“You two also call each other all the time—call, not text. That’s weird.”
“We text, too,” he mutters. “But that’s beside the point. We’re friends, that’s it, nothing more. We established those ground rules back in college.”
“So, you’re telling me you never thought about getting together with her?”
“Never.”
I laugh. “You’re such a fucking liar.” I shake my head as I steal the ball from him and shoot, missing the basket completely. Jesus, maybe I should meet up with Breaker more. I can’t seem to score anything today. “So, you’re not bringing her to the wedding?”
“No. She did knit Huxley and Lottie pot holders, though, that I have to take with me.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t invite her to the wedding.”
“I’m bringing some girl named Charise.”
“Some girl? Do you even know her?”
“Yeah. She’s Lia’s friend.”
“Wait.” I pause. “You’re not taking Lia, but you’re taking her friend?”
He shrugs. “I told her I needed a date, and she hooked me up. See, that’s what friends are for. I was her wingman when she met Brian. Unlike you, I can actually be friends with a woman.”
“Seems like everything worked out for me.” I smile at him as he takes a shot from the three-point line and sinks it.
“Do you love her?” he asks, rebounding his own ball before tossing it to me.
I dribble it a few times and nod. “Yeah, I think I do. Hell, she’s all I think about. I’m constantly counting down the minutes until I can hold her and be with her. And she makes me really fucking happy, dude. I think once all this wedding stuff is done, I’m going to take her back to San Francisco and tell her. Feels fitting to do it there.”
“When did you become a man who makes grand gestures?”
“Ever since I started listening to Kelsey’s podcast. Have you heard it?” I ask. He lifts a brow at me, which causes me to laugh. “Well, she’s all about these stories of how people met. She loves the grand gesture, and she soaks in their romance. You can feel how much she’s in her element when you listen. Figured if I want to keep her around, I have to step up my game.”
“Never thought I’d see the day when you matured into a thoughtful man, but here you are. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.” I awkwardly bow before shooting the ball. I fade back while the ball hits . . . nothing.
Breaker lets out a long, drawn out, “AIIIIIIRRRRR BALLLLLLLLL,” like the immature little brother that he is.
Yeah, I need to get out here more often.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” I say to my brothers as I sit across from them at the conference table.
Fuck, my palms are sweaty.
I’ve put a lot of time into this presentation, knowing that Huxley would want specific points. Although I’d planned to speak to Breaker first and toss around the numbers, I didn’t want Huxley to feel we’d gone behind his back. I might want to drive this, but we need to be unified on this direction and the only way to achieve that is if we all use our individual strengths once the idea is on the table. I spent last night running through my idea over and over, explaining it out loud to Kelsey as she sat on her bed with me. She listened to me speak until I was blue in the face. I’d felt ready. Right now, however, with my brothers watching me, I feel like I’ve lost all sense of why I’m doing this.
Kelsey and I drove to Cane Enterprises this morning. She walked me to my office, she held my hand as I went over the presentation one more time, and she gave me the most encouraging kiss and told me to call her after.
I can’t fucking fold, knowing she’s waiting to hear from me.
Taking a deep breath, I look my brothers in the eye and say, “I’m unhappy.”
The confused looks that cross their faces would almost seem comical if I wasn’t so fucking on edge right now.
Huxley shifts in his chair. “What do you mean, you’re unhappy? In life? I thought everything was good with Kelsey.”
“Everything is great with Kelsey,” I say. “This has nothing to do with my personal life and everything to do with my work life.”
“You’re unhappy with work?” Breaker asks, both of them truly concerned. They’re obviously surprised too.
“I am.” On another deep breath, I say, “When we started this company, I joined in not because it was something I truly wanted to do—invest in real estate—but because I wanted to be close to you two. Losing Dad, it was—” My throat grows tight. “Well, you know how devastated I was. And I was feeling lost, tortured at times with memories, and the only way I knew how to preserve those memories was to stay as close to you two as I could. The jobs were simple. Breaker, you’d do the numbers because that was what you’re good at. Huxley, you’d be the idea man, because you’re a natural-born leader, and that left me with the leftovers, handling all media and odd jobs. At first, I didn’t mind it, but as time went on, I grew more and more bored. More bitter. Angry that I didn’t feel like I had a purpose.”