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It was better that Jessa assumed Harper and I were more serious than we were. She didn’t need to know I hadn’t seen and had barely spoken to Harper since the day Jessa came in for her interview.
I’d felt like a spinning top for the last two weeks. Partly, it was how my personal life continued to crumble, with the secret brother and subsequent split with Trace. Jessa had a way of restoring calm amid an active hurricane. And realizing that I had an extra shoulder to lean on—someone who wasn’t Trace or Axel—was perhaps the most disorienting of all.
My circle had accidentally grown bigger. And that scared the shit out of me.
“Are you in here, you hermit fucking recluse?” Axel’s voice boomed through the penthouse, which he had returned to now that Trace was in Bali. I lifted my hand in a wave from the dining room table, which I used as one of my work setups during the day. I loved working in my bedroom, but it was more geared toward intense late-night work-a-thons. Out here, bathed in daylight and cityscapes, I felt more like I was in my office.
The only thing missing was Jessa.
“What can I do for you?” I asked. I hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on yet, and it was three p.m. That was one of the benefits of working from up here. I popped into the gym for reps on the bench press more than normal. Every time I caught myself fantasizing about the creamy smoothness of Jessa’s breasts, I headed into the gym. I’d be ready for a bodybuilding competition in a week.
“This work arrangement isn’t going to last forever, is it?” Axel said, a whine to his voice. He propped his hands on his hips and assessed the situation at the dining room table. “You’re really interrupting my flow when I have to take the fucking elevator all the way up here just to run something by you.”
“You know there are these things called telephones,” I murmured. “You could try using one of those.”
Axel pulled a face at me. “This is why we built out an entire office suite, my dude. So we could take ten steps instead of one hundred and ten.”
“I’m just helping you get your steps in for the day,” I offered, clicking through screens on my laptop. “Keeping you fit and active.”
“Thank you for your concern,” Axel said, patting his waist through his button-up. “Your insistence on working from home is really going to take my fitness routine to the next level.”
I ignored his sarcasm and focused on my inbox. “So did you have something real to run by me, or did you just come up here to complain about how I’m up here?”
“Mostly the latter,” Axel grumbled. He headed to the window, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Actually, I think we need to call Dad.”
His words landed like a hammer. We’d been putting this off. All of us, really. Trace had assured me that he wasn’t going to talk to either of our parents until he was back from Bali. But that meant that Axel and I had some decisions to make. Some awkward conversations to have. Some possibly life-ruining words to spell out.
I heaved a sigh, abandoning my work as I leaned back in my chair. “You want to do it now?”
“I want to get itover with,” Axel clarified. “So yeah, I think we should just do it now.”
“What are we even going to say?”
“I don’t fucking know. But if we just accept the idea that it’s going to be messy and not fun, then I think it’s nowhere but up from here,” he said.
“I think there’s considerable room to go down from here,” I pointed out.
“You’re probably right,” Axel conceded, “but let’s just do it.” He clapped his hands, then brought out his cellphone. “We ready?”
I smirked at the phone. “Are you sure we should do this over the phone?”
“What’s the other option? Show up at our parents’ house like a couple of merry messengers? With a singing telegram about our father’s secret family? No, Damian. We’re calling.”
It was hard to argue with Axel. Most times it was just easier to let him have his way. I nodded and readied myself for whatever the other side of this conversation had in store for us.
Axel swiped through the phone and made the call on speakerphone. It started ringing a moment later. He sank into the chair next to me, and we both leaned closer, staring at the inert phone.
Our father answered a moment later. “H’lo?”
Axel glanced my way, doubts crowding his blue eyes. “Hey, Dad. It’s me and Damian. You got a second?”
“’Course I do, sons. What’s going on?” The phone rustled on his end, and I could imagine him reclining on his favorite brown couch. He’d had that thing for way too long, and he even insisted on moving it after we built him and Mom a brand-new house in the country. He’d rejected any number of offers to buy him a new recliner. He only wanted that ratty old thing.
“Hey dad,” I said softly. “You hear that Trace went to Bali?”
“No, I didn’t. Where on earth isthat?”
“It’s in Indonesia,” I said. “Really close to the equator. Famous for the beaches and coral reefs and stuff.”
