A Long Time Coming (Cane Brothers, #3)(54)

“I can’t tell you what I’m thinking.”

“Why not?” I ask.

“Because it’s about you,” he whisper-shouts.

I take a step back, trying to understand why he seems so jittery, so irritated.

“Well, if it’s about me, then just tell me. Clearly, it’s something you need to get off your chest.”

“Fine,” he says, and then his eyes meet mine. “You want to talk? We can talk. We’ve relied on each other too much, and I realized today that I’m not in a relationship because of you.”

“Excuse me?” I ask. “Uh, care to explain how that’s my fault?”

“Because you became my safety net. Why do I need a companion when I have you to fall back on?”

“So basically, because I was being a good friend, you’re mad at me and trying to extract me from your life?”

“No.” He tugs on his hair in frustration. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what exactly are you saying, Breaker? Because it seems to me like you’re having some sort of relationship crisis because I’m getting married, and now you’re desperate to find someone, and the one person you have been seeing isn’t exactly what you were looking for. Therefore, you’re blaming me for all of it.”

“Wow.” He stands up now, his height towering over me. “That’s not what I was fucking saying. Way to twist my words.”

I throw my hands up in defeat. “Then what are you saying?”

“We’re just . . . we’re too close.”

“Too close?” I nod sarcastically. “Okay, so the friendship we’ve built over the last decade is too good. That’s the problem?” I step away. “Okay, good to know. I’m sorry for caring about you so much and being a part of your life to the point that I’ve actually hurt you.”

“Lia, don’t,” he says, reaching for me.

“No, you don’t,” I say as I turn around on him. “That’s really shitty, Breaker, for you to push me away because you think I’ve prevented you from finding someone to be with. I’ve done nothing of the sort. Your dating life is your problem, not mine. Maybe instead of looking at the people who love you and support you to blame, try looking inward. I’m not the reason you’re not with someone. The reason you’re single is because you don’t ever think anyone is good enough. Your standards are so impossibly high that no one will ever match them. That’s the problem. Not me.”

I turn on my heel, but he catches up and tugs on my arm.

“Lia, wait.”

I snatch my arm away and say, “And what’s the big deal anyway? Why now? Why do you have to find someone now? Just because I’m getting married, you think you need to get married too?”

“No,” he says, a furrow in his brow.

“Then why is this a thing right now? Why are you making this an issue? I’ve dated other guys. Yes, not many, but I’ve had boyfriends. Why is this so different?”

“I don’t know,” he says, looking distraught.

Maybe an hour ago, I would have sat him down and talked through his feelings with him, but not now, not this time. My fiancé, who wants to spend time with me and do something I love, is in my apartment waiting for me. Breaker is being ridiculous and thoughtless. He can stew in his own vomit for a while.

“Maybe that’s something you need to figure out.” I head toward his front door.

“Lia, I’m sorry, okay?”

“No, not okay.” I turn around again. “This is not how we treat each other. I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, what could possess you to have these thoughts and drastic ideas of pushing me toward Brian when I don’t need pushing, but I will tell you one thing. It’s going to drive a wedge between us. If that’s what you want, then job well done.” I reach the front door and say, “And don’t worry about Friday. It’s just looking for a dress, so I won’t need your help with that.” And then I leave his apartment where I pause in the hallway, in the space between my door and his, and I sink down to the ground where I quietly cry. What the hell is happening to us?





“Uh, I don’t know . . . dishwasher?” Brian asks as I flop back on the couch.

“How could you possibly get dishwasher from the clue shark?”

“I don’t know,” Brian says, frustrated. “This game makes no sense.”

“How does it not make sense? You offer a clue to your partner, and then they try to guess, simple as that.”

“But your clues aren’t helping.”

“I gave you three clues. Mouth, dentist, and shark.”

“Yeah, great clues. How the hell do those even go together?” he asks.

“Teeth!” I shout. “My God, Brian, the password is teeth! You should have gotten it with dentist.”

“Well, this is my first time playing. I’m sorry I’m not as good as Breaker. Maybe if you weren’t shoving all this godforsaken sugar down my throat, I would have been able to guess.”

“I wasn’t comparing you to Breaker,” I say through clenched teeth.

“You didn’t have to. I could see it written all over your face.”