Full Package

As we walk along Eighteenth Street, I remind him. “Keep it on the down-low in front of everyone, okay?”


He stage-whispers, “You mean about you having a big thing for Josie Hammer?”

“Yes,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Got it. Because no one else could ever fucking tell.” He yanks open the door to the bar, and we stroll inside, joining the crew in the Ping-Pong room.

Instantly, my eyes find her. Josie rests her hip against the green Ping-Pong table. She wears a red skirt, and little ankle boots that would look fantastic parked on my shoulders. Wrapped around my neck. Hooked around my waist.

I drag a hand through my hair and fix on a friendly smile, lest anyone catch on that I was cycling through my favorite positions.

Josie holds a glass of champagne as she chats with Natalie. The two of them watch Harper as she bounces on her toes at one end of the table, a paddle in her hand. From the other end, Nick serves the white plastic ball, and the two volley for the next minute. Nick is ferociously focused, slamming the ball back at her each time, but then Harper delivers a punishing blow to the right corner, and when Nick stretches to reach it, the ball rattles to the floor.

Harper thrusts her arms in the air. “The streak continues!”

Josie holds her flute high, toasting Harper’s victory. Natalie hoots and hollers.

A new couple strolls through the doorway and into the Ping-Pong room—she’s a petite blonde with wavy, honey-colored hair, and the guy towers over her, a tall and broad dude. The woman chimes in, “Nick, you can never beat her. Don’t you know that by now?”

Nick pushes his glasses up his nose and shrugs. “But I can’t stop trying, Abby.”

“Better luck next time,” the new guy says with a smile.

Harper steps in and introduces me to her friends Simon and Abby. After we all shake hands, Simon drapes an arm around Abby’s shoulders and plants a kiss on her cheek, for no obvious reason other than he can. Lucky fucker.

As I peer around, I see nothing but couples. Natalie and Wyatt, Spencer and Charlotte, Nick and Harper, Simon and Abby. It’s just the Summers brothers who are single, and Josie. The thing is, Max is happy with his status, as far as I can tell. In principle, I don’t object to mine. I was never bothered being a one-man operation. Until I fell for Josie.

Now, seeing all these paired-up friends reminds me that I’m the one of us who didn’t get the woman he wanted.

Wyatt drops a hand to my shoulder. “Ready to be decimated?” he asks as he hands me a paddle.

“I am ready,” I say confidently, taking a deliberate beat, “to obliterate you.”

He arches a brow, like I can’t possibly be serious. But I am, because bar games and me are a winning combination. Tonight, the game has a welcome side effect. Beating Wyatt’s sorry ass keeps me from staring at his sister all night.

“Bastard,” he mutters as I slam the winning ball in our second round, since he challenged me to a rematch after I pummeled him in the first. Foolish choice on his part.

But before I can trash-talk Wyatt about his second loss, Spencer’s voice booms across the room. “What are you two cats doing about living arrangements now that the landlord gave you the screw?”

The man is aces at bringing up the elephant in the room, even unintentionally. Spencer looks at me, then Josie.

She pipes up first. “I’m living with a friend.”

“Lots of pillow fights and late-night gab fests?” he asks. “Or do you style each other’s hair? Color it even? Bake cookies and watch HBO?”

Josie meets my gaze from the other side of the Ping-Pong table. A tiny smile lifts her lips, a private one that I know is just for me. I answer her with a small quirk of my lips, too. There’s a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

But then the hint of secrets shared is extinguished and replaced by something else entirely. Resolve? Acceptance? I can’t tell anymore.

She nods as she meets Spencer’s waiting stare. “Yes, that’s exactly what we do. All night sessions.”

I don’t know if the innuendo is for me, or just to needle Spencer. That’s the problem. She feels so close, but so far out of reach.

Spencer turns to me and raises his chin. “And what about you? How’s life at Chez Summers Brothers? Keeping busy watching monster truck rallies and avoiding all food that requires utensils?”

I look around for Max, but he’s disappeared. “Yeah, it’s one big fiesta of masculine stereotypes. Some nights we beat our chests like Tarzan.”

Charlotte laughs. “I bet you miss the feminine touch Josie brought to living together.”

Boy, do I ever. Charlotte’s words are like a punch in the chest.

Once more our eyes lock, and I try to find the answer in Josie’s light green gaze. But I don’t even know what I’m looking for. “Yeah,” I say, since I can’t manage a joke right now.

Wyatt raises a beer. “But it was good while it lasted, though, right?”