A Long Time Coming (Cane Brothers, #3)(48)

“Why are you pushing it? If you don’t like her, you don’t like her.”

“It’s not that I don’t like her,” I say. “I actually do. I just didn’t feel anything when I kissed her, and I expected more, you know? Maybe I was nervous. She was tugging at my shirt, and that was hot, so maybe I got in my head.”

“She was tugging on your shirt?” Lia asks, her burrito halfway to her mouth. “Like to take it off?”

“No, like to keep me in place. I liked it. And her lips were super soft. I wonder if I open-mouth kissed her if that would have been better?”

“You didn’t open-mouth kiss her?” Lia asks. “So it was just tight-lipped?”

“Yeah, like a peck.”

“Well, that’s probably why you didn’t feel anything. A peck doesn’t give you much room to interpret attraction.”

“Huh.” I scratch the side of my jaw and grab our lemonade. “You know, you might be right.”

“I know I am.”

“Don’t be humble or anything.”

“When have we ever been humble around each other?”

“Never,” I answer. I lean back in my chair. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Headed over to Brian’s. Things have been a little sticky lately between us, and he’s feeling it, so he asked me over. He’s making dinner.”

“Did you talk to him about the glasses?”

She wipes her mouth with a napkin and nods. “Yeah, he admitted to saying that to his mom.” Fury boils in my stomach. The man is still such a douche, and I can’t ever see myself liking him. “But apologized. I don’t know. I feel like this is when all the rotten things come out in a relationship. It’s best it comes out now, right? So you know you can work through all of it.”

“Yeah, probably.” Just then, my phone beeps with a text. I glance down and see that it’s from Huxley. “One second.” I hold up my finger and then read the text.

Huxley: Can you come over to my place tomorrow? We have some updates I would like to go over.

I text him back quickly.

Breaker: Sure. What time?

Huxley: Nine. See you then.

I glance up at Lia. “Looks like Huxley has some updates.”

“Oooo, Shoemacher is going down.”





Chapter Eight





BREAKER





I’m fucking bored.

Staring at my computer and the Tetris blocks blotting down the screen, I realize that my life is pathetic.

Yup.

This is what I’m doing, playing Tetris on my computer like some seventy-year-old man, all because my best friend is hanging out with her soon-to-be husband, and my brothers are off having copious amounts of sex with their wives. See, this is exactly what I was talking about. I need a life outside of my norm.

I need people to hang out with.

I need activities.

I need something other than sitting at home by myself, wearing a Batman Band-Aid over my nipple because I thought it was funny.

Standing from my desk, I stretch my arms over my head, and I go to text JP to see what he’s doing, then pause. I know what he’s doing, his wife.

Huxley too.

And it’s not even like I can text Banner—our new business partner and friend—because he hooked up with someone at JP and Kelsey’s wedding. Everyone is coupled. EVERYONE!

Stupid, I should be coupled too, not sitting around my house, drinking freaking orange juice and attempting to beat my own personal best on Tetris at seven o’clock at night.

I pick up my phone, click on the thread with Birdy, and shoot her a text.

Breaker: What are you up to? I’m pathetically playing Tetris alone at the moment.

I walk to my bedroom, where I strip out of my shorts and put on a pair of black joggers just as she texts back.

Birdy: I’m watching Sex and the City while feasting on one of our pussy cakes.

Breaker: LOL. Want some company?

Birdy: Always. I’ll ping you my address. By the way, dress comfy. I’m in loungewear.

Breaker: Slipping on a plain T-shirt as we speak.

Birdy: Oh, did I mention no shirt is necessary?

Breaker: I think you skipped that detail. See you soon.





Birdy lives in a really nice apartment.

Gated community, lavish pool, and expertly landscaped. Not sure how much she pays for rent, but it’s probably more than I do, which I find funny given the vast difference in our bank accounts.

I pull into a parking spot outside of her building, grab the box of cupcakes from our class off my seat—never show up empty-handed—and jog up the steps toward apartment 3C.

I knock on the door three times, and I’m tempted to kick the footboard but remind myself that’s something I do with Lia and hold back. The locks are undone, and the door opens for me to find Birdy on the other side wearing a pair of silk shorts and a simple black tank top.

“You brought cupcakes? I thought you wouldn’t have any left after how you took them down in the class.”

“I went on a one-day detox.” I hand them to her just as she steps up to me, places her hand on my chest, and greets me with a kiss on the corner of my mouth. That was unexpected, but I didn’t mind it.