I scowl. “I know that.”
“Good,” Sophie says. “Then say it.”
I stare at her. “What?”
“Say it.”
I look at Legend for help.
He looks amused now, the bastard.
There is no brotherhood in this clubhouse.
I face Amelia. Her cheeks are pink, but her eyes are serious. Scared, yes, but listening.
Fine.
“No touching unless you say,” I say.
Her lips part slightly.
The room goes quiet.
I hate every man in it.
“No kissing unless you say,” I continue, voice rougher now. “No bedroom bullshit unless you invite it, and I ain’t assuming invitation because we’re pretending in front of people.Around your kid, nothing he has to untangle later. I don’t use him to sell the lie. I don’t sleep in your room. Door locks. I stay out unless you open it or there’s blood, fire, or that polished prick trying to crawl through a window.”
Amelia’s eyes shine.
Damn it.
I didn’t mean to make her cry again.
“And if I want it to stop?” she asks.
“Then it stops.”
“Even if it messes up the plan?”
“Yes.”
Legend says, “Yes.”
Sophie says, “Yes.”
Whiskey nods.
Oaks mutters, “Unless he’s actively punching Vale. Then give him a second.”
Sophie glares at him.
“What?” Oaks says. “Timing matters.”
Amelia lets out another shaky laugh, wiping at her cheek.
That laugh is going to be a problem.
A serious one.