Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
SEBASTIAN
The drive to Charlie, Link, and Trey’s place doesn’t take long. Charlie works remotely so the trio bought a ridiculously overpriced house about five minutes outside of Lakeside, which has a stunning view of Mount Baker when it’s not foggy or overcast.
Charlie mentioned that Marcus will be here, which surprises me.
Not because I don’t think our brother would want to come, but he’s such a workaholic that it’s hard to pull him away for anything that resembles fun.
Even more curious, I was told he’s bringing someone, though whether that person is a date or a friend, I have no idea.
Knowing Marcus, it’s probably our Seattle admin so he can work when he should be socializing.
When I questioned Charlie about who it was, she just shrugged and said she hadn’t asked.
We pull up the long gravel driveway, and a cute little craftsman-style home comes into view. It’s not a mansion by any means, but the five acres of land is probably what upped the price tag.
I’m sitting in the middle row of this beast of a car between Fi and Charlie. Michaels tried to sit with us, but Lincoln banished him to the second row like a toddler, so now he’s sulking like, well, a toddler. I glance back at him and smile at the way he’s pouting while he stares out the window.
All jokes aside, I understand why Lincoln is so angry, but I also intimately understand Michaels’s need to be a people pleaser, so Link’s ire is rough on him. I slide one hand back between the door and the seat and squeeze his knee. He gives me a half-hearted smile.
When the vehicle comes to a stop, we all pile out and walk to the house.
“You can just go in,” Charlie says. “John is visiting us, so the door is unlocked.”
We walk through the foyer, pausing to remove our shoes and coats, and walk into the kitchen-slash-living room.
The vaulted ceilings, warm hardwoods, and sleek, black appliances haven’t changed much since I visited at Christmas, other than the absence of decorations.
A large overstuffed sofa squats in front of a mini-cinema screen, which isn’t surprising given how much Charlie and the guys love movies.
The tall windows framed by heavy blackout curtains face the back side of the property, which, in its current state, resembles the misty moors from Pride and Prejudice.
An older man dressed in flannel and dark jeans is standing in front of the television staring down at the remote with a perplexed expression. He glances up when we enter and smiles widely, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He could be Lincoln’s older twin except for his mustache.
“Sebastian! Fiona! Really good to see you.” John Evans steps forward and shakes my hand firmly before pulling me into a hug. Then he squeezes Fi, affectionately tousling her hair as he pulls away.
After Charlie started at Whitmore U, she found her own little band of misfit orphans, so we’re all drawn to John since none of us have real role models.
Lincoln’s father is pretty much the only parental figure in any of our lives who’s not dead or a piece of shit.
He’s taken on the group’s dad role enthusiastically.
John’s eyebrows rise. “And Brantley? It’s been a long time, son,” he says, but I see him give Lincoln a furtive glance.
Lincoln just rolls his eyes and cuts a grumpy look at Fi, who smiles sweetly.
“I followed your whole career with the Canucks,” John continues.
“Despite your accident, you should be really proud. You have amazing stats.”
Michaels’s eyes light up at the compliment, and given what I know about his relationship with his father, the praise is probably an unusual occurrence.
“Thank you, Mr. Evans,” he says, his fingers tracing the scar on his neck unconsciously.
“Please, call me John. Mr. Evans was Captain America,” he says with a wink, and Fiona snorts a laugh.
“Jesus Christ, Dad.” Lincoln grimaces. “Do you have to start the dad jokes before we’ve even begun drinking?”
“Sit!” Charlie says enthusiastically while simultaneously giving Lincoln a disapproving look. “I’ll pour the drinks.”
John takes a seat on the couch, and Michaels and Fi join him. I wander into the kitchen to help Charlie.
“Do you know Brantley’s drink of choice?” she asks as she sets out some crystal glasses.
“Light lager or vodka,” I say immediately.
Charlie glances at me sideways. “You said that fast.”
I shrug. “He just…used to come into the pub a lot. I know a lot about all my regulars.”
This relationship with Fi and Michaels isn’t really defined yet, so I haven’t actually mentioned it to anyone, even my stepsister.
Charlie seems to accept that answer. I’m just about to start handing out drinks when Marcus walks through the door.
My brother and I share dark brown hair, but that’s about it.
He’s over six feet tall with broad shoulders, chocolate-brown eyes, which look tired right now, and a healthy growth of stubble lining his sharp jaw.
He smiles tightly and waves when everyone gives him a chorus of cheerful hellos.
Crowds aren’t really Marcus’s mug of beer (a phrase we coined running the pub together), but he tolerates them for Charlie.
When he steps to the side, I’m surprised to see the man behind him.
He’s a whole head shorter than Marcus with a lean, muscular frame. His hair is so blond that it practically glows silver, and his eyes are the most stunning shade of turquoise I’ve ever seen. He looks so familiar…
“Jeremy?”
I glance over at Trey, who’s sitting on the couch with his arm slung around Link.
Charlie looks up from the gin drink she’s making, and she misses the glass entirely, spilling it onto the gray marble countertop.
Jeremy folds his arms over his chest and gives Trey a smirk. “Trey Walker, as I live and breathe.”
Trey jumps up and the two give each other one of those weird bro hugs. I don’t miss the way Lincoln narrows his eyes.
Charlie ignores her mess and runs over to throw her arms around her guest. “Jeremy, I didn’t know you and Marcus are friends. What a small world!”
“Hey, Kitty,” he says with a chuckle, hugging her back. “Small world, indeed.”
Then I remember where I’ve seen him. “You were a grade ahead of me at Washington Prep, right?” I blurt, snapping my fingers. “That’s why you look so familiar. Didn’t you and Trey date? I think I saw you guys at some mutual parties…” I glance at Link.
Jeremy purses his lips. “‘Date’ is a strong word. We sucked and fucked, but I don’t think we ever went on a date, did we, babe?” Jeremy asks Trey, who shakes his head with a laugh. “And don’t give me that jealous boyfriend glare, Lincoln Evans. I know what your cock tastes like too.”
Lincoln opens his mouth for a retort but then closes it, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.
Marcus gives Jeremy a dark look.
Interesting.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that.” John sticks out his hand in Jeremy’s direction. “John Evans, Lincoln’s dad.”
“Mmm,” Jeremy says, shaking John’s hand with a wide smile, “I see where Link gets his mouthwatering looks.”
“For fuck’s sake.” This time, Marcus doesn’t hide the glare he directs at Jeremy, who gives him a dramatic eye roll. Marcus glances between Trey and Charlie. “You all went to high school together?” He gives Jeremy an accusatory look. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“We went to high school in the same town, not the same school.” Jeremy shrugs. “And it never came up.”
“How do you guys know each other?” I interrupt.
“Oh.” The tips of Marcus’s ears turn pink. “He’s…our interior decorator for the Seattle pub.”
“Uh, yeah, I’m your…decorator.” Frustration flitters across Jeremy’s features, but it’s gone so quickly, I’m not sure I saw it. “You must be Sebastian.”
“That’s me.” I look at Marcus, raising my eyebrows. “You brought our decorator with you?”
When Marcus doesn’t say anything, Jeremy gives him an exasperated look. “I was free this weekend, so I brought some designs with me to show you. Marcus felt like he wouldn’t be able to explain them well.” Jeremy looks at Charlie. “I hope that’s okay. I don’t mean to crash the party.”
“Are you kidding?” Charlie says. She’s back in the kitchen finishing up drink mixing. “You’re always welcome, Jeremy.”
We all go back to chatting, but I can’t help watching Marcus and Jeremy interact. It feels like there’s a lot of tension between them, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say—
The doorbell startles me out of my thoughts, and Trey jumps up, rubbing his hands together. “Pizza time.”
I’m about four drinks in, and I switched to something fruity with vodka after my first because Jeremy makes delicious—whatever this is. It’s red.
We’re all sitting around a huge table made from some sort of beautiful oak wood, stained in a way that brings out the warm brown colors with what Jeremy called live edges. I finger the smooth, raw-looking finish.
“You okay?” Fi asks quietly, reaching for my hand.
I watch her small palm overlap mine and smile stupidly at the contact.
I look up, taken by her deep emerald eyes and the dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
Her hair is a sexy mess of loose curls, and she smells like something flowery and fruity.
It’s making my dick hard.
I look at Michaels, who’s sitting across the table from us, smiling ear to ear while he talks with Charlie.
Every once in a while, his foot grazes mine, and it reminds me of our day in Flurry when I realized that I want him just as much as I want Fi.
He glances at me, his hazel eyes twinkling, and he winks.
And now my dick’s even harder.
“Right, Seb?”
“What?” I look over at my stepsister, who’s giving me a knowing smile. Michaels is staring at me expectantly too, but his look is more curious. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” I must be drunker than I thought because the room has quieted like everyone is waiting for my answer.