34. Epilogue
Luke
One Month Later
I ’ve got to admit, I’ve never understood the point behind engagement parties. Why host a party just to announce an engagement? After all, it seems like a pretty straightforward concept to me.
Hey guys, I’m engaged. No, no—I’m with the older brother now.
Okay, that does make me sound bitter. But for the most part, I’ve accepted the way things have played out. It’s hard not to when I see how happy they make each other. I take another sip of my Jack and Coke, pulling at the neckline of my stifling dress shirt as I take in the people mingling amongst one another in Jax’s back yard. Every now and then, someone sends me a pitying look.
I roll my eyes.
“Gotta admit, I’m surprised you came tonight.”
Gritting my teeth, I turn towards Paige. Thankfully, her voice isn’t overly smug or full of pity. She says it in that strait-laced, matter-of-fact way of hers. I eye her outfit, not accustomed to seeing her in anything other than a work uniform. How have I never noticed how hot she is? The black top of her dress has a plunging V-line that shows off the slopes of her breasts while the black, flowing skirt is covered in red roses. Her feet are in some kind of heeled boots, her black hair tipped in its customary purple streaks, loose and flowing down her back. Her nose ring glistens under the fading sunlight. Her arms are bare, showing off the ink that covers nearly every inch of them.
I snort. “Trust me, no one is more surprised than me.” Once again, I don’t mean to sound bitter. But Jax and Maddison live in a small town, and these people are reluctant to forget good gossip. And when Maddison broke up with me only to step out on Jax’s arm a few months later? The old biddies in the town were shooketh.
Well, except for Mary. That woman is the least judgmental person I’ve ever met. She tries to act all loving and nurturing, but I think she has a wild streak she never grew out of.
Honestly, good for her.
“Hmm.” Paige isn’t one to be super chatty, but that’s okay.
I peer over at her, watching as she gazes out at the crowd. People are dancing, hips gyrating to some upbeat music under the low glow of fairy lights on a makeshift dance floor. To the right, there’s a table covered in a white cloth laden with snacks and drinks. Passed that, groups of people play cornhole and ring toss.
“This is actually not a shabby party,” I say aloud. Paige eyes me skeptically. She hasn’t always been my biggest fan, but I haven’t given people much reason to like me lately.
“What is he up to now?” Paige mumbles. I follow her gaze, watching as Andrew ambles over to the stereo speakers. He glances around furtively, his lips quirking.
“Always up to no good, that one,” I say, chuckling.
“I better stop him,” she says.
I halt her steps with a gentle hand on her elbow and shake my head. “Nah. Let’s see how this plays out. I’m curious.” I watch, amused, as Andrew plugs his phone into a USB slot.
“Are you sure? Because—”
Andrew bounces on the heels of his feet, looking smug as the beats of a classic rock song begin playing. I freeze, my drink half-way to my lips as I recognize the song. Conversations halt, heads swiveling between me and Jax as Rick Springfield’s “Jessie’s Girl” plays. Jax, who is standing near the food table next to Maddison, fumbles the plate of food in his hands. Maddison puts a steadying hand under the plate, preventing him from dropping it. Jax’s head whips around, locking eyes with me. Everybody seems to be holding their breath.
“Too soon?” Andrew asks.
My lips twitch, and then I’m laughing. Jax throws his head back in his own laughter, his guffaw deep and throaty as his shoulders shake with it. Somehow, that only makes me laugh even harder, and I clutch my stomach. There’s a quiet splattering of chuckles throughout the rest of the crowd, everybody seeming to relax at once.
Once Jax calms down, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wallet. I watch as he marches towards Andrew, stuffing a wad of cash into his hands before playfully slugging him on the shoulder. Andrew whoops and does a celebratory victory dance.
“Wonder what that was about,” I muse.
“You don’t want to know,” Paige mutters dryly.
Jax ambles back towards Maddie, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his side. The song changes to something slow and sweet, and he leads her onto the makeshift dance floor. They sway together, her hands looping around his neck. The entire time, his eyes are on hers. She returns his gaze with a soft expression.
A pang of jealousy ripples through me, and I clench my jaw as I look away. Not because I miss her or still harbor any feelings towards her. She was right to say that we didn’t fit together anymore. But because I never made her look that happy, or that in love. Actually, I’ve never made anybody look at me like that.
And I think maybe it’s because I don’t deserve it.
And if Jax knew what I was keeping from him, I think those brotherly looks of warm affection he’s been sending my way would turn into contempt. I clear my throat, pulling at the neckline of my dress shirt again. I don’t want to think about that right now.
“Hey, is everything okay?” Paige’s voice is soft, concerned.
I hate it.
Peering over at her, I let my eyes trail down her body and make sure to spend extra time leering at her chest. “Not really. You wanna fuck it out with me?”
She curls her lips in derision, her eyes lighting with anger. I’m such an asshole. We were actually getting along for once. Why do I set myself up this way?
“Wrong equipment, buddy,” she snaps. “I don’t swing that way.”
My eyebrows arch, watching as she walks away. I’m not all surprised when she glares at me over her shoulder one last time.
“So, is that a no on the fucking then?” I call. I laugh when she flips me the bird and strides away.
Still, I do feel a smidge of guilt.
I have been doing better, being more conscious of my words and actions. But watching my brother and ex-girlfriend act lovey-dovey brings out the worst in me.
“Hey man, what’s up!” A large hand slaps me over my shoulder, and I look up from my drink into Caleb’s grinning face. I grin back, genuine happily to see my best friend as I return his shoulder slap.
“Hey! Jax said he invited you, but I wasn’t sure if you would be able to make it or not,” I greet him.
He shrugs, running a hand through his dark brown hair. It’s trimmed on the sides but thicker on top, with a large lock that flops over onto his forehead. He’s wearing a sharp-looking, navy polo tucked into black jeans with dress shoes.
“I heard this party was the place to be this weekend.”
I nod, taking another sip of my drink as my eyes roam over the crowd in front of us. In the distance, june bugs chirp a symphony.
“So, how’s it goin’?” Even though I see him almost every week, he always asks me this question. That’s just how he is, always checking in with people and finding minute ways to show that he cares. It’s a casual question without being overly nosy, and I appreciate it.
“I think I’m going back to school,” I admit. He’s the first person I’ve told. It feels weird to even say it. I was never a serious student, my grades barely scraping by before I had to drop out. I don’t like to think about that time though. I know Maddison and Jax think I dropped out to party and that I didn’t care about school anymore. That couldn’t be further from the truth, but that’s not their fault because I’ve let them think that.
The alternative is telling them what really happened.
Although part of me wishes somebody would see the truth. That I’m not the irresponsible, immature party-loving dude everyone thinks I am.
“Really! Dude, that’s awesome!” Caleb’s smile is encouraging, and he looks like he’s going to follow up his statement with a question. As I open my mouth to tell him how I want to finish the degree I started, something snags his attention. He waves at somebody across the crowd, beckoning them to come over.
“Hey, looks like my dad made it. I want you to meet him.” In all the years I’ve known Caleb, I’ve never met his dad. I know very little about him, other than the fact that he owns a graphic design company. Caleb has mentioned he wishes his dad would slow down, take more time away from his desk and the gym, but I know he looks up to him.
I can’t help but wonder what that’s like, having a living parent that you get along with. Admire even.
“Hey Dad, this is Luke.”
I tune out whatever else Caleb is saying, my mouth going dry as I stare at the bear of a man in front of me. His shoulders are broad, his body rippling with muscles. His jaw is sharp, his icy-blue eyes unblinking as he takes me in. He has a thick head of black hair, but his face is kept smoothly shaven. If I had a jaw like that, I wouldn’t cover it up with a beard either. He’s wearing a white dress shirt like mine, but the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. It exposes his corded forearms and skin that looks sun-kissed. There’s the barest hint of salt- and-pepper coloring around his temples and the beginnings of laugh lines around his eyes.
He’s attractive. Objectively speaking, of course.
A straight man can admire another man without it being weird, right?
“Luke, this is my dad, Alek.”
I immediately memorize his name, deciding I like the way it sounds in my head. Alek gives me a polite smile, and my eyes snag on a pair of lips that look firm. He holds his hand out in the universal gesture for a handshake, and I do the same. When our palms connect, I suck in a silent breath. His large hand swallows mine up, the smooth skin feeling warm and soft. His handshake is firm and, for some reason, I wonder if that’s how he holds his dick when he’s touching himself.
Fuck. Why am I thinking about that?
He’s my best friend’s dad. I’m pretty sure there’s an unspoken rule that says I shouldn’t be thinking about him this way.
Or any man this way, since I’m straight.
Our introduction is kept brief, short, and to the point. His low, serious brogue seems to rumble from deep within his chest. It sends goosebumps along my arms, and I imagine him standing in front of a boardroom meeting with a voice like that. Or in a darkened room, leaning over a lover while he whispers in their ear.
Slowly ambling over towards the snack table, I pour myself another drink. I stare down at my hand, flexing it as I try to forget the way his palm felt in mine. I spend the rest of the party admiring the way he moves, trying to listen into his polite conversations as he speaks with different partygoers. Every now and then, I swear his eyes flit over to mine.
Each time, I quickly look away.
At one point, I look back only to catch him staring at me. His eyes darken as they roam down my body, and my skin heats with the intensity of his gaze. When his eyes come back up to lock with mine, he doesn’t tear his gaze away like I expect. No, he doesn’t look embarrassed that I’ve caught him checking me out. He holds my stare, looking completely unapologetic as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. My dick twitches in my pants, threatening to stir to life. I bite my bottom lip instinctively, and the bastard smirks at me.
I am so fucked.