Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Lukas
Waverly Fucking Mcleod. Fuck.
The heels of my hands dig into my eyes and twist, yet the motion doesn’t relieve any of my frustration. I guess, logically, I should've been preparing to see her. But Angie’s wedding isn't for another two months. I thought I had more time.
This is what I get for not asking my half sister follow-up questions. “Oh, you have a friend who needs a cover-up? What is the tattoo of? Where is it? And who is this friend I have to put my hands all over? Ohhh, it's the girl who ghosted me five years ago? The one I’ve been pining over ever since? No thanks, sis. Kindly tell her to go fuck herself and her hideous tattoo.” Well, not really, but …
Now I’m forced to be near her again, with my hand torturously close to her ass, for three freaking hours. And, I can’t even call it a tattoo. I should hunt down whatever hack defiled her body out of principle alone.
Nothing about Waverly makes my life easy.
Every summer from the age of twelve to twenty-three, she hovered around me like a bumble bee.
Waverly spent most of her time with Angie—all four seasons. I was the one who would show up in the summer and invade their space. She was more a part of the family than I ever was.
My first few summers on the East Coast, I didn't mind hanging around her and Angie. Adam was away at baseball camp most of the time, so I was left with the girls. I remember being worried they’d only want to do girl things, whatever the hell that meant.
It should’ve been easier as she got older. But, no. Every time I looked, there she was, hovering. Over the years, Waverly changed. And when I started to realize she was perfect for me, I opted to stay away from her.
Fuck.
I plop into my desk chair, sitting back, letting the momentum spin me a little. I exhale long and hard. I’ve got to do this. I'm a grown-ass man with a successful business. It’s one more session and a wedding. Then she'll be gone and life will make sense again.I need to stay away from her. Easy. Maybe I should bring a date to the wedding? Perfect. Problem solved.
The alarm chimes on my phone and a sigh escapes me. If I don't get moving, I’ll be late. Payroll is done. I've got a few things to restock waiting in my Amazon cart. A quick tap of the check-out button and I can leave for the day without boss guilt.
I push my hands against my desk, sending the executive chair rolling back. Neither of them fit the overall vibe of the shop. Big, classic, and carved from cherrywood, something right out of a movie. I wouldn’t change them for anything in the world. They belonged to my grandfather and then my dad. They're the only true family heirlooms I have left.
Ten minutes later, I walk into the bar. Sticky floor, shit music, and the stink of stale beer. This place used to be cool. I can’t tell if it got lame or if it’s me. There are bodies, not people, in my way. In the back corner, at a high-top table, Darren’s head hangs low, engrossed in his cellphone. I consider it a success, I only brush against three bodies on my mission to get to the table. Darren looks up from his phone and gives me a fist bump. “Hey, man.”
“Hey.”
“Kyle texted. He'll be here in five.”
There’s no point in looking at the paper menu, I get heartburn every time I eat here. Another piece of evidence I'm getting old.
A waitress in a tight black shirt bounces over for my order. “Whatever beer’s on tap.” I don't care.
She leaves a little less enthusiastic. I’ll have to give her a decent tip. It’ll be my “sorry I’m a douche” fee.
Darren snorts. “What's got you all pissy?”
I would say nothing, but he’ll see right through it. “Work.” It’s not a lie.
He doesn't ask any follow up questions because Kyle arrives to take the empty seat. If Darren’s quiet and introspective, Kyle’s the polar opposite—loud, outgoing, and sort of terrible at reading the room. He's bouncing, his foot kicking the table a testament to too much pent-up energy. “Thanks for coming, Lukas,” he says.
“Angie's calling in all her favors today,” I grumble.
It's not that I don't like Kyle. He’s a decent guy. He's perfect for my half sister, having been in love with her since college. He's also great about making sure Angie gets the spotlight she deserves.
“I'll get right to the point, otherwise I won't be able to focus on anything else.”
“Not even the Knights of the Night mid-season finale?” Darren says, reaching for his beer.
Kyle shakes his head like it might fall off. “No. Got to do this now.” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them, his intent is clear. “Your mom wants one of her sons to be a groomsman.”
“Why?”
“It’ll even out the photos.” He waves his hand like the reason doesn't matter. “Whatever. If it makes Angie happy, I don't care.” He clears his throat and stands, then blows out a loud breath before making entirely too-direct eye contact with me. People a few tables over are staring “So will you stand as a groomsman?”
I glance over to Darren who’s watching me, his lips curling into a wicked grin. He knows something.
“Why not Adam?” He’s the logical choice. After all, Adam’s the golden boy. He's Angie's twin. Plus, he didn’t live on the other side of the country for ten months a year.
When Kyle hears Adam’s name, he closes his eyes for a minute and tries to shake the tension out of his shoulders. He’s clenching and unclenching his fists on repeat, and I’m waiting to see who he’s about to punch. I’ve never seen him wound up before.
“I fucking hate Adam,” he finally grits out through his teeth.
Oh. Kyle just got a billion times cooler. Darren kicks me under the table, wiggling his eyebrows.
“He's boring and rude and walks around like he's better than everyone else, because he's woefully unaware of the stench of evil he wafts.”
Yes. I agree with all of these statements.
Kyle scrubs his face and concludes his assessment with, “I hate Adam as much as I love Angie. He gaslights every woman in his life. He’s bullshit and lies.”
“Well, when you say things like that, it's hard to say no. What do I need to do?”
Darren shakes his head. “Come to the rehearsal and the wedding.”
Well, I had to go anyway. I already had to cancel an appointment with a client to attend this stupid wedding. The real bonus is that it will drive Adam nuts because he wasn't picked. “Sure, I’m in.”
Darren exhales. “Praise Jesus. I was already getting panic attacks about having to eat with him.” And when I think the conversation is over, he adds, “Sucks for Waverly, though.”
My stomach knots. How could he possibly know about Waverly? “What do you mean?”
Now they both look at me like I'm crazy. “She's been dating Adam for the last three years.”
They continue to talk, but none of their words are making it to my brain. Only rage and confusion. I thought Waverly couldn't hurt me any more than she already has.
Turns out she's fucking my brother.