These Days of Us (London Lovers #3)

Chapter 1

JAKE

If there was one thing in life I hated, it was wearing a goddamn suit.

I tugged at my shirt collar for the hundredth time, near-strangling with the bow tie my older brother, Oliver, had forcibly fastened this morning. I swear he’d done it tight on purpose.

Bastard.

Risking the wrath of my mother, I loosened the top button and drifted over to my friend and temporary roommate, Avery, stationed at the back of the room.

Technically, she was less roommate, more landlord after I moved into her spare room, and temporary was going on three months now, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“Wow. That looks amazing, Ave. You’ve outdone yourself.”

Avery’s paintbrush froze an inch away from her live painting of my sister’s wedding. She turned in slow motion, wide-eyed and seemingly horrified by my audacity, which was comical considering I had mountains of the stuff.

Her words, not mine.

“Be quiet,” she whisper-hissed, then checked to see if anyone was looking.

They weren’t.

One-hundred-plus guests were glued to the lavish ceremony happening at the front of the hotel ballroom where my older sister, Talia, and her soon-to-be husband, Rafe, exchanged vows.

“This place is massive. No one can hear us back here.”

“You better hope.”

I shrugged, sipping on the champagne I’d swiped from the open bar. My third drink of the day maybe? I’d lost track hours ago.

Obviously, I was happy for my sister, but these kinds of social gatherings weren’t my favourite way to spend an afternoon, let alone an entire day.

There was something fake about being forced to interact with people I hadn’t seen in years, some I would never see again.

I’d already upset my dad’s cousin after she made a comment about how tall I was now, but that happened when you hadn’t seen someone in almost fifteen years, Susan.

The whole thing rubbed me the wrong way, hence… alcohol.

“Do you want some champagne?”

“I’m trying to concentrate,” Avery gritted out. “And you’re being rude.”

She was right, but my decades-long inability to sit still meant it was better for everyone if I wasn’t visibly wriggling the entire ceremony.

“Talia knows what I’m like. She’s cool with it.”

And her opinion was the only one that mattered today.

“Hmm. So you say.”

Chuckling, I let my gaze travel along the aisle and rows of chairs hemmed with extravagant floral displays and giant white bows, then back at Avery’s painting; the canvas brightened by the daylight lamp clipped to her travel easel.

Her sketch mirrored the ceremony unfolding in front of us, from the shimmer of my sister’s dress to the fierce grip of their hands.

Talia was gonna ugly cry when she saw it.

“Do you think I can take off my tie yet?”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

I fought a grin. Avery was so easy to wind up, and it never got old trying, even after eleven years of friendship. She was a second sister in many ways, so naturally I treated her like one… by annoying the shit out of her.

“Alright. Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. You know I hate that. I’m gonna count to five and if you don’t stop bugging me, I’ll do something you’ll regret. Maybe with your balls.”

“Oooh. Promise?”

“I mean it,” she warned. “One… Two…”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be quiet.”

For the next twenty minutes I finished my drink and focused on the wedding. I had to admit it was nice seeing my sister so happy—the saving grace of this whole day. Even Rafe managed a smile, the grumpy bastard.

A post-Christmas miracle.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the registrar announced. “Rafe, you may kiss your bride.”

Oh shit. That was my cue.

I’d been given two requests for this wedding—demands actually, but that was a matter of semantics according to my mother.

One, I had to wear my jacket and bow tie throughout the entire ceremony. Mum was serious about me staying fully dressed for some reason, not that I understood the concern. It wasn’t like I walked around with my balls out. Okay, one time maybe but that was an accident.

Two, in addition to the ‘professional’ photographer they’d hired, it was my job to take candids throughout the day. A real kick in the teeth considering photography was my real profession, but also not surprising when my parents refused to acknowledge it as a career at all.

The less thought about that, the better.

Fishing my Nikon from my jacket, I snapped half a dozen photos of Rafe cradling Talia close, and if he thought he was being discreet shoving his tongue in her mouth, well, he was wrong.

Next, a few shots of them walking up the aisle, smiling and waving to guests, and a couple of my family following behind. Mum would hate that she looked like a snotty panda, so I zoomed in and grabbed a few more.

What could I say?

If there’s a chance for trouble, I take it.

“Thank god, now we can eat,” I said, only half joking.

“Official photographs are next.” Avery looked far too happy at the way my face dropped. “You’ll be included in that so get ready.”

“But I’m so hungry.”

“Then you should have made time for breakfast.”

“They said there was a wedding breakfast though.”

“There is, but that happens after the ceremony. It’s like you’ve never been to a wedding before.”

“Why call it a wedding breakfast if it isn’t served first thing? Makes no sense.”

“Because it’s the first meal they serve on the day? Wait. Why am I even debating this with you?” Avery laughed to herself. “Look, if you’re that desperate there’s a granola bar in my tote bag.”

“Really?” I laid a noisy, smacking kiss on her cheek. “You’re a lifesaver.”

She elbow-nudged me away. “I’m only doing it to stop all this whining, you big baby.”

“A man’s gotta eat, Ave.”

“Oh my god, go away. I need to finish this.”

Laughing, I rifled through her bag for the granola bar, and devoured the whole thing in three bites.

I didn’t mess around when it came to food.

With the post-dinner, post-speeches party in full swing, I camped out at one of the tables, legs propped on a chair, enjoying my favourite pastime—people watching.

People were annoying as hell sometimes, but they were also pretty fascinating, especially when given a fun backstory of my own choosing.

I also captured a few more candids of the dancing guests, one of my parents gazing dreamily at the newlyweds as they swayed out of sync with the music, and one of my eldest brother, Leo, and his girlfriend, Grace.

The two had disappeared over an hour ago, and the way the disco strobe light silhouetted their side profiles as they strolled back inside was… chef’s kiss.

“Were you two having sex?” I shouted over the music once they reached our table. “Because now we have a picture of the aftermath forever.”

“I’m wearing Spanx,” Grace admitted, fussing with the length of her dark hair. “Sex ain’t happening. I’d never get them back on again.”

“It’s true,” my brother said. “I had to help her get them on this morning.”

“He lifted me off the floor trying to tug them over my ass.”

We all laughed.

“Can you breathe properly?”

Grace actually thought about it, inhaling deeply to double-check. “Mostly?”

“Why are you doing that to yourself?” I asked, horrified, and slightly guilty for all my whining about my bow tie.

“I don’t usually, but this dress is silk,” she said, as if I was supposed to know what that meant. “It needs a smooth silhouette over all my lumps and bumps.”

“I love your lumps and bumps.” Leo wrenched her close and nuzzled her neck while he groped at her generous hips. “And I’m all about your silhouette.”

Her giggle was the last straw.

“Well, that’s my cue.” I stood, almost sending my chair flying, and surveyed the room. “Have you seen Avery? She left me babysitting her handbag and I’m ready to call it a night.”

“Uh,” Grace trailed off, distracted by whatever Leo was doing. I didn’t want to know. “Last I saw she was chatting with Oliver at the bar.”

“I better go save her from that dickhead then.”

Leo cast me a searing look of disapproval. “That’s your brother.”

“Unfortunately. What’s your point?”

He sighed so loud all the air must’ve left his lungs. “You two really need to sort your shit out.”

As far as I was concerned, I wasn’t the one who had shit to sort out.

“Maybe if he stops being a dickhead, we will.”

“I know he gives you a tough time, but he means well.”

“Do you really believe that?” I tossed my rumpled jacket and waistcoat, as well as Avery’s handbag, over my shoulder, needing to escape this conversation fast. “Look, I know you all think I’m the screw-up epic disaster black sheep of the family.

I get it. But I don’t need reminding every goddamn day, okay? Change the record already.”

“No one thinks that of you,” Leo replied.

I laughed, but there was nothing funny about the whispers of disapproval whenever I left the room or the shit Oliver threw my way.

Last month at Sunday dinner he’d made another comment about my lack of permanent address and how I was ‘taking advantage of Avery’s kindness’—I wasn’t, she’d offered—and it was all my dad had needed to join in. No one considered the alternative. It was always my fault.

Sure, I’d made mistakes over the years, but who hadn’t?

The truth of it was, I unsettled them. I’d rather be halfway around the world than losing the will to live in the London rat race, and I made choices that my family didn’t understand and couldn’t relate to.

Maybe I’d relied on my siblings a couple of times as a result of those choices.

But I would’ve done the same for them, no questions.

Even Oliver. Even if he’d pissed me off. That’s what family did.

“Sure.” I gave the room another search. “Whatever you say.”

“Don’t go yet,” my brother begged. “Let’s talk about this.”

“Nah, you’re good. Besides, this is Talia’s special day and I’m not ruining that. You two have a good night, okay? Cut those Spanx off and go crazy.”

Leo stood immediately, driven by his eldest sibling need to fix things, but Grace squeezed his arm, her touch the only thing that settled him.

“Okay,” she said softly. “We’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.”

“Cool. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

I shot them a couple of finger guns for some reason, then dad-danced onto the dance floor to kiss my sister goodnight.

After we swayed and hugged for a minute longer than sober Talia usually allowed, I patted Rafe on the back in congratulations, then left the ballroom carrying a sparkly handbag and a shitload of irritation that would take hours to shake.

I need another drink.

Thank god I had to stop at the bar anyway.

Avery wasn’t in the bar area though, so I ordered a beer for the walk up to my room, wondering where the hell she’d gone.

“Hey, man. Have you seen a woman wearing a bright pink dress, by any chance? Tall, about five-ten, dark hair. Kinda looks like she might kill you.”

“The painter?” The barman set the beer down on a paper napkin. “I think she went out back.”

“Really?” I glanced at the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the gardens at the back of the hotel, and the snowflakes falling steadily outside. Hard to believe staunch winter-hater Avery would be outside in the freezing cold, but okay. “I’ll be back for that drink. Hold it for me.”

“Sure, man, no probs.”

I’d barely pushed the door open when I spotted Oliver kissing a woman against the wall, and making the kind of noises I never wanted to hear.

“Whoops,” I sang, wondering if ear bleach was a thing. “My bad.”

He staggered backwards at the interruption, and all the blood surged to my ears.

Was that…?

Oliver with his hand on my friend’s thigh.

Oliver with his tongue in my friend’s mouth.

Oliver and Avery making the kind of noises I had no business hearing.

What.

The.

Fucking.

Fuck?

I didn’t know what the fuck happened after that. I must’ve blacked out as the next thing I knew pain bloomed across my knuckles and Oliver was clutching at his jaw, staring at me in disbelief.

“What the hell?” he roared. “You punched me!”

“Come closer and I’ll match the other side. What the fuck!”

“Jake, stop,” Avery begged, shoving herself between us while my body shook with adrenaline and rage.

I chanced a look at her, shivering, hair all messy and damp with melted snowflakes, lipstick smudged, one thin pink strap loose around the top of her arm, and turned away.

My brother had done that to her.

My brother.

“I don’t believe this.”

“Listen—”

“I don’t want to listen to anything you have to say, Oliver, least of all now.”

“But if you let me explain.”

“Oh, like you give me the chance to explain anything?” My laugh was derisive, as bitter as the air. “You want to explain why you had your tongue in my friend’s mouth? Go ahead. This should be good.”

“There wasn’t any tongue,” Avery said, then clenched her eyes closed. “Okay, I heard how that sounded and it wasn’t helpful.”

“You don’t say.”

A look I refused to name passed between them. They weren’t standing so close anymore, but the image of them pressed up against the wall was burned into my retinas and probably would be for a long time.

Forget ear bleach, I needed some for my brain.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” Oliver rushed out.

“It’s not?” Avery asked quietly.

Fucking Oliver.

“No, I mean, I… It just happened.”

“It just happened?” she repeated slowly.

“Avery…”

“Forget it. Just—forget it. I must be imagining things again.”

I frowned at the scene unfolding in front of me like I wasn’t there, and the creeping, dreaded realisation that these two had some kind of history I wasn’t aware of. I didn’t know what emotion to wrestle with first.

Betrayal.

Disbelief.

Fist-shaking fury.

It shouldn’t have mattered. They were adults. This kind of thing happened all the time. Rafe was Leo’s best friend, and he’d married our sister for fuck’s sake. Leo had been cool with it.

Except…

I wasn’t Leo.

And Oliver wasn’t Rafe.

And they didn’t have a decades-long fucked-up sibling rivalry that persisted no matter how old we were.

How could he do this?

Oliver knew how important Avery was to me, how much I valued her friendship. The last thing I wanted was Mr Allergic-to-Commitment messing with my best friend and breaking her heart. She’d never want to see me again.

And Avery. Well. She knew Oliver made me feel like crap at times, always on at me for something.

Did loyalty mean nothing anymore?

Have they been laughing at me this whole time?

Never in my life had I felt like such a fucking moron… until now.

“I can’t deal with this. I’m out.”

“Jake—”

“We’ll talk another day, Ave. Seems like you two have some things you need to sort out, and I’ve seen enough for one night.”

“Please,” she whispered, snagging my sleeve. “I didn’t intend for this to happen.”

“No one ever does.” I tossed Avery her bag and hightailed it the fuck out of there.