38. Grunts And Flying Fists
THIRTY-EIGHT
GRUNTS AND FLYING FISTS
Eve
Over the past month, I’ve given Jake the silent treatment, which is much easier for him since his style of communication mostly consists of grunts and flying fists. Needless to say, I’m the talker out of the two of us, and I’m ready to spew all the words at him. I’m on the opposite side of the kitchen, leaning my butt against the counter, shooting eye bullets at Jake over the rim of my mug. His large frame makes the small round table look like it belongs in a dollhouse. The rustle of a newspaper fills the kitchen as he turns the page. I’ve always looked up to my brother. He was the only person who was a constant in my life for so many years. Then he wasn’t, and then I bailed. I held nothing against him. He did what he needed to do to survive, and I did the same. No more running. I’m exactly where I want to be. I place my mug on the counter and cross my arms over my chest.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.” The top of the newspaper rustles as it falls to the table. He peers up at me with his typical blank expression. While I tend to serve my emotions on a silver platter, Jake keeps his locked up tighter than a casino vault. “But I meant what I said—I’m to blame for this too, not just Lach. When we first met in Florida, we didn’t know each other. Then, when we did, the attraction was already there. We couldn’t fight it.”
“That’s not the point.”
I fling my arms into the air. “Then tell me what the point is.”
“He lied.”
“So did I! It wasn’t right, but we did it to protect you.”
The newspaper crinkles in Jake’s grip like a tin can. “Protect me from what? I don’t need protecting.”
“Protect you from getting hurt.”
He scoffs.
I dramatically wave my hands in front of me. “That’s right. I forgot. The big bad Jake doesn’t have feelings. Guess what? You proved that one wrong. You wouldn’t have punched your best friend if you didn’t care. But it was still no reason to punch him. You’re welcome to tone down the big brother act. We’re adults now.”
“I’ll always be your big brother, and I will always protect you.”
“Except when you bailed for over a year.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. Was it a low blow? Yes. I know he was dealing with his own shit, but he did abandon me when he said he wouldn’t.
“That’s not fair.”
“You’re right. It’s not. But neither is punching your best friend.” I raise a brow. All he does is continue to glower. He’s never been good with his feelings, especially since the accident. When I turned eighteen, I shouldn’t have left, but he seemed to be doing better. I needed to rise on my own two feet instead of standing behind Jake. He had the bar to run, or maybe the bar was only there to mask what was happening deep inside. I blow out a heavy breath. I need the two people I care most about to stop fighting not only for me but for each other. “Look, I get it. Lach’s your best friend, and he hurt you. I’m not innocent in all this either. But why all the hostility? Wouldn’t you want me to be with someone you trust? Who you know won’t hurt me?” Jake says nothing, so I continue. “That’s what I don’t get. And you know Lach is exactly that type of man.”
“He has his own issues to deal with.”
I roll my eyes. “Everyone has issues. Much like my older brother.”
My romance with Lach has been a whirlwind. Sure, we don’t know every single facet of each other’s lives, and we’re still getting to know each other. But he’s right. At the beginning, Lach was very hot and cold, apprehensive about us. While Jake was a big part of that, I know deep down there was more. There’s a reason their friendship runs as deep as a trench. When he’s ready, he’ll open up. He’s very guarded, much like my brother. Maybe that’s why they’re so close. But I know Lach wouldn’t go all in if he didn’t have feelings for me as well. That’s all the reassurance I need right now.
“He wants to be there for me. And I want to be there for him.” I rest my elbows on the counter and scrub my hands down my face. Sometimes it’s like talking to a brick wall. “I won’t stop seeing Lach. If you want to be in my life and your niece or nephew’s life, then you need to talk to him. Without the flying fists. Or I’ll get you some giant inflatable boxing gloves. I don’t want to choose between my brother and my boyfriend, but if I have to, I’ll pick him because he’s not making me choose. So this bullshit needs to stop. You need to realize how much better he’s made my life. And I know you miss your best friend. You’re extra grumpy, and it’s annoying.”
Jake sits in the chair in complete silence. Maybe he’s letting my words sink in. Maybe he tuned out everything I just said. I rest my hands on the counter, throwing everything out there because I give zero fucks anymore. Someone else now commands my attention. I rest a hand on my stomach. “Also, I’ll be moving out next month.” His gaze jumps to mine. “Lach found us a great townhouse, and I’ll be moving in with him.”
He nods before picking up the paper again, shoving his face between the pages. All I can do is shake my head. I will go on living my life, and he can stew in his. I have more important things to do, like packing my belongings. Again.