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“Right, you look super relaxed and ready to have a good time with your brother. What do you want to do now that you’re in town, anyway?” He moved from the doorway and plopped himself down on his worn, tan sofa. It looked far older than the amount of time he had owned this house—like he’d found it on the side of the road. I wouldn’t put it past him.
Joining him, I perched on the other end of the couch. “I told you. I’ll be busy with this merger. I doubt I’ll be around much.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s always work, work, work with you.” He scrunched up his nose in distaste. “Selling a company at twenty-seven for millions of dollars wasn’t enough. You’ve always got to keep working yourself into the ground.”
“It’s still my company.”
“Isn’t it technically not, though?” He grinned, clearly baiting me.
I narrowed my eyes and shot daggers at him. Before I could open my mouth to fire back, he waved his hands in front of his chest.
“I’m messing with you. I didn’t mean to rile you up.” Although judging from the creeping smile on his face, I had the suspicion that was his exact intent. He sprung up and gestured for me to follow. “C’mon and humor me. Let me give you a tour.”
I gave a curt nod and let him pull me through each room of his house. He indicated where I could find things like silverware and towels. When we got to the hallway, he pointed out the largest of the bedrooms which was his own.
“And this next room is where Harrison sleeps.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You still live with Harrison?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I? He doesn’t have to pay a fortune for rent and I get money toward my mortgage. All of his savings is tied up in his shop anyway.”
Just then a guy almost as tall as the two of us with long jet-black hair tied into a small bun and a meticulously trimmed beard opened the door.
He looked me up and down and nodded tersely. “Nathan.”
“Harrison,” I responded.
“You two chatterboxes. How will I get you two to shut up now that you’re both under one roof?”
Harrison smirked. My brother’s childhood best friend had always been the stoic type. I had never understood their friendship, to be honest. While Ollie was the type to engage in a two-hour conversation with the stranger beside him on an airplane, Harrison was more inclined to trap someone in an intimidating silence. In addition to the hard edge to his gaze, he was also covered in tattoos and looked all around unapproachable. If I remembered correctly, he owned his own tattoo parlor now.
It shouldn’t bother me that they both moved here without a plan and seemed to have found success in their own way, but it did. Neither had put in the long, grueling hours into school that I had growing up.
I would never admit this to either of them but growing up I had always been a bit jealous of their relationship. Maybe if Oliver’s best friend was more social and outgoing like him, I could have accepted it. But instead, he found someone pricklierthan me. Their closeness always made me feel like an outsider, even if they did try to include me as a kid. I just let them be and instead chose to focus on my studies and getting ahead.
“Will we be sharing a bathroom?” I asked after doing the mental math of the layout in my head.
“I’m tidy, I promise.” Harrison snickered, shooting Ollie a look. “Got to run to the shop.”
Without a goodbye, he nudged past us and out the front door.
“You didn’t mention the tight quarters on the phone,” I muttered once Harrison had closed the door behind him.
“What’s tight? Two thousand square feet, remember? Besides, we’re all family.”
I grimaced. Despite knowing Harrison for nearly two decades, the notion of sharing a space as personal as a bathroom with him evoked a strong sense of discomfort. How could I be certain he’d be the type to clean up after himself after shaving?
“He's clean, almost unbearably so,” Ollie said as if reading my thoughts.
“If you say so.”
“Seriously, Nathan. Don’t be so uptight. This is going to be great. Three guys, reunited, living their best lives under one roof. When are we going to get this chance again?”
“That sounds like a generic sitcom that would get canceled after the pilot,” I said.
Oliver smacked me on the shoulder—a little harder than I would have expected. I stumbled backward and glared at him.
“What was that for?” I barked.
