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Mostly, I refused to react to Rhyett as he clenched his jaw and drilled holes in my skull like he’d developed laser vision in Florida.
This was the difference between the two of us. We might have been close, but growing up, Rhyett was all golden boy, to my rebel-without-a-clue. Not that he wouldn’t get his hands dirty or throw down if he needed to, because he would. He always had our backs, end of story. But I was the unhinged one of the two of us. The one that thrived on it. The one people were nervous around because they just weren’t ever sure what to expect. We’d collectively decided to let them keep being nervous when we were kids; we thought it might come in handy someday.
Which meant the shit-eating grin on my face equated to one of two things. Trouble. Or victory. His job at this table was to decide which one he was looking at. Mine was to make him question himself.
Rhyett discreetly peeked at his cards against the table before rolling his lip between his teeth.Oh shit, no way in hell.
I knew that tell.
“I fold.” He sighed, resigned to his decision as he leaned back in the chair, jaw working as he narrowed his eyes on me expectantly.
Goddamn, that was close. Every single muscle in my body relaxed, disbelief tangling with the win. There were few things as satisfying as winning on a bluff. I mean, winning on pocket aces was generally more enjoyable and didn’t tie my innards into a knot.
He turned over his cards to reveal a straight flush, and I tried not to have a coronary as I cleared my throat and collected my winnings. What the hell did he think I was sitting on? What were the odds of my brother having a straight flush andmegetting a royal flush in one sitting? Fucker had been in Florida for too long.
“What did you have?”
I shook my head, pursing my lips as I pulled the chips across the green felt, their subtle clink and clatter music to my ears. Un-freaking-real.
“Come on man,” Rhyett insisted. “You know I hate it when you do that. What did you have?”
“That’s for me to know and you not to find out.”
“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled, tonguing a back molar as Axel and Maverick both headed for the ice chest and Broderick let out a long, breathyphew.
“Welp, I’m out of here before fists start flying,” Max said as he stood. He was one of the ‘bonus siblings’ we’d gained somewhere along the way. He was best friends with my younger sisters, Hadlee and Elora, eventually scooping up Alice too, electively making him a permanent addition to our already-too-damn-busy household. Proudly half-Japanese, the man hit the genetic goldmine and hadn’t aged since we were in high school. With his dark hair expertly styled and designer jeans tucked over leather shoes, he looked like he’d walked off some chic magazine shoot. He squirreled his cash away into investments like they were going out of style and loved whatever nebulous career none of us could explain if we had a gun to our heads. All I knew was it involved an ungodly amount of conference calls at odd hours, and he could type at least a hundred words per minute. Max would absolutely not be partaking in any violence, but he loved us all enough to at least show up and bail us out. He’d say it was for the girls, but we knew better.
“Good to see you,” Rhyett said, standing and pulling him in for a hug as Broderick and I did the same, passing him down the line.
“Same,” Max said with a grin. “How long you in town?”
“Two weeks is all. Here for the festival, but we’ll fly out when the season starts.” The small talk and farewells continued as everyone shuffled around gathering jackets, exchanging hugs, and heading out the door.
When the townhouse was finally empty, save for Rhyett, I sighed a breath of relief. The week had been long, and it was just getting started. Couldn’t shake the feeling in my chest like a shoe was about to drop, which was never a good sign this close to summer. My brother, the eternal boy scout, was already busying himself with cleanup, cards and chips already back in their places on the table, and he was halfway through rolling the tops down on the chip bags before clipping them closed.
Smirking, I demanded, “What in God’s name did you think I had?”
Rhyett shook his head, lips quirking.
“Finally get a girl and let your brain fall out or something?”
He chuckled, grumbling, “Give me a break, my head wasn’t in it.”
“Welp, you made my entire month, so whatever Brex is doing to you, I’ll pay her to keep doing it.”
“Jealous?”
“Not even a little. The pretty ones are always more trouble than they’re worth.” That lesson had been learned the hard way, and there was no need for a repeat.
I made my way to the tower of dirty dishes, rolling my sleeves up and staring out at the soft glow of evening as it filled the gaps in the woods. Exhaustion competed with the awareness I should at least attempt to make conversation.
“Well, what’s Brex think of Mistyvale?” This was the first time he’d brought his new lady home to meet everyone–hell, it was the first time he’d broughtanywoman home.
“She’s thrilled. To her, it’s all easily romanticized, you know?”
I snorted. “The magic is innotexisting in the gray nine months out of the year.”
“Exactly. She says she’s been ready for a change for ages, so it’s refreshing.” Rhyett came to lean against the counter beside me, crossing his arms over his chest with a furrow on his face. I could’ve pinched a damn dime between his eyebrows. He cleared his throat as though he didn’t already have my attention. “Listen, Jameson, there’s something else I need to talk to you about.”
