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Oliver’s face hardened as he looked up from cracking eggs into a bowl.
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“Ollie, I actually have work to get done today.”
“Really? The whole company is going to go down in flames unless you get something done right at thisexactmoment?” He crossed his arms. His stare caused me to crack, and I stared at my shoes guiltily.
I had hardly spent any time with my brother since I arrived. I didn’t know how to be around him. What to say. How to be close. It was all strange and unfamiliar.
A thought came to me just then. It was likely just as strange and unfamiliar for Oliver as it was for me—maybe even more so. Yet here he was. Trying.
“I guess I could stay,” I relented, removing the shoe I had just put on and setting my laptop back on the coffee table.
His face softened into his typical agreeable smile as he continued prepping everything for what appeared to be breakfast for a dozen people.
“This is just for you and Harrison?” I confirmed.
“We’re growing men,” he joked. Although, he probably wasn’t kidding about Harrison. I swear that guy seemed bigger every time I had the displeasure of encountering him.
“You can’t count on me for much. I’m not a big breakfast eater.”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “You don’t think I know that? Give me a little credit. We did grow up in the same house for eighteen years.”
“You were sixteen when I moved out,” I said.
“You know what I mean. French toast still your favorite?”
I nodded, surprised he even remembered.
“This will be great,” he said, whisking vanilla into the eggs. “We can head to the gym after this. I can show you the ropes—literally.”
His smile broadened as he waited for me to respond to his pun. I stared at him blankly.
“I don’t know…”
“Remember what we talked about the other day,” he said before making a tsking sound. “You need some adventure in your life. Unless”—he looked me up and down—“you don’t think you handle it.”
“Fine,” I grunted, knowing he wouldn’t relent until I let him drag me along on one of his activities.
“Good.” Oliver flipped a piece of bread in the air before catching it in the pan. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised to find there’s more to life than work.”
Easy for him to say. His entire life involved everythingbutactual work.
“I know what you’re thinking and stop it,” he warned.
“I wasn’t thinking anything,” I insisted, feigning innocence.
“Right.” He looked unconvinced but resumed making breakfast and handed me a fresh mug of coffee. “Look, I know you and Harrison aren’t exactly the best of friends either. We can do something just the two of us tomorrow. Maybe a hike or something.”
It would be pointless to argue against the Harrison comment. He and I had artfully avoided each other this past week, hardly even grunting out a hello when we occasionally passed eachother in the hall. Although my toiletries had been mysteriously disappearing. I hadn’t been able to find my razor. Just to be safe, I started bringing my toothbrush into my bedroom.
“A hike? It’s almost November,” I protested. “Isn’t theresnowin the mountains?”
“First of all, you’ve got to stop saying snow like it’s a dirty word. And second, not yet. Besides, I’m talking the front range anyway. It’ll only be thirty minutes outside the city.”
His genuine excitement at the two of us spending time together one-on-one had me feeling guilty about resisting. Would it really be so bad to spend time with him this weekend? It’s not like any of his suggested activities would take the whole day.
“Alright,” I said.
