“Some sports game?” I laugh. “Not even sure what sport?”
“A ball was involved.”
“Well, that narrows it down.”
She chuckles. “Either way, I’d love to watch it. Shall we start it now? Bring our food over to the couch.”
“If you’re cool with that.”
She tips my chin up and, in a gooey voice, says, “Anything for my pickle.”
“Brian would have hated that documentary.”
That’s because Brian is a douche.
But I keep that comment to myself.
“Yeah, didn’t quite scream something Brian would have enjoyed.”
Lia shifts and then pokes my stomach. “You going to be okay? You’re usually a little more chatty when we watch documentaries.”
“Yeah, I was just thinking. I’ll be good, though.”
“You know, if you need to talk about it, I’m always here.”
“I know.” I take her hand in mine. “Thanks, Lia.”
She gives it a squeeze. “You’re welcome. Now get out of here and go to bed. You look like trash.”
I smirk. “Can always count on you to deliver the truth.” I pull her into a hug and give her a kiss on the top of her head. “Night, Lia.”
“Night, Pickle.”
I let go and then head to my apartment just as she closes her door. I strip out of my clothes, splash some water on my face, and then brush my teeth. Once I’m ready for bed, I plug my phone in to charge, slip under my covers—naked—and then place my hands behind my head and stare up at the ceiling.
The entire night, I kept wondering why I was so affected by this. I know Huxley will take care of it. I’ve been getting texts from him all night about how we’re going to make sure Gemma doesn’t speak another word about me, but even with that reassurance, I still feel . . . weird.
And I think it comes down to her attack on my character. Gemma attacked the one thing I take great pride in, and that’s being a good guy. Between my brothers and me, we all have different personalities.
Huxley is the grump, the domineering, the take-no-prisoners kind of guy.
JP is the funny one, the easygoing guy, the instigator at times.
And me . . . well, I’m the levelheaded—the sounding board—and the good guy.
So having my name slandered with vehement lies is just so fucking painful. I’ve worked so hard at being above reproach.
Respected.
Trusted.
And someone people could rely on.
For the most part, I’ve accomplished that, but this . . . this just makes me think that maybe I didn’t.
I scrub my hand down my face just as a light tapping comes from the other side of the wall.
And just like that, a smile spreads across my face.
Reaching up to the wall, I rap my knuckle four times.
Like clockwork, she knocks three.
Four knocks for four letters in love.
Three knocks for three letters in you.
It’s something we’ve done ever since we shared a wall. It’s a gentle reminder that even though I’m angry, irritated, or even sad, at least I have Lia, my best friend, the one person who can so easily put a smile on my face. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
I don’t even want to think about it. Even when things in my life are out of balance, there’s one very solid, very predictable constant. Lia.
Chapter Two
LIA
“Morning,” Brian says through the phone. “Just wanted to remind you that we have lunch with my mom this afternoon.”
I lift my cup of coffee and say, “Yup, don’t worry, I’ll be there fifteen minutes early so she doesn’t have to comment on how I’m there only five minutes early.”
“Be nice,” he says.
“I’m . . . I’m—”
“So did you tell him about us last night?”
I stare down at the engagement ring sitting on my dresser. No, I didn’t tell him. Brian is not a fan of Breaker’s. “Not yet. It wasn’t a good time last night.”
“Lia, how could it not be a good time to tell your best friend you’re engaged?”
“He has some really bad things happening at work right now. Like . . . inimical circumstances. He found out about it last night. I didn’t think it was appropriate to just spring it on him.”
“What’s going on?”
“Confidential things,” I answer because even though Brian is my fiancé, Breaker is my best friend and deserves his privacy, especially regarding his business. “Anyway, I’ll tell him soon.”