The Other Brother (Binghamton #4)

“What’s my problem?” I put a drywall screw on the drill and secure part of the sheet of drywall to the ceiling. “What the hell is your problem?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I put too much beer down my beer hole last night. Georgie was in rare form last night and decided to challenge me to a drinking contest. For every beer we drank, the other person had to take clothes off. Wanting to stare at her boobs, I chugged. If I knew you were going to be bossy bitch pants today, I would have just seduced her with my manly ways.”

“Don’t fucking say beer hole.” The images for some reason are fucked up in my head and the last thing I need to picture is Racer’s “beer hole.”

“Lighten up, man. You’re making this a very hostile working environment. I’m not opposed to taking this to HR.”

“Go ahead, tell Lucia about your ‘hostile’ work environment. I’ll be sure to let her know you came in hungover.”

Racer studies me. “You know, how about we solve this like the bosses we are, no need to bring our upper management issues to HR.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Yes, we own the company but our silent investor is Georgie’s father. That’s right. Racer’s girlfriend’s dad, therefore Racer tries to avoid escalating any issues to him if we can avoid it. He’s still trying to prove his worth to the man, even though he doesn’t need to.

Racer tosses a screw at me and asks, “Seriously, what is going on? Why do you look like you’re hauling a bazooka around in your back pocket ready to blow the heads off people who get in your way?”

I drill in another screw, my mind racing to the other night. She knows about my brothers, but how much does she know? Will she be able to piece together my past with Trey’s? Will she be able to figure it out?

I never told her. I never came close to mentioning it. When I was younger, I was interested in their lives, what it was like to be in their shoes, but after call upon call from my mom giving me the update on the luxurious and privileged lives they were living, I wanted to forget them, to erase them from my memory. What was the point of talking about them to Amelia? They’d never be a part of my life.

Why would I tell Amelia I was the brother deemed unworthy of a good home?

“Come on, man, just fucking say it. You know you’ll feel better.” He reaches over to tickle my side like the douche he is, and I swat him away.

“Do you want us to get injured on the job? This scaffolding is not going to hold us if you’re acting like a dickhead.”

“Then just fucking talk it out. Does it have to do with Amelia?”

I put in the last screws then set the drill on the scaffolding. I run my hand through my hair and nod. “We had such a fun night the other night volunteering. It was like old times, and fuck, did it feel good. When we got back to our houses, we sat on my truck and talked for a bit.”

“So what’s the problem?”

I cringe, thinking about the look on her face, the one that’s burned in my memory. “I blew up at her.”

“Not with your bazooka?” Racer dramatically asks.

The urge to punch him square in the eye is real.

“Why do I even fucking bother?” I shake my head as Racer stops me from hopping down to the ground, a good distance away.

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood. I’m sorry, why did you blow up at her?”

Thinking back to that moment, I can’t believe the mention of my brothers slipped out of her mouth. That was the last thing I expected her to say. That drunken night, fuck, it was one of the worst nights of my life, only second to when I actually followed through with breaking up with Amelia.

I was so mad, so angry, so defeated. I was striving to be a better man, a more suitable man for Amelia, and then my mom called. She’d received an update on Runt, and on the same day, Tyke happened to email her as well, letting her know how he’d accepted an amazing job offer. Beaming with brilliance about the men she gave birth to, she boasted, only to follow up with a low jab at me about my job, and if I planned on working at the sanitation plant forever.

What the fuck did it matter if I did? It’s not like she’d assisted in getting me to where I was; she should have been happy I wasn’t some lowlife like my father. But reasoning with her was like reasoning with a brick wall, so I flew off the deep end. I decided to drink, and drink I did.

I barely remembered Amelia showing up. I sure as shit didn’t remember saying anything to her, and there was no way I could’ve heard her speak to my mom on the phone. Now I wish I had, because I want to know exactly what was said in that conversation.

“She kind of dropped a bomb on me last night,” I continue. “We were talking about our relationship and she asked why I didn’t let her into my world. I told her she had been my fucking world.”

“Obviously.” Racer knows, he knows all too well what it’s like to be owned mind, body, and soul by a woman.

“She then asked why I never told her about my brothers.”

Racers props up, his jovial attitude morphing into something of serious concern. “How the hell does she know about your brothers?” I recount the night I got seriously drunk and my alcohol-affected attempt to break up with her. “So she talked to your mom?”

“I guess so.”

“Knowing what you’ve said about your mom, I’m sure she didn’t have much of a filter during that conversation, especially if she knew she upset you.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

I pull on the back of my neck with both of my hands. “What do I do, man? Do I ignore my blow up and act like everything is okay? Do I just go about my regular business? Or do I bring it up? Do I ask her for details?”

Racer shrugs, looking a little perplexed too. “I don’t know. I guess it all depends on what you really want to come out of this situation. Do you want to dive deep into a post-mortem of your past relationship, or do you want to start fresh?”

And that’s the million-dollar question. Things could backfire badly if I don’t tell her about Trey. If she finds out I know, or rather knew, she’d been dating my brother—that’s if she breaks up with him—I don’t know if we’d come back from that sort of thing. I don’t think I have as many chances this time around. Fuck. I don’t want to tell Racer and Tucker about that little nugget yet. I’ll have to, but to be honest, I don’t want them to talk me out of pursuing Amelia even though she’s dating my brother. Dive deep or start fresh?

“Start fresh, but wouldn’t that require me to be open and honest with her about the past she knows a sliver about?”

Racer pats me on the back. “It would.”

Once again, that’s what I’m fucking afraid of.

***

Rain and hail pelt my face as I hold up my hand, trying to see where the hell I’m going. It took about ten minutes of frustration and getting soaked, but I finally have my generator up and running after I assisted half the neighborhood.

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