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“Please come to the house, Noah. There are things we need to discuss,” he pleads.
“No, you either tell me now or don’t tell me at all,” I say. Chase suddenly flits across my mind, and the need to see him is getting me worked up.
“Noah, stop being a stubborn fucker and—” I hang up.
It might be childish, but hanging up on my father has been a game since my teens. It always sent him spiraling, his face red and veins pumping in his neck. I’ve always gotten a kick out of pushing him, baiting him like the dog he is. He will come to me, though, and I’ll enjoy watching him beg.
CHAPTER 17
CHASE
The doorbell rings, and I run to answer it. Excitement swells my heart when I open it to see my brother, Tyler, on the other side. It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other, and with all the shit that's been going on, we couldn’t have timed a visit better. He’s only here for two days over the weekend, which sucks, but he wasn’t allowed any more time off, so we take what we can get.
A big smile stretches across his face, and he pulls me into a hug. The feeling of family and love overtakes me. All the loneliness disappears, and I just let myself enjoy this short time of happiness. He laughs as I pull back to look at him. His blue eyes, the same as mine, glitter at me with joy. His hair is slightly longer than when I last saw him, long enough that he has it tucked behind his ears, but apart from that, he hasn’t changed.
“Good to see you too, Chase. Now you gonna let me in?” He laughs.
“Shit, yeah, sorry. It's just been so long. I’ve missed you, man,” I say as I open the door wider for him to walk in. He places his bag on the entrance hall floor and softly smiles at me, understanding how much I needed to see my big brother.
“Hey, I miss you too. But I’m here now, so why don’t we go grab a beer and catch up,” he says, and I agree. We both go upstairs and quickly freshen up before taking off in my car to a bar in town.
It's a short journey. We catch up a little on the way. Tyler tells me about his very busy dating life, and I fill in some blanks of what happened with Wade.
“I never liked that asshole. You’re better off without him. You deserve the best, Chase,” he reassures me as we walk into a small local bar, taking a seat in a corner booth as we wait for the waitress.
“I know. Still hurt like a bitch, though,” I say, playing with the beer mat on the table. Tyler's opinion matters to me the most. He was like a father and brother all rolled into one for me growing up. He’s the last person I ever want to disappoint.
“Hey, stop overthinking it. He fucked up, not you. Don’t allow him any more thinking time. He doesn’t deserve it. Besides, he’s probably out fucking someone else right now,” he says, and while I know I don’t want Wade back, that comment stings. Not from longing, but because I’d fooled myself into believing we were happy and that I was enough.
“Sorry, that was a shitty thing to say,” he says after I stay silent.
“No, don’t be sorry, it's the truth. I’m beginning to think it's best to stay single, save all the heartache,” I mutter, settling back into the leather seat.
“I agree, don’t knock the single life. Get out there and have fun. You’re still so young, sow some oats or some shit.”
We laugh, and he’s right. Maybe Noah could be that fun, not that I’ll tell Tyler I’m hot for a potential psycho who is also a patient.
The waitress comes over and takes our order of two beers and a plate of burgers and fries. After a few more updates on Tyler'swork, he gets onto the topic of my work, which I was hoping to avoid.
“So, how are things at the clinic? Still enjoying it?” he asks around a bite of his food. Eating will never stop my brother from talking, whether his mouth is full or not. Heathen.
“Yeah, it's good. Some days are better than others,” I say, hoping that will appease his question. But it doesn’t. I know he’ll start to pick up on the fact I’m not telling him everything, but I try my damndest to deter him.
“Do you have any interesting cases? Any scary crazed patients?” he asks with a grin, dipping his fry into some ketchup.
“You know I can’t talk about patients,” I say.
“I’m not asking for their names, just if any of them are interesting,” he says.
“Yeah, there’s one that's interesting. He’s like a vault, though. But intriguing,” I say, my eyes glancing off into the distance as my vision fills with Noah and his finger in my mouth. Blueberry muffins will never be the same again.
“Chase, you okay? You zoned out for a minute,” he says, brows scrunched.
I’ve seen this look many times. It's his problem solving look, trying to work out what I’m thinking, or in this case, what I’m not saying. I clear my throat and fidget in my seat.
“Yeah, um, sorry. Ignore me. It's just been a tough time lately.” I dig into my food, trying so fucking hard to ignore his knowing glare.
“Oh fuck, Chase, please don’t tell me you have a crush on a patient?” he says with a long puff of air, like this is the worst thing. Which it isn’t, but it's not the best thing either.
