“You like a big, strong man looking out for you.”
“What? Cause I have daddy issues? Get some original material.”
“He’s hot.”
“So are you.”
“Thanks for noticing.”
She shoots me a get real look.
She takes none of my shit.
It’s one of the things I like about her.
Only…
Fuck does it make me think of Chloe.
Of her bad ass smile and the hurt in her dark eyes.
It’s easier teasing my friend than thinking about how I’m losing the woman I love. “You gonna fuck him or what?”
“You gonna fix this shit with Chloe?"
"You want to fuck him."
"There's a difference between finding a man attractive—"
"No. You want to tear his clothes off and ride him all night."
She tries and fails to play aloof.
Her teeth sink into her lip.
Her blush spreads down her neck.
Her chest heaves with her inhale.
It should thrill me, backing Em into a corner, getting her to spill.
But it doesn't.
It's empty. Same as my ten o'clock and my noon. And, fuck, the odds are bad that my one thirty will be any better.
"Just keep it to yourself." She presses her palms together. "Okay?"
No. Agreeing means this conversation is over. Which means I have no place to deflect. No armor. Nothing to stop her questions from piercing my gut. "I dunno. Seems like Brendon would want to know."
"You wouldn't narc and we both know it."
I wouldn't, but I can still bluff. "Try me."
"Sure." She stares me down. "Why is Chloe taking a few days off?"
"She has some shit to deal with."
"Which is…"
"None of your business."
"Why are you flinching when I say her name?"
"No idea what you're talking about."
"You do realize I was here yesterday when she stomped out the door crying?"
I shrug like I can barely recall yesterday afternoon.
"What the hell did you to do her, Dean?"
"Nothing."
"Well, fix it. I like her."
"I like her too."
"SO FIX IT."
"It's not fixable." The room hums with the sound of the air-conditioning. It competes with the chill, acoustic music flowing from the speakers. I'm not sure who picked this. Only that it's all wrong. Calm, peaceful vibes are the opposite of what I need.
My head is a storm. I need angry. Angsty. Miserable.
Emma slides off her stool. She moves around the counter and places herself next to me. "What happened?"
I shrug like it doesn't matter.
"Drop the chill act, Dean. It's obviously bullshit. What happened?"
"She ended shit."
"Why?"
"She didn't say."
"No way."
I nod. "Way." My voice cracks. Thinking about this is agony. But it's not like it's going anywhere. If Chloe is gone, if that's what she wants…
Nobody changes Chloe's mind. Not about anything.
Emma places her palms on the counter. Uses them to hoist herself onto it. "She really didn't say?"
"Yeah."
She taps her toes together. "But you…" She nudges me with her shoulder. "You must know why. What you did."
Why? "Maybe."
"Your eyes lit up. You know."
"Maybe."
"Well…"
I say nothing.
The door rings and Ryan steps into the shop. He holds his hand over his eyes, blocking the glare of the fluorescent lights.
Which is overkill, because he's bathed in sunlight.
Like an angel in all black.
Fuck, the sight of black jeans is a knife in my heart. That's all it takes. Black jeans.
There's no way I'm going to survive the next week.
Or the next month.
Or year.
"What did you do to him?" Ryan shoots Emma a curious look.
"Chloe ended things," she said.
"Fucking snitch." I pull out my cell. Open my address book. Scroll to Brendon. "Two can play that game."
"You think I'm scared you'll tell my brother I have a crush on a guy? And I don’t… I don’t even like him." Emma folds her arms, holding strong.
But the fear in her dark eyes gives her away.
"Yeah." I nod. Go to press dial.
She lunges for my phone.
I hold it over my head, but Emma is tall and she's wearing wedges. It's within reach.
I step backward.
Ryan moves between us. "Somebody explain."
"Emma has a crush on—" Damn, I can’t rat her out. It’s too low. "A client. He's coming in next week."
She flips me off.
Ryan looks to me with a get real expression. "You think I'm concerned about Emma's sex life?"
"If I was considering sleeping with a client, you'd crucify me," I say.
He rolls his eyes. Turns to Emma. "What happened with Chloe?"
"Yesterday, she came out here to answer a call. Then when Dean came out, she started crying. Really crying. And she stomped out of here. Dean looked miserable. And not even miserable for Dean. Straight-up heartbroken. He's been a shell of himself all day." Her eyes fill with concern.
I'm actively trying to piss her off and she's still concerned.
It's that bad.
"You got in a fight?" he asks.
"No. She ended things." Emma stares at the cell in my hand. "Are you going to put that away?"
"Not planning on it," I say.
Ryan shoots me a serious look.
Fine. I slide my cell into my pocket. It's not like I'm actually going to snitch. I need the damn thing gone. It reeks of Chloe and her cordial, all business text.
Ryan surveys the shop. At the moment, it's just the three of us. Walker is at lunch. Brendon is on vacation.
He looks to Emma. "Do me a favor, Em."
She smooths her dress. "Sure."
He pulls a ten from his wallet. "Grab a cup of coffee. Come back in twenty."
Her eyes go to the clock. "You sure you want to deal with him?"
"Who else is gonna do it?" he says.
"Fuck you." This is bullshit. I have an appointment in twenty minutes. I'm trapped here. I have to listen to his lecture.
I move to the Keurig in the lobby. Plug in a pod. Fill a cup with water from the cooler.
It's not like I'm gonna drink the shit tea this thing makes.
But I need some sort of distraction.
Ryan and Emma whisper. She nods in agreement then moves toward the exit.
"I'm sorry, Dean. I hope you two work things out." She pushes the door open. "Let me know if you need to talk." She steps outside and disappears in the afternoon light.
Ryan crosses the room to me.
He nods to the teal bench against the window. "Let's talk."
I stay put. "Let's not."
"What would you do if you were me?"
"Give you shit until you explained."
"So, skip the middle step."
It's a reasonable suggestion. But reasonable isn't appealing at the moment. Reason isn't getting me anywhere.
Things were good with me and Chloe. I was there. And now, exactly when she needs me, she's gone.
Reason suggests she doesn't trust me.
That, like everyone else, she sees me as a good time and nothing more.
Reason is my fucking nemesis.
Reason can die in a fire.
Tea fills the paper cup with a steady drip, drip, drip. It's total crap. It even smells like coffee.
Ryan takes a seat on the bench. Leans back. Rests his head against the window. "Never seen you this miserable."
"'Cause you haven't looked."
"I know you've been this miserable. But I've never seen you wear it with pride."
Pride is the wrong word, but he's in the right ballpark. I shrug. "Am I getting on your turf?"
"No." He folds one leg over the other. "Being an asshole isn't gonna get me to back off."
"It might. If I dial it up to ten."
He shakes his head. "I'm gonna babysit you until you spill." His voice is steady.
His expression is confident.
I know my brother.
He isn't going to back down.
But that doesn't mean I have to make this easy for him.
The Keurig spits out the last drop of tea. I wrap my fingers around the paper cup. Bring it to my lips.
It's terrible, but the familiarity is comforting all the same.
I take a seat on the bench opposite his. Sip my tea like this is a normal Tuesday afternoon. "How's your girl?"
"Good. How's yours?"
"You heard Em. She isn't my girl anymore."
He raises a brow really, you're stopping there.
Yeah. That feels like a good place to stop. I opened my heart with Chloe. Now she's gone. What's the fucking point?
"Why'd she end things?"
"Why do you care?"
"You're my brother. My friend. I love you."
"Didn't realize you could admit that."