Liam's Pov
The Benz glided down the boulevard, city lights winking like a slow heartbeat. I was halfway to my apartment when my phone lit up on the dash.
'Charlie' I hit answer. "Well, well… the ghost of bad decisions."
Charlie's voice came through in that lazy, I've-had-three-drinks-already drawl. "Liam, my man. You busy?"
"Define busy."
"Are you doing something more important than hanging out with your favorite brother who just got back from Vegas with a smile, a sunburn, and maybe a questionable rash?"
I smirked. "Ah, the trifecta of vacation success."
Eve piped in dryly. "And you wonder why he's single."
Charlie kept going. "Seriously, I just got back, fridge is stocked, ocean's looking good under the moonlight… and I've got a couple of 'friends' who think my kid brother's probably more handsome. You might make me look bad, but I'll risk it."
"Friends, huh?"
"Two brunettes. One's smart, the other's… flexible. Don't make me beg, man."
I glanced at the clock. "Charlie, it's late."
"That's not late. That's 'second gear.' C'mon, Malibu house, good music, bad life choices—it'll be just like old times, except we're older and maybe wiser… but probably not."
Eve chuckled in my head. "You know you're going. Don't even pretend to be rational."
I exhaled, shaking my head. "Fine. You talked me into it. But if your friends start asking me for free legal advice, I'm out of there!"
"No problem, I'll just tell them you're an underwear model, you have looks for it. Easier to explain and way more fun at parties."
The corner of my mouth tugged upward. "I'm on my way."
As soon as I hung up, I flipped the turn signal and the Benz's nose swung toward the Pacific Coast Highway.
Eve's voice had that mock exasperation I'd come to expect. "You had a quiet night, a warm bed, and a perfect exit from social chaos… and you still went for the chaos. I'm starting to think you actually like this world."
"Maybe," I admitted, the hum of the engine mixing with the thought of ocean air and Charlie's never-ending parade of trouble. "Or maybe it just likes me back."
The drive down the PCH was its usual mix of ocean breeze and overpriced convertibles flying past like they were late for a yacht launch.
By the time I reached Malibu, the moon hung low, spilling silver over the waves.
Charlie's house glowed like a beacon for questionable decisions—soft light, open windows, and music that told me the neighbors had given up on filing noise complaints years ago.
I pulled into the driveway, the Benz looking almost too responsible to be parked there, and killed the engine. The front door swung open before I even knocked.
Charlie stepped out barefoot, beer in hand, hair just messy enough to look intentional. "And there he is—the only guy who could make showing up late look like a power move."
I shook my head. "You're holding a drink before I'm even inside?"
"This?" He raised the bottle. "This is hydration. It's ninety percent water."
Eve muttered in my head. "Yeah, and the other ten percent is pure regret."
Inside, the living room was all Charlie—piano in the corner, beach view stealing the show, and just enough clutter to feel lived-in without crossing into disaster.
Two women lounged on the couch, one brunette in a short silk robe that looked suspiciously like it belonged to Charlie, and the other in a little black dress that made me wonder if she'd even brought a coat.
Charlie gestured lazily. "Ladies, this is Liam—my younger, smarter, taller brother. Try not to stare. He gets shy."
The robe-wearing brunette laughed. "He doesn't look shy."
"That's because I'm not," I said, offering a small, polite smile.
Eve snorted. "Smooth. You just sold yourself without even trying."
Charlie wandered over to the bar, already reaching for the bourbon like it was muscle memory. He didn't even ask what I wanted—he just poured.
"So," he started, glancing at me with that half-smirk, "what's the occasion? My little brother… Alan left me a voicemail about you and the DA's office. Did you get arrested or something?"
I raised an eyebrow. "You didn't listen properly, did you?"
Charlie shrugged unapologetically. "I was a little buzzed… and busy having fun with the silk-robed girl in Vegas."
The brunette on the couch raised her glass in mock acknowledgment, clearly the silk-robed girl in question.
"Just back from Vegas, huh?" I asked, taking the drink from him.
"Oh yeah," Charlie said, collapsing into an armchair like gravity was a suggestion. "Let's just say I made some friends—" he pointed at the robe girl— "lost some money, and maybe owe a guy named Tony a phone call. But enough about me. What's this about the DA's office?"
I sipped the bourbon, savoring the warmth before answering. "I wasn't arrested, Charlie. I passed the bar. Took a job at the DA's office."
Charlie froze mid-drink, then broke into a grin. "So… you're officially one of the good guys now. Guess that means I've got to start deleting your number before I make any questionable calls."
Eve piped up in my head. "Don't worry, I've got the backup copies. Someone's gotta keep the family drama alive."
Charlie raised his glass in mock solemnity. "Courtroom drama, fancy suits, all work and no fun!"
The black dress girl leaned forward, clearly interested. "So… DA's office. That means you're, like, the good guy, right?"
Before I could reply, Charlie grinned and answered "Oh, he's the good guy. The kind who makes the bad guys wish they'd gone to med school."
"And you?" I asked Charlie.
"I'm the guy who invites the good guy over and makes sure he remembers how to have a bad night in the best way possible."
The Malibu air was warm, the ocean just a hum in the background, and Charlie's living room smelled like whiskey, perfume, and questionable life choices.
Alicia—the one in the black dress—had that practiced, runway-perfect poise, but her eyes lit up the second Charlie introduced us.
Her friend, the robe girl from Vegas, was more of the "I'm here to have fun" type, already sprawled on the couch.
Charlie, glass in hand, leaned against the bar like he owned the Pacific. "So, ladies, let me tell you about my nephew's favorite uncle—oh wait, that's me but tonight's about my buddy here. Liam scored top marks on the LSAT "
Alicia tilted her head, smiling. "Impressive. So you're one of those genius-lawyer types?"
"Something like that," I said, sipping the bourbon.
Charlie smirked. "Genius, yeah, but don't let the suit fool you. The guy's also fight. Once broke a kid's nose in middle school… and before you judge, that kid was twice his size and had just shoved me into a locker."
I shook my head. "It wasn't MMA back then, Charlie. It was just me making sure you didn't get stuffed into the trash can."
Alicia laughed, leaning in a little. "So you were his bodyguard?"
"More like the unpaid security detail," Charlie said. "Best investment I ever didn't make."
The night rolled on with music, laughter, and more drinks. Alicia had a habit of steering the conversation back to me—asking about New York, about the DA's office, about training. Her robe-clad friend was happy to let Charlie do the talking, occasionally tossing in a story about Vegas that made Alicia roll her eyes.
At one point, Charlie raised his glass and said, "You know, ladies, if I ever get into trouble, I'm calling Liam before I call my lawyer. And if I ever get into a fight, I'm hiding behind him."
Eve slipped in with a dry chuckle. "Great. Now you're officially his personal lawyer and human shield. That's two jobs for the price of none."
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