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Lucas was confusing. He didn’t talk down to me like other bros did. He actually tried and listened to my directions. And damn, he looked good. But he didn’t strut around like God’s gift. If I didn’t know better, I would think he was a decent guy, really decent, fuckably decent. I had to remember. He. Was. A. Bro. I didn’t hook up with bros. I wasn’t a complete idiot about men.
11
LUCAS
“To Dan. Happy Father’s Day!”We all raised our shot glasses. It wasn’t June. It was cold-ass February. The sun appeared noticeably earlier these days, making you think spring was around the corner. That lie made the cold even worse in my mind.
We were celebrating our friend because his wife Carrie recently popped out a pink bundle of baby girl, and he hadn't slept since by the looks of him. His grin was ear to ear, though.
“Both my girls are doing well. I can’t ask for more,” Dan said.
The entire crew was here. My buddy Rhys and his younger brother Jake owned The Boathouse, a local sailing-themed bar and restaurant. They gave generous pours on special occasions like this one.
Most of us grew up together. Rhys and I had a lot in common. I was the computer guy, and Rhys’s thing was math. Still in college, working on a finance degree, he became CFO of a small start-up that hit big. He married his college sweetheart and appeared to have it all.
A couple of years ago, the marriage crumbled suddenly, and Rhys moved back here. Jake had been training for the America’s Cup race near New Zealand when there was a freak accident, and he’d said it wasn’t the same after that. He decided to come back too, and together they bought the bar that had become a regular hang-out spot for my local friends and me.
Now, Rhys whiled away his hours polishing glasses, plucking out tunes on his guitar, and recently, working out with me. He could deadlift like a beast, and we had fun hanging out again. His solid investment advice was also a perk. Tech had been financially good to both of us.
Dan and Finn were in the middle of a game of pool. Alex and his sister, Angela, two of my brother’s mountain biking buddies, were hanging out along with a couple of guys eying Angela. She was smokin, no doubt, but she was not one-night-stand material for me. I knew her since she had braces and a training bra. Plus, she was no-nonsense and tough as shit. I was more than a little afraid of her most of my youth.
Dan was the first to start a family. He had a kid. A kid! I never had a serious girlfriend and Dan, two years younger than me, had a wife and a kid. I didn’t want a wife or a kid yet. But damn, that motherfucker looked happy. Exhausted but happy.
Rhys was hanging with me while I waited for the next game. Dan wouldn’t last much longer. After a beer and a shot of tequila, the good stuff, he moved slowly and rubbed his eyes a lot.
“How’s the chef?” Rhys asked, glancing over to where Jake and the staff covered the bar.
“It’s awesome,” my brother Finn said after positioning his cue. “Emily and I can have dinner alone again.”
I flipped him off. “She’s good. I’m learning to cook the meals she’s prepping for me.”
“Her food for the farm meal is great. If you can cook like that, Em, and I’ll come and eat at your house.”
“We’ll see.”
“You owe me, man.” I did. “She’ll be here in a few,” Finn added. “Emily said she was coming out with her and ReeAnn tonight.”
ReeAnn was also a friend from high school who moved back after venturing away for a while. She managed the spa at The Elliot, where Emily worked, and she taught yoga there. Peace and calm surrounded her except lately with Jake. They had a serious thing going, and it was new. They had been close in high school but never dated until now. That motherfucker looked a lot happier these days, too.
Jo would be hanging out with us tonight. I hadn’t seen Jo much outside of the farm or my house. She always wore that chef’s coat when she cooked or served the farm meals. I almost expected her to show up in it tonight.
Finn let Dan win the pool game, and I saw his motivation. Emily was sitting at the bar with ReeAnn and Jo. At least, I think it was Jo. This version wasn’t wearing a chef’s coat or the omnipresent pink bandana. Instead, a tight red sweater highlighted her shape.
We racked the balls on the table, and Dan even made a few shots after the break. Finn was next to Emily, leaning in, his arm on her chair, staking a claim. Jake leaned over the bar top to flirt with ReeAnn, and on the other side of her glowing face, a man I didn’t recognize was talking to Jo.
She turned toward him, and wow. Her smile, one I didn’t see much, lit her face, and her naturally rosy lips were a deeper red that matched her sweater. She laughed at something the douchebag said and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear, revealing the column of her neck. Was that a signal she wanted this guy? It better not be because she was mine. Wait. What? No, she wasn’t.
Dan had to nudge me to take my next shot. I had no idea where that thought came from. I didn’t recall ever thinking anything like that before. But I had never spent this much time with a woman, in or out of bed. The University of Washington computer science program and the engineering pits at work weren’t usually brimming with women. AppLake, the consulting firm I’d recently left, was the only job where the office was even close to a fifty-fifty split.
I gripped my cue and took my shots in a half-assed way. I was about to throw this game like Finn did when I saw Douchebag nod goodbye and step away. Good. I turned back and tried to concentrate. I kept imagining her with that same smile on her face while we cooked together.
Dan and I both playing like crap, it was time to call it. “Dan, I think you’re done.”
“Always so cocky, Lucas. I can still take you.”
“Man, you’re wrecked. How about we say this game is a draw, and I buy you a celebratory cup of coffee before you head home?”
Dan’s face relaxed as he rubbed an eye with the heel of his hand. “That would be fucking awesome,” he said on a sigh.
