A Long Time Coming (Cane Brothers, #3)(5)

“It’s not the mustache,” I answer with feigned irritation.

He chuckles. “Do you have a boyfriend?” When I eye him skeptically, he holds his hand up. “Not because I’m getting all pervy on you, just genuinely curious.”

“I did until he broke up with me and told me I was lame because I started a fan fiction for Supernatural. I was into different things than he was, so it was hard to connect. Doesn’t seem like I can find many people at all who understand the desire to make Sam and Dean not brothers, but rather . . . secret lovers.”

His eyes widen, and he lowers both legs to the ground as he says, “Hold the fuck on . . . you’re the author of Lovers, Not Brothers?”

“Wait.” I sit up taller. “You’ve heard of it?”

“Heard of it?” he nearly shouts and then lowers his body to the ground, so now we’re at eye level. “Lia, that shit is addicting. I’m not even gay, but Jesus Christ, their first kiss was the best fucking thing I’ve ever read. I had actual sweat forming on the back of my neck while Dean slowly rubbed his nose along Sam’s jaw, waiting for the cue that Sam was ready. And then . . . when their mouths collided, I let out a fucking wallop of a cheer. The sexual tension was unnerving.”

“And you didn’t think it was weird that we know them as brothers in real life?”

“Isn’t that what fan fiction is all about? Creating a world that’s separate from the original?”

I smile. “You get it.”

“Of course I get it. I’m not a moron.” He pushes his hand through his shaggy hair. “Christ, you need to write some more. That was some good shit. I’ll never forget the scene when Dean is naked, gripping his penis, and singing Eye of the Tiger to Sam as he closes in.” He kisses the tips of his fingers. “Chef’s kiss.”

Jokingly, I ask, “Are you fanboying over me?”

“Got a problem with that?”

I shake my head, then whisper, “I can’t believe you’ve read it.”

“I can’t believe you wrote it.”

And then we stare at each other for a few moments. Silence fills the room, an unspoken truth forming between us—this is the start of something new.

“Breaker?”

“Yeah?”

Shyly, I ask, “Will you be my friend?”

That smile of his I’ve grown to know tonight widens. “Are you asking me to start a . . . friendship with you?”

“I believe I am. Is that weird? I mean, we barely know each other. I find your mustache absolutely repulsive, but our commonalities are endless at this point. The fact we can agree that the Winchester brothers being lovers is erotic is unprecedented. I believe that means we need to be friends.”

He slowly nods. “I believe it’s imperative.”

I hold up my hand. “And friends only because that mustache has ruined any sexual feeling I might have toward you.”

“I understand. I knew the risks of what could happen if I adorned facial hair solely along my upper lip.” He holds his hand out. “Friends?”

I take his hand in mine. “Friends.”





Chapter One





BREAKER





Present day . . .





“Got somewhere important to be?” JP asks me from across the plane, his eyes fixed on my bouncing leg.

“Just eager to get the hell away from you,” I answer, a typical brother response.

“Cute.” He lets out a deep sigh. “I hate being away from Kelsey, but the trip to New York was good, right? Setting up our second rent-controlled building feels good.”

A few months ago, JP approached me and our other brother, Huxley, about utilizing our fortune for good and offering some rent-controlled buildings in major cities. The buildings would offer a safe, clean, and fresh place to live, providing assistance to those who might need it—like daycare facilities for single parents, financial classes, and access to a market with wholesale food. The point of the project is to help those who need it the most. It’s been a successful and rewarding venture.

“It does feel good,” I say as I pull my phone from my pocket while the plane taxis to the bunker. I open the text thread I have with Lia, and I shoot her a quick text.

Breaker: Landed. Picking up the goods. You have everything cued up and ready to go?

My phone buzzes right away with a reply.

Lia: I’ve been ready, just waiting on you.

Breaker: Sorry, poor weather held us up. Be there soon.

“Who are you texting over there?” JP asks, trying to get a look at my phone.

“Lia,” I answer.

“Ahhh,” he announces with realization heavy in his tone. “That’s why you’re so eager to get off the plane. You want to go spend time with your girl.”

“First of all, she’s not my girl, she’s my best friend, and if I have to keep saying that to you, I’m going to fucking explode. And secondly, she just got a brand-new glass Yahtzee that we’ve been dying to play.”

“Glass Yahtzee?” JP asks. “That seems like an extremely bad idea. Isn’t the point of Yahtzee to shake the dice?”

“Yes, but this presents another level of a challenge: shake the dice without breaking the cup.”