Chapter 14 - Isaac #2
“I’m aware. I also know you told him about us, too.”
“Sorry about that. I was kind of in shock, and it just came out.”
“I’m not upset,” I say.
“Then why are you calling?”
I rub my forehead, letting my elbow drop onto my desk. “I wanted to check on you?”
“Yeah, I just wasn’t feeling too good, but it’s not fatal or anything.”
“Are you taking tomorrow off, too?”
“I don’t know. Why do you ask? Do you need something?”
“Just wondering what to expect.”
He huffs softly. “Well, I’ll tell you what not to expect.”
I shut my eyes. I had a feeling that was where this was headed. I hazard a guess. “You’re off limits?”
“Bingo.”
“Is it because you know the other guy?” I ask, not happy with his answer even if I was expecting it.
“It’s because the other guy is Deacon,” he says with emphasis and meaning and a slight crack in his voice.
My spine pulls straight, and I push the chair away from the desk so I can lean forward. Resting my elbows on my knees I press the phone to my ear. “You like him?” I ask softly, because maybe if he answers quietly my heart won’t break quite as hard.
“Of course I do, Isaac. You’ve met him. I live with him. He’s like––perfect. So, congratulations.”
I feel like I’ve been slapped. “Evan…I didn’t fucking know.”
“And if you had?”
“Which part?” I ask, suddenly bitter beyond reason. “That he’s your roommate or that you have feelings for him?”
“Whichever.”
“I would never deliberately violate your trust or our—whatever you want to call it. Arrangement?”
“Sure,” he says flatly.
“What do you call it?”
“I call it stupid. A mistake,” he says. “A bad habit.”
I wince. “Fine. Great. So that’s it?”
“That’s it,” he says with a note of desolation in his voice that puts a pang in my heart.
He’s shown a few sparks of emotion in this conversation, but he keeps defaulting to despondent.
I’d kill for him to go off on me a little.
I love his bratty side as much as I love his flirty side and his quick brain, his tight pants and his killer smile.
But this? How he sounds so defeated? This is going to be incredibly difficult. It’s going to hurt so much.
“That’s not what I want, Evan,” I say just so he’s clear.
“No, I understand what you want. You want tall, gorgeous, perfect men with dimples. You want Deacon. And maybe the occasional under the desk BJ, but you’ll have to hire someone else to do that from now on. I think my self-respect just grew back.”
That last statement guts me. “You have no idea how much I respect you—”
“On paper. Maybe.”
Here we go. Am I the asshole because I want him to fight for me just a little?
“You stroke my ego so I’ll stroke your cock, and you want to act subtle about it, but it’s not subtle, Isaac. Newsflash. Nothing about you is subtle.”
He’s got that last part dead right. “You realize we still have to work together. That I’ll see you in the morning?”
He barks a laugh. “I can be professional. You think I can’t? That’s what we call projection.”
I press my thumb and forefinger into my eyelids and sigh. “You done?”
He hesitates a second. “Yeah. I’m done.”
“Okay, well, all I want to say is that I didn’t go into any of this to hurt you. I’m sorry if I have.”
“You? Hurt me?” He huffs and then falls silent.
I swallow hard. “It’s not me, is it?”
Across the line I hear him sniff, and it lands like an axe in my chest. “This sucks.”
His lack of an answer is answer enough. Knowing his heart was set on someone else is fucking devastating. Maybe I assumed Evan just didn’t do feelings, but he obviously does. Just not for me.
If I’d known it were possible, was there something more I could have done? Something I should have said to let him know I’ve wanted so much more from him than secret office sex?
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“You’ve said that like twenty times,” he says. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I get that.”
He takes a deep breath and blows it out. “I’m sorry, too. This is a lot, and I’m upset, and I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. You didn’t do anything wrong, and I’m really sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. And you can say whatever you need to say to me. However you need to say it.”
“I appreciate that, but still…”
“I mean it,” I say. “Thank you for talking to me.”
“Your heart’s too big for your own good, you know?”
I cover my face with my hand. “I don’t want to lose you, Evan.”
“I—” he hesitates, sniffs again and clears his throat. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he finally says, and the line goes silent.
Giving my younger brother access to my apartment was probably a mistake.
Most of my life outside my career is a study in bad choices.
In my defense, Jake is fifteen years my junior, and we were separated for a good part of his upbringing, so how the fuck am I supposed to know how to be a good brother to him?
I just want him in my life. Not all up in it all the time necessarily, but I certainly want him to feel comfortable in it.
However, my penthouse is not a Motel Six.
He’s making out with a girl on my very expensive couch when I come home from work. The TV is on, four beer bottles are on the coffee table, and I see a flash of female nipple before they realize I’m home and get their acts together.
“Isaac, hey.”
I glare at Jake and the female. I have nothing against women on principle—I just prefer them clothed when they’re in my presence. Call me old-fashioned. Call me gay as fuck.
“Jake,” I say with a tight jaw.
“It was crazy at the house. Hope you don’t mind—we just wanted a little quiet.”
With the TV blaring, the living room is anything but quiet.
“This is Valerie.”
I nod at the dark-haired, waif like goth with my classic golden boy of a brother. “Hello,” I say to her.
“Hi. Sorry.” Her hair is disheveled, but her perfectly lined cat eyes are still holding strong.
“I had a difficult day. Turn that down please.”
The volume of the television significantly decreases as I cross the penthouse to my bedroom. Before I can close the door, however, Jake slides in behind me. “Hey,” he says, shaking his dark golden hair from his eyes.
He and I are technically half-brothers. We share a father, but our mothers look nothing alike, and at least in our coloring, we take after them. My mother is dark-haired, dark-eyed, and on the paler side. While I religiously try not to remain pale, in the winter months, it’s difficult.
Jake, however, has a platinum blonde mother with minty green eyes and tans easily. He’s handsome, my half-brother, with a winning smile and a well-maintained look. I like to think he gets the attention to detail regarding his personal appearance from me, but it might be trending these days.
“You should have texted,” I tell him.
“I lost track of time. She was about to head out—”
“That’s not what it looked like.”
“Got side-tracked. Sorry. She started kissing me, and I got a little—you know.”
“Horny?”
“Intrigued? I wasn’t expecting it. We’re supposed to be writing a paper together.”
“Cute,” I say.
“I just mean she’s not my girlfriend or anything.”
“Jake—I don’t care. I need to take a shower.”
“You want to watch the hockey game tonight?”
“Sure,” I say.
“How bad was your day?”
I sweep my hand out to indicate the penthouse in general. “Turns out, I don’t actually have it all.”
“Everybody knows that.”
I give him a glare.
“I’m only saying you’re thirty five and single. It’s obvious you don’t want to be.”
“Maybe I want too much, then.”
“You deserve it all,” Jake says. “Just like you’re always telling me I do.”
“Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the one who’s not enough.”
He snorts. “I don’t think that’s it. You’re a lot.”
“Too much then,” I say.
“Someone’s gonna really be into that.”
“And what if they’re not enough?” The sinking feeling I’ve had since getting off the phone with Evan is unshakeable.
“Dude. Then maybe you should take a look at where these huge expectations are coming from and set some priorities. Didn’t anyone ever teach you about compromise?”
“Sure,” I say, half as a joke. “Dad did back when he used to speak to me. Never compromise, Isaac. Don’t tell me he never told you the same thing.”
“Pretty sure this isn’t what he meant by that.”
“He did, though,” I remind him. “He was talking about women. About marriage.”
“It’s obvious this conversation is going nowhere with you, so go take your shower, I’ll get rid of Valerie, and you can order us a pizza.
“Order it yourself.” I head into the bathroom, strip out of my work clothes, and wonder why losing something I never even had hurts as much as this.