pushed for answers, but the questions were there. I felt them. Every day. They wanted to know, and I couldn’t blame them. They were concerned. I waited to see if he would ask more, but I didn’t grit my teeth. My stomach wasn’t clenched in knots. He didn’t strike me as someone who would care. He wouldn’t ask the invasive questions. He was easygoing with a joke at the ready all the time. There was also a darker side, but I don’t know…maybe I was just lonely, and he was the only other person I knew.
That was it.
I was lonely. Good God. How pathetic.
Logan pulled back into the street and headed to the next intersection. “Now that I feel all close to you, you’re stuck with me,” he announced. “I’m hungry. You’re going to keep me company.” He rubbed his flat stomach. “The taco place by my house doesn’t close for another half hour.”
LOGAN
I whistled as I locked my car and headed for the house, bag of food in one hand and keys tossed in the air with the other.
I’d been at a party. Texted Hot Girl, picked her up for a random adventure, and now I was home after dropping her off. It was a few minutes till four in the morning on a Monday night, but this was college. This was life. This was what I was supposed to be doing: staying out, going where I wanted—not sleeping a solid eight hours a night and being wifed up.
Nothing against my brother’s girlfriend, but the writing was on the wall. Mason and Sam had been through too much at an early age; they were going to be together forever. And that was the kicker. I don’t even think they cared. They probably relished the idea of being only in each other’s arms for the rest of their ninety years. I wasn’t giving them an extra ten. Shit, Sam might endure that long—who knew if all that running she did was good for her body or was slowly killing her.
Nah, I guessed she’d tucker out around eighty-nine. My big brother? Seventy-five, and that was being generous. He was too cold, calculating, and disciplined. He’ll have been under too much stress to make it longer than that.
Me, on the other hand, a solid eighty-three. And a horny eighty-three, too. I’d be doing the same shit as now. I’d get my tacos delivered to me in an old folks’ home, preferably by some young thing. The idea had merit. I grinned as I headed inside, thinking of the sponge baths.
I stopped just inside. The kitchen light was on. We never kept that light on.
“Hello?” I walked inside and spotted Mason locking the back door. “Hey. What are you doing up?” I smiled again. “Had a fight with the wife?”
He scowled, scratching the top of his head as he walked past me to the hallway. “No, you asshole. I had to pick up Nate.”
“Nate…” My voice trailed off, and I took in how my brother was dressed: Sweatshirt. Sweatpants. Bags under his eyes, his hair slightly messed up, and tired lines around his mouth—well, fuck. “I forgot him at the party, didn’t I?” I looked around, but no one had come in behind Mason. “Where is he?”
“Yeah. You left him. I dropped him off at the hotel.”
I groaned, grabbing on to the back of my neck. That was even worse. “His parents are in town.” The pieces were coming back to me. Nate hadn’t wanted to go to the party. But I did, so I talked him into it with the promise that we’d only be gone a few hours. His parents were arriving tonight—make that last night. “They were going to be jet-lagged, so he wanted to stay up and surprise them at the hotel. Shit. Shit. Shit.”
Mason shook his head. “I hope the chick was worth it.”
“The chick?” That’s what they thought. I left him to have sex. I shook my head. “I’m not that shallow. I mean, come on.”
Mason stood half in the dark hallway now, half still in the kitchen’s light. His face was masked with shadows, but I caught the grin. “You didn’t leave the party because of some girl?”
“I did, but—”
He snorted a laugh.
That was it.
I was lonely. Good God. How pathetic.
Logan pulled back into the street and headed to the next intersection. “Now that I feel all close to you, you’re stuck with me,” he announced. “I’m hungry. You’re going to keep me company.” He rubbed his flat stomach. “The taco place by my house doesn’t close for another half hour.”
LOGAN
I whistled as I locked my car and headed for the house, bag of food in one hand and keys tossed in the air with the other.
I’d been at a party. Texted Hot Girl, picked her up for a random adventure, and now I was home after dropping her off. It was a few minutes till four in the morning on a Monday night, but this was college. This was life. This was what I was supposed to be doing: staying out, going where I wanted—not sleeping a solid eight hours a night and being wifed up.
Nothing against my brother’s girlfriend, but the writing was on the wall. Mason and Sam had been through too much at an early age; they were going to be together forever. And that was the kicker. I don’t even think they cared. They probably relished the idea of being only in each other’s arms for the rest of their ninety years. I wasn’t giving them an extra ten. Shit, Sam might endure that long—who knew if all that running she did was good for her body or was slowly killing her.
Nah, I guessed she’d tucker out around eighty-nine. My big brother? Seventy-five, and that was being generous. He was too cold, calculating, and disciplined. He’ll have been under too much stress to make it longer than that.
Me, on the other hand, a solid eighty-three. And a horny eighty-three, too. I’d be doing the same shit as now. I’d get my tacos delivered to me in an old folks’ home, preferably by some young thing. The idea had merit. I grinned as I headed inside, thinking of the sponge baths.
I stopped just inside. The kitchen light was on. We never kept that light on.
“Hello?” I walked inside and spotted Mason locking the back door. “Hey. What are you doing up?” I smiled again. “Had a fight with the wife?”
He scowled, scratching the top of his head as he walked past me to the hallway. “No, you asshole. I had to pick up Nate.”
“Nate…” My voice trailed off, and I took in how my brother was dressed: Sweatshirt. Sweatpants. Bags under his eyes, his hair slightly messed up, and tired lines around his mouth—well, fuck. “I forgot him at the party, didn’t I?” I looked around, but no one had come in behind Mason. “Where is he?”
“Yeah. You left him. I dropped him off at the hotel.”
I groaned, grabbing on to the back of my neck. That was even worse. “His parents are in town.” The pieces were coming back to me. Nate hadn’t wanted to go to the party. But I did, so I talked him into it with the promise that we’d only be gone a few hours. His parents were arriving tonight—make that last night. “They were going to be jet-lagged, so he wanted to stay up and surprise them at the hotel. Shit. Shit. Shit.”
Mason shook his head. “I hope the chick was worth it.”
“The chick?” That’s what they thought. I left him to have sex. I shook my head. “I’m not that shallow. I mean, come on.”
Mason stood half in the dark hallway now, half still in the kitchen’s light. His face was masked with shadows, but I caught the grin. “You didn’t leave the party because of some girl?”
“I did, but—”
He snorted a laugh.
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