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“She went home.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
His dark eyes catch mine, and there’s a flare of something there. “Don’t apologize. You had nothing to do with it.”
Then he reaches for a bottle of wine that was left in the middle of the table and tips the merlot straight into his mouth.
Matthew laughs. “Rough night?”
“You could say that.”
“Did the two of you break up?” I ask, jumping into their conversation.
Walt shrugs. “Sure felt like it.”
“Honestly, I never saw you together for the long haul,” Matthew says.
Walt shoots him a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Seems like something you should have mentioned before. Maybe pulled me aside and given me some brotherly advice.”
Matthew shrugs. “Eh, I would have if I thought your relationship was really going somewhere.”
I like seeing Walt like this. He’s more relaxed with his brother here, and it’s clear they have a friendly relationship with one another.
“Matthew told me she’s a professor?” I ask, longing for even more information.
Walt nods.
“So is that your type?”
His brows furrow as he tilts his head, studying me.
Boy has that champagne really kicked in.
“I mean, do you normally go for smarty-pants?” I ask after clearing my throat.
His smile is gentle when he shakes his head. “I don’t really have a type.”
“Not true!” Matthew interjects quickly. “Not true at all and you know it, man.”
He jostles his brother’s shoulder and Walt glances down, taking the side of his bottom lip between his teeth in a sheepish grin.
My stomach squeezes tight as I watch him. The sight of him looking so boyishly handsome is something I never thought I’d see. I wish I could freeze time. Grab a camera. A paintbrush. Something.
“Brunette.” Matthew starts listing, ticking qualities off on his fingers. “Long legs. Smoking hot.”
I’m grinning until he turns and points to me.
“Take Elizabeth, for example.”
If I had champagne in my mouth, I would spit it out.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, just…it’s true,” Matthew laughs.
Walt glances up at me and narrows his eyes. I do the same right back, filled with liquid courage.
We have a stare-off for a long moment until I finally cave and roll my eyes, trying to lighten the mood. It’s obvious Matthew is only teasing.
“Well that’s not fair. Now you know his type. What’s yours?” Matthew asks teasingly.
Walt.
That’s what my brain thinks before anything else. Just one word. One name. Walt.
I shake the thought right out of my head and instead deflect with a joke. “Petite. Beefy muscles. Loads of tattoos. Affinity for motorcycles.”
“What about a slightly dorky guy with glasses and a quick wit?” Matthew asks, drawing my attention back to him.
“Are you hitting on my wife?”
Walt’s joke is just that—a joke—and yet my body reacts as if he’s being serious. My breath temporarily bottles up in my chest until Matthew laughs.
“I do think the glasses are cute,” I quip, trying to move the conversation along.
The two brothers glance over, and it’s like the heat of two suns aimed right at me.
Jeez, let a girl catch her breath for a second, will you?
“Shouldn’t we be joining the others soon?” I ask, trying to change the subject as I nod toward the great room.
Walt sighs then pushes to stand up.
“Oh joy,” Matthew quips, grabbing his wine glass.
I do the same with my champagne flute.
Fortunately for us, Walt’s guests don’t stay too much longer. Thank god. After another half hour of forced conversations, Walt escorts his last guest to the door, and then he walks back into the great room to find me with my heels kicked off, lying back on the couch. The champagne has taken full effect.
Matthew is sipping his drink—having moved on from wine—and looking out over the Manhattan skyline. I suggest we play the windows game.
“What’s that?” Walt asks as he walks over to join Matthew at the window, slightly obscuring my view with his butt. Obviously, I don’t mind.
“It’s part I Spy, part voyeurism,” I tell him. “Look outside and try to spot someone doing something in a window. Then describe them to us and we’ll try to find them too. You go first, Walt.”
He hums and stuffs his hands into his pockets as he scans the view. After a minute of searching, he still comes up short.
“It’s obviously easier to play when you aren’t up here in the clouds,” I point out. “But there are still enough buildings nearby that we should be able to find somebody.”
“There,” he says suddenly. “I’ve got one. It’s a woman watering her plant in the window. I think it’s an orchid.”
“Yeah, I see her too,” Matthew confirms.
I force myself up off the couch, giving myself a moment to let the dizziness settle before I step in line beside them at the window. I start looking around, searching for the woman.
“Is she on this side?” I ask, pointing to the right.
“No. Over there,” Walt says, tapping the glass.
