Chapter 15
Jacob
I tug at the collar of my button-up shirt, feeling like I’m wearing a costume.
The Rusty Anchor buzzes around us, busy for a Wednesday night.
Bobby Shepard sits across from me, sipping some orange concoction that looks radioactive under the bar lights, studying me with eyes that remind me of Riley’s—too fucking perceptive.
Two weeks into dating his brother, and this is our first official meet-up. No pressure.
“You know, you can relax,” Bobby says, stirring his drink with a skinny straw. “I don’t bite.”
“I’m not nervous,” I lie, taking a swig of my beer to avoid his gaze.
Bobby laughs, the sound light and nothing like Riley’s more controlled chuckle. “Sure, and I’m not judging your shirt choice right now.”
I glance down at my dark blue button-up. “What’s wrong with my shirt?”
“Nothing, if you’re attending a parent-teacher conference.” He winks, taking the sting out of his words. “But it’s cute that you dressed up to meet me.”
I grunt, unsure how to respond to this version of Riley—all flash and no filter.
Bobby’s nothing like his brother on the surface.
Where Riley is understated class, Bobby is deliberate spectacle.
His vintage rock band t-shirt is artfully torn and paired with a leather jacket covered in patches.
At least five necklaces of varying lengths hang around his neck, and his fingers glitter with rings.
“Riley’s running late,” I say, glancing at my phone again. “He got pulled into a consult.”
“Typical.” Bobby rolls his eyes, but there’s fondness in his voice. “My brother would be late to his own funeral because someone needed their knee rebuilt.”
A silence falls between us, not exactly uncomfortable but not easy either. I take another swig of beer, searching for something to say that won’t make me sound like a total meathead.
Bobby saves me the trouble. He sets down his orange drink and leans forward, his expression suddenly serious. “So, Mountain Man, I think it’s time we had a talk.”
My spine stiffens. “A talk?”
“Yes, a talk.” He folds his hands on the table. “About my brother.”
“What about him?”
Bobby’s eyes narrow, and for a second, he looks exactly like Riley when he’s about to put me in my place.
“Riley’s brilliant, successful, and kind, but he’s also a fucking disaster when it comes to relationships.
He puts everyone else first, works himself to death, and bottles up everything until he explodes.
” He pauses, studying my face. “And now here you are. A literal fighter who looks like you could bench press my car.”
I raise an eyebrow, unsure where this is going.
“I’m just saying, if you’re playing around, if this is some experiment or phase for you, walk away now. Because if you hurt him, I will hunt you down and make you regret it.”
I nearly choke on my beer. “You’ll what?”
“Don’t look so shocked. I may not have your muscles, but I know people.” He smiles sweetly. “People with knives.”
Despite myself, I laugh. “Got it. Hurt Riley, get stabbed.”
Bobby shrugs, sipping his drink. “More or less.”
“Look,” I lean forward, matching his serious tone. “I’m not playing around. What Riley and I have… it’s real. I’ve never felt this way before.” The sincerity in my voice surprises even me. “I won’t hurt him.”
Bobby studies me for a long moment, then nods, apparently satisfied. “Good. Because I’ve never seen him like this over anyone. Not even Renata back in the day.”
My chest tightens at the mention of Renata. I know there’s nothing there anymore. I’ve seen how Riley looks at me versus how he looks at her. But it still sparks something possessive in me.
“So…” Bobby’s expression shifts to gleeful curiosity. “How the hell did my buttoned-up brother end up with someone like you? No offense, but you’re not exactly his usual type.”
“What’s his usual type?”
“Boring,” Bobby says bluntly. “Safe. People who match his whole controlled vibe. Well, except for Renata, but even she couldn’t shake him up like this. Then here you come, all…” He waves his hand vaguely at my everything. “Like this. A walking fight poster. How’d you tame the Brickhouse?”
I smirk, unable to help myself. “Who says he tamed me?”
Bobby raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t he?”
“Maybe,” I concede, lowering my voice, “he knows how to handle me.”
Understanding dawns on Bobby’s face, followed by a theatrical grimace. “Oh my god, no details. That’s my brother you’re talking about.”
“You asked.”
“And I immediately regret it.” He downs half his drink in one go. “Let’s change the subject before I have to bleach my brain.”
I chuckle, relaxing for the first time since we sat down. “Fine by me.”
Bobby tilts his head, studying me again. “So, you know what I do for work, right?”
“Riley mentioned something about OnlyFriends.” I try to keep my expression neutral. “You make videos?”
“That’s one way to put it.” Bobby grins. “I make content. Videos, photos, live streams, personal messages, custom requests. I’ve got an online persona that people like to connect with. They want to see all kinds of content, not just the spicy stuff. Though, yeah, spicy too.”
I shrug. “Sounds like a decent gig.”
“Really? That’s your reaction?” Bobby looks surprised. “Most people get weird about it.”
“I punch people for a living,” I remind him. “Not gonna judge how you pay your bills.”
“It’s more than bills,” Bobby says, spinning one of his rings. “I live pretty well, actually. Way better than some office job killing my soul nine to five.”
“Can’t argue with that.” I raise my beer in salute.
Bobby raises his glass in return, and we both drink.
As I set my beer down, my attention is drawn to a group at the pool tables.
Two men and two women, all mid-twenties to early thirties, laughing over beers and a game.
One of the men—tall, with glasses and a serious face that softens when he smiles—keeps glancing our way. More specifically, at Bobby.
Bobby follows my gaze and quickly averts his eyes when he realizes who I’m looking at.
“You know them?”
“Just one of them. Kind of. Not really.” Bobby looks flustered for the first time tonight.
“Kind of, not really?” I raise an eyebrow. “That sounds complicated.”
“It’s nothing.” Bobby sighs. “Forget about it.”
As if summoned by our attention, the man with the glasses excuses himself from his group and makes his way to our table. Up close, he’s more attractive than I initially thought—not in a flashy way like Bobby, but solid, dependable, with sharp eyes behind those glasses.
“Hey, Bobby,” the man says. “Didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
“Eddie! Hi!” Bobby’s voice jumps half an octave. “Yeah, just hanging out, waiting for my brother.”
Eddie’s eyes shift to me, openly curious. “And you are…?”
“Jacob,” I offer, extending a hand, which he shakes firmly.
“Eddie Morgan,” he says. “You a friend of Bobby’s?”
“You could say so. I’m dating his brother.”
“Oh.” Eddie’s shoulders visibly relax. “Riley, right? I think we met here once.”
“Right,” Bobby confirms, his cheeks flushing pink.
Eddie nods, glancing between us. “That’s… great.” He shifts his weight, seeming unsure what else to say. “So, Bobby, are we still on for Saturday for the… thing?”
Bobby blinks. “Thing?”
“Yeah, you know… the thing we discussed.”
“Oh! Right! The thing. Um, yeah, we’re still on for that.”
I watch this exchange with growing interest. I have no idea what they’re talking about, but Eddie’s clearly fishing for conversation, and Bobby’s clearly enjoying the attention. There’s something happening here, which is so fascinating to watch. Like a train wreck.
“Great, well, I’ll text you about the time on Friday, if that’s okay.”
“Yes! That’d be great.”
Before Eddie can say anything else, the door to the bar swings open, and my entire focus shifts.
Riley walks in, scanning the room until his eyes find me.
He’s still in his work clothes minus the white coat—dark slacks and a blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. My pulse quickens just looking at him.
He spots us and makes his way over, sliding into the booth next to me. “Sorry I’m late,” he says, dropping a quick kiss on my lips. “Procedure ran long.”
“Everyone survive?” I ask, resting my hand on his thigh under the table.
“They did.” Riley notices Eddie standing there. “Hi there. Eddie, right?”
Eddie nods. “Yeah, good to see you again.”
Riley’s eyes dart from Eddie to Bobby’s flushed face and back again. “You too.”
An awkward silence falls. Eddie breaks it first, gesturing back to his friends. “I should get back to my game. But, uh, Bobby—I’ll text you about that thing we discussed. See you around.”
“Definitely,” Bobby breathes.
Eddie gives us all a nod before heading back to the pool tables. Once he’s out of earshot, Riley turns to Bobby with raised eyebrows. “What was that about?”
“What?” Bobby attempts innocence. “We’re just friendly.”
“Mmhmm.” Riley doesn’t sound convinced. “Then why are you blushing?”
“It’s just hot in here,” Bobby says and stands abruptly. “I need to use the bathroom.” He points at Riley. “Don’t say a word until I get back.”
As Bobby disappears toward the restrooms, Riley turns to me, a smile playing at his lips. “So, how’s it going with my brother?”
“Good,” I say honestly. “He’s cool.”
Riley looks surprised. “Really? Most people find him overwhelming at first.”
“He threatened to have me stabbed if I hurt you.”
Riley chokes on the sip of my beer he’d just stolen. “He what?”
“It’s fine. I respect it, actually.” I squeeze his thigh. “Shows he cares about you.”
Riley shakes his head, but there’s fondness in his eyes. “Bobby’s always been… protective, in his way.” He studies my face. “But you really like him?”
“I do,” I assure him. “He’s nothing like you on the surface, but underneath? You’re definitely brothers.”
Riley relaxes against me, his shoulder pressed to mine. “Good. Because it’s important that you two get along.” His voice softens. “You’re both important to me.”
I turn to look at him properly, taking in the sharp line of his jaw, the tired shadows under his eyes from a long day of saving people, the way he looks at me like I’m something cherished instead of something dangerous. “What are you saying, doctor? That you like me?”
Riley’s hand finds mine under the table, fingers intertwining. Then he leans forward and kisses me. Not a quick peck like when he arrived, but deep and claiming, right there in the middle of the bar. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark.
“I really do,” he murmurs against my lips.
Something blooms in my chest, warm and expanding. A few weeks ago, I never would have imagined being here, being this version of myself. The man capable of gentleness, of love.
Because that’s what this is, I realize with sudden clarity.
I love him. I love Riley Shepard with his steady hands and unshakable calm, his ability to see through my walls, and his willingness to meet me exactly where I am.
For the first time in my life, I’ve found someone who doesn’t want me to be smaller, quieter, less.
Someone who sees all of me and stays anyway.
I don’t say it out loud. Not yet. But I think he already knows.