For fuck’s sake.
I let my eyes crack open, inwardly wincing as the morning—or afternoon—light pours in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
My brother Cash glares at me, his arms crossed over his chest. Does this asshole think he’s intimidating? I swear to God, he thinks being a couple of years older than me gives him the idea that he gets to boss me around.
“Fuck off, Cash,” I grumble, throwing my forearm over my eyes.
“Nope. Get the fuck up. I’ll be in the kitchen making coffee.”
Of course he will. The only reason I have a fancy-ass espresso machine is Cash. The idiot sent it to me as a random gift one day after he came here and I didn’t have anything other than drip coffee. He acted like I committed a horrendous crime. The guy is something else. He’s also my best friend, the one who knows me better than anyone else. Which doesn’t usually work in my favor.
Knowing he’s not leaving until I drag my ass out there, I grumble and sit up, then scrub a hand down my face. This should be fun. Just what I want to deal with at this godforsaken hour.
What time is it anyway?
I glance at my watch, my eyes taking a second to focus. “Jesus.”
Ten minutes later, I make my way down the long hallway toward the open-plan living room and kitchen. “What the fuck is so important that you show up here at six in the morning?”
Cash leans against the counter and brings a cup to his lips, studying me. “Coffee?” he asks with a smirk.
With a sigh, I ignore the steaming mug he’s already set out for me, grab a glass, fill it with water, and then find the aspirin I’ve been tapping into a little too often lately. I pick up the bottle, desperate for some relief from my pounding head. My heart sinks when nothing rattles inside the container.
Shit.
Why is this here if it’s empty?
Did I put it back this way?
Where does Shirley store the extras?
“Xander!” Cash snaps. “Are you listening?”
Furious, I slam the cupboard shut, which is more of a punishment to my head than to Cash, and glare at him. “What the fuck do you want? I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today.”
Cash narrows his gaze, his jaw twitching. “You’re noteverin the mood, asshole. You went to a dark place over a year ago, and just when you started to come out of it…” He pauses, his throat working as though he’s struggling to go on. “Dad got killed, and now, three months later, I feel like I’ve lost you, too.”
My heart squeezes. Without thinking, I take my cup of coffee and head toward the bar to pour some whiskey into it.
“Seriously?” Cash stares at me, his eyebrows pinched. “It’s six in the morning, Xander. Alcohol should be the last fucking thing on your mind right now. I think you have a problem, bro.”
As I bang the bottle onto the counter, I scowl at him, my shoulders raised like a predator ready to attack. “Get out of here with that shit.”
He sets his cup down, his head held high as he glares at me disapprovingly. “I haven’t seen you without a drink in months. You avoid all our calls. Ditch out on group dinners. You can’t fucking do this forever, Xander.”
My vision blurs, and I curl my hands into fists at my sides. I’m vibrating as I take a step toward my brother. I can’t remember the last time we got into a physical fight, but we might end that streak today if he doesn’t watch himself.
“Fuck off,” I growl.
Cash is silent, and it feels like an eternity of thick tension stretching between us. Then, he scoffs and shakes his head.
“You need to get over Nicola. She didn’t deserve to be part of this family. You sure as fuck didn’t love her.”
I stagger back like he stabbed me. It’s not that I disagree. Cash is completely right. I didn’t love her. I loved the big fake picture she drew for me in the beginning and took her words to heart when I should have been paying attention to the red flags. I guess when you’re having your cock sucked on a regular basis, it’s easy to miss things.
But his first comment, about getting over her. That. Have I not moved on?
Before I can formulate any sort of coherent reply, Cash shakes his head and then strides past me, heading toward the foyer.
