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When he’d left Divine, he’d been sure he wouldn’t laugh again for a very long time. If ever. He’d headed to Cory’s office, intent on reading him the riot act for everything he could think of, when his brother had called and asked to meet at Shady’s. That was an extremely unusual move for Cory, odd enough Dillon had been compelled to say yes.
It had been a very long time since they’d had a drink together. And they were both pathetically single and obviously destined to remain that way for a while.
“Actually, I’m fun personified.” Cory downed more beer. “I signed up to get my chakra read.”
“What?”
“Dontcha know what a chakra is?”
“Sounds like New Agey mumbo to me.” Dillon uncapped his next brew.
“I even had yogurt and granola for breakfast today. On. A. Whim.” Why Cory imparted that with such weighty significance, Dillon had no clue. “Do you know how long I’ve had Wheaties with skim milk, a glass of OJ, and a cup of black decaf for breakfast? Years, my friend. Years.”
“I’m not your friend.”
“No kidding. Most of the time you won’t even speak to me. Now I know why you’ve been crawling up my ass lately.” Cory’s charcoal eyes gleamed with unholy amusement. Combined with the sickly cast of his skin from the blue lights, he rather resembled a demented, well-dressed Smurf. “Think I’m gonna let her go scot-free because you wanna bone her?”
Dillon faced front and center, his gaze lasering in on a Rolling Stones poster on the wall. But all he could see were Alexa’s stricken eyes.
“You’re drunk.” Truth be told, they were both soused. Neither drank much as a rule, and clearly they both sought to abandon their mental faculties as fast as humanly possible.
“Am not.”
“Are so. You never use the word ‘boned.’ Normally you call sex ‘intercourse.’ Never even heard you use slang before. So…drunk.”
“Fuck off.”
Dillon tipped back his beer. “Why don’t you ask out Vick? She’d be way more interesting than Mel.”
“I told you, she’s too young. Practically a child. She’s as fun as a hurricane. Or an ingrown toenail.”
Dillon croaked out another semi-laugh. “That’s lame.”
“No lamer than you being in love with Lex.” Cory smiled at him around the mouth of his beer. “She’ll never want you because of me. She hates me.”
His chest had gone tight in direct contrast to his suddenly spongy brain cells. “Yeah, I gathered that. So I lied like a moron. I am a moron.”
“No arguments.”
He laughed until his jaw throbbed. It was better than banging his head against the bar until he passed out, the only other option on the table. “See why I don’t spend more time with you?”
Cory’s pause made him glance over in silent question. “You used to like me.”
He had, a long time ago. Before sibling rivalry had become the sibling feud from hell. As the years passed, his best friend had turned into his biggest competition—and worse, there was no competing with Cory. He got straight As and had never wavered for a second on his plan for his life. He’d also accepted his role in the business with the zeal of a nerd snapping on his pencil protector. So Dillon had stopped trying to compete, instead choosing to play to his own strengths: enjoying women who enjoyed him right back and rebelling against everything Cory stood for.
Even when what he stood for was exactly what Dillon embraced as well, despite their different approaches.
Working with Alexa—and becoming excited again about marketing and business plans and all the stuff he’d labeled as “pencil pushing” in his mind—had reinvigorated his love of the other side of the desk. He wasn’t taking a more active role in the company just because he had to. He wanted to.
“I’m back now,” Dillon said quietly. “I’m in, one hundred percent.”
And this time, he’d make sure they did things right, with a joint focus toward profit and helping smaller businesses thrive whenever possible. He wouldn’t skirt the fringes any longer. The only way to ensure that Cory didn’t lose sight of the trees in the forest was to keep drilling the branches into his damn brain.
“With the business?” Cory’s voice lowered. “Or being my brother?”
Guilt flared on the back of Dillon’s tongue, and the beer suddenly tasted sour. “Both. You can count on me.”
Cory slanted him a measuring look, then nodded and sipped his drink.
