzzled. “Wait, is the wedding real? I thought it was fake.”

“The wedding is real. The marriage is fake,” Atlas informs him.

Then why’d he shave?”

I let loose a warning noise as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. “It’s official. I thoroughly and truly hate you all