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Erin smiles widely as she looks up at her doting husband before looking at me.
“Then maybe you should take Piper’s suggestion to heart. You never know what doors will open for you if you don’t at least knock on them.”
“Hmm,” I mumble noncommittedly.
“If it doesn’t pan out, then at least you might make a new friend,” Erin adds, hopeful.
“What is this? Kindergarten?” Caleb rolls his eyes. “I think what my sister-in-law is so politely trying to say is that if this whole thing blows up on your face, then at least you’re bound to get laid.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, how are we even related?” Jack grumbles at his brother.
“Am I lying?” Caleb defends, wiggling his brows. “The minute Nate goes on that matchmaker’s roster, the honeys will be running over themselves to jump on his dick.”
“Enough out of you,” Jack chastises, cutting his brother down to size with one arctic stare. “You know what? It’s time the peanut gallery went home. Don’t you think, babe?”
“Yep. I think I’ve had my daily dose of douchery from Caleb for one day,” Erin agrees with a chuckle.
“You heard her, fucker. Get going before my foot goes up your ass,” Jack warns.
“You two love me, and you know it,” Caleb states with a goading smile before getting up from his seat. “Come on, Nate. Let’s ditch these two. If I know my brother, he won’t last until the end of the hour to kick all of us out of his house anyway.”
“Forty minutes and counting,” Jack interjects with a smug smile, confirming his younger brother’s statement.
“See?” Caleb arches a knowing brow.
I get up from my seat to follow Caleb out of the kitchen, only to stop in my tracks when Jack calls out to me.
“Hey,” he starts, bridging the gap between us and placing his hand on my shoulder. “Coach told me how Trent is considering suspension. I’m sorry, man. You really don’t deserve this shit.” He lets out an exhale. “But maybe this idea of Piper’s might just work in your favor. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt for the media to see you in a different light or at least have them talking about something other than that stupid-ass bar fight. Having said that, if you do follow her advice and see a matchmaker, just remember there are real people involved. You can’t half-ass a relationship, Nate. If you do this, you have to be all in. Otherwise, everyone will see it for what it is—a PR stunt. And that shit will only damage your reputation more than it already is.”
“I’m the most hated man in all of Boston. How much worse could my reputation get?” I mumble, disheartened.
“Trust me. Break the wrong woman’s heart because you played her, and everyone will hate you even more when she starts airing out all your dirty laundry in public,” Jack cautions.
Fuck.
He’s right.
Another reason why I shouldn’t be considering this ludicrous idea.
“However, meet the right girl,” Jack adds, throwing his head over his shoulder to look at his wife, “and you won’t even carewhat the world thinks of you. Because as long as she loves you, then the rest of the world can go fuck themselves.” He winks.
My forehead wrinkles at his piece of advice as Caleb pulls me away from the kitchen, yapping about going back to his place to have some real fun.
But as Caleb keeps running his mouth just to hear himself talk, I can’t help but throw the loving couple in the kitchen one last glance.
Meet the right girl, and you won’t even care what the world thinks of you.
As long as she loves you, then the rest of the world can go and fuck themselves.
Why does my chest feel like it’s being crushed by the weight of his words?
Could life be that simple just because someone loves you?
And do I even want to find out if that’s true?
These are the questions burning a hole in my mind a few hours later when I’m back home, alone in my empty four-story brownstone with no one to share it with. After too many beers and a few shots of scotch, I pick up my phone and dial the only person I know who is eagerly waiting for my call.
“Hey.”
