Opal's POV
Opal barely made it into the kitchen before Forrest, Brooks, and Ridge followed, each of them clearly riding the high of driving Ash to the brink of an aneurysm.
Forrest, still grinning ear to ear, plopped onto the nearest stool and sprawled dramatically across the counter. "I have to say, that might've been one of my finest performances yet."
Brooks grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and took a bite, nodding in agreement. "You really did commit. A true artist."
Ridge leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, amused as hell. "You nearly got yourself thrown into traffic, though."
Forrest waved a dismissive hand. "Worth it. Did you see his face? I swear, I saw the exact moment he regretted having siblings."
Opal snorted, shaking her head as she rummaged through the fridge. "You really do enjoy causing problems, don't you?"
Forrest placed a hand over his chest, offended. "Enjoy? Opal, I live for it."
