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“It wouldn’t hurt, honing that damaged musician look,” Walker calls out from his suite. He stands up, shakes his head, shaking his long, wavy hair in every direction. His dark eyes get bright. “I doubt Kaylee would mind.”
Fuck, I know it’s a Saturday afternoon in the middle of summer, but I can’t deal with all four of us here. Dean and Walker together isn’t so bad. The two of them give me a lot of shit, but it’s good natured.
Ryan’s fine on his own. He’s curt but it comes with a quiet professionalism.
The three of them together—
It’s too many opinions.
They’re like children throwing a tantrum.
Reacting only encourages them.
“Yeah, I know, you know, Ryan knows, everybody here knows. Everybody but Brendon,” Dean says.
Ryan rolls his eyes. “You here to work or to gossip?”
“Gossip.” Dean smiles at his brother. Runs his hand through his hair exactly the same way Ryan does. “Especially about fucking cute blondes rocking the librarian look. You have anything to say about that?”
“I have shit to say about work.” Ryan folds his arms.
Walker chuckles. “You really think Kaylee would give you the time of day?”
Dean shrugs. “I’m speaking metaphorically. We can all appreciate a woman with a nice ass and fantastic tits. Especially when she wears tiny sun dresses and sweet cardigans.”
“And she has hypothetical green eyes and blue glasses? And a heart that beats only for Brendon?” Walker asks.
“I’m not talking about her heart,” Dean says. “I’m talking about her body.”
Walker laughs. He shoots me that you gonna take this look?
“How do you think she’d sound screaming my name? More high pitched?” Dean imitates a woman’s moan. “Oooh, Dean,” he squeals. “Fuck me, Dean. Harder. Harder.” He drops the put-on voice. “Or more low and breathy?” He groans. “Oh. Dean. Yes. Right. There.”
Dean has no intention of fucking Kaylee.
And Walker is right. She’d never give him the time of day.
Dean wants me to snap and tell him to go fuck himself. It’s not happening. The shit that goes through my head is a lot worse than this.
He presses on anyway. “The girl looks at you like you set her panties on fire. You could snap your fingers and have her on her knees.”
“You want to hear this shit or not?” Ryan’s voice hits that I mean business tone.
Dean nods. “I have a lot more shit to give Brendon, but fine.”
“Manning is selling the shop,” Ryan says.
Fuck.
Every bit of joy falls from Dean’s expression.
Even Walker looks surprised.
“He’s giving us the option to buy him out. Any of us. Or all four of us. It’s not cheap, but it’s doable.” Ryan stares back at his brother. “You listening now?”
Dean nods.
Ryan takes a minute to go into the numbers. I’m the only person with enough to buy out the place. But that would mean adding more time to the mortgage.
There’s no way I’m doing that.
But there’s no way I’m letting this shop slip through my fingers either. This place is the best thing in my life.
“We have two weeks,” Ryan says. “Think about it. Check your shit. We’ll talk.”
He nods goodbye to his brother.
Ryan shakes his head as he watches Dean and Walker return to their suites. He runs a hand through his shaggy hair. Shakes his head. “They’re such kids.”
“They are kids,” I say.
His expression gets sincere. Caring. It’s a rarity for him. He’s been sulking over his broken heart, avoiding anything that even resembles earnest emotion, for ages now. “They’re fucking immature, but they’re right.”
“I ask for your opinion?”
“I ask you to invite your crush to hang out here so you can stare at her ass?”
“She was here for two minutes.”
“Yeah, she never hangs out here.”
“She helps out for free.”
“That’s why she’s here, love of our bottom line?”
“You have a point?”
“My idiotic brother is right. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever. And you shouldn’t either.” He motions to the business card in my hand. “She was cute.”
“Not interested.”
“You don’t need to marry her. Just go out. Have fun. Realize there are more fish in the sea.”
“Really?”
“Fuck off. I can be a hypocrite if I want.” He is. He’s been scorched Earth about romance since his ex left. There are no other fish in the sea. Not for Ryan.
“She’s almost as young as Kaylee.”
“She invited you to a bar.” Ryan shrugs. “Your life. Do what you want.” He motions to Anna’s number. “You keep saying you don’t want to be with Kay. If you mean it, then prove it. At least to yourself.”
Chapter Six
Kaylee
There are a dozen boxes in the living room. The space is empty. Sparse. Soulless.
Mom is sitting on the couch, one hand in her lap, the other playing with the silver palm-tree tag attached to her plain black suitcase. She might as well scream we’re leaving California, we’re leaving you, we’re leaving our lives entirely.
