2. Chapter 2
Chapter two
I didn’t think I was the kind of guy who needed to skip town after breaking a girl’s heart. Finding another girl in Houston would be easy. In fact, finding a replacement could have happened the night we broke it off. But instead, I packed some duffel bags and told Mom I was headed out to stay with my brother, EJ, in South Carolina for a while. It all fell into place, really, that the tattoo shop of my dreams is in the same city as my brother.
I couldn’t stay in Texas knowing she was staying. We frequent the same bars too much. We’re creatures of habit, she and I. And I refuse to watch her get free drinks and have her ass grabbed by a man that’s not me. When I got word of this tattoo shop I needed to see—it was the perfect excuse to get the hell out of there.
I pull into EJ’s apartment complex right as the sun is setting, my old girl sputtering and wheezing. When I cut the engine, it’s like the whole truck sags, relieved to finally rest. I climb out and softly shut the driver’s side door. One of these days, the thing might fall off the hinges. I’ll bide time until that day comes—I’ve got a tattoo empire to build, and as much as I love my baby rust bucket of a truck, she’s not my priority right now.
I climb a flight of steps, being deposited right in front of EJ’s door. I knock for nearly ten minutes, pounding on the door like a pissed-off girl dad by the end, but to no avail. I’m convinced he’s asleep, getting ready to start his day at dusk, as per usual. Then my phone rings.
“Yo!” my brother says—his usual phone greeting, regardless of gender, relationship, or literally anything.
“Where are you? I’ve been knocking, dumbass.”
“Can’t hear it from work, asshole,” he retorts.
“Work?” I say. “That’s where you are? How am I supposed to get in?”
“Shiiiit,” EJ sighs. “You’re here already? Dude, I thought you weren’t gonna be here until I was out of work.”
“Things changed,” I tell him. “What do I do here?”
“If you can meet me at work, I can give you my spare key,” he says. “I’m at Brew until close.”
“Can you speak to me in a way I can understand?” I ask. My jaw ticks with an annoyance that only my older brother can bring out.
“I’m working at Beach Brew. It’s a coffee shop downtown, a straight shot down Main Street from the apartment. Is driving a few seconds manageable for you?”
“Fuck you,” I say.
“Love you more, bro,” he says as I hang up.
Firstly, EJ is a liar. It’s not a few seconds, it’s two minutes. Parking is shitty, so I have no choice but to park in a lot behind other storefronts in the compact downtown. One has to be a restaurant, because the moment I step out of my truck, I smell bacon grease. Moments later, I realize the coffee shop is right across from the restaurant—a place simply called The Diner.
Beach Brew is the place I’m headed, but there’s nothing beachy about it. Everything is covered in copper, and weird, fake plants that look too green wind around the dark oak beams on the ceiling. The faux plants make the cool-looking brick on the walls, worn and faded red, look displaced. A few tables for two are nestled against that wall, with more seating across the room from it. Right in the center is a walkway to the supposed coffee God himself: my brother EJ.
He looks like he hasn’t bothered to trim his beard since the last time we saw each other: dark, scraggly, and the first thing I see. And the gray T-shirt with the business logo on the left chest isn’t doing him any good for appearances. Good thing he’s got the sparingly tattooed football linebacker thing going for him in his old age—chicks dig beefy dudes with biceps the size of their head. Add in the fact that he’s twice my size, and he’s a catch for sure.
“Hey, stranger!” EJ says when I walk in, a copper bell chiming.
“So, this is the place,” I say. “Very, uh, quaint.”
“Full of hot chicks,” he says. “And quaint too, I guess.”
“Are all the hot chicks invisible?” I say, looking around at the empty cafe. “Tell them they can turn their powers off now.”
“They aren’t here now,” he says with a sad sigh. “Mornings, sometimes. Late afternoons are pretty typical.”
“Duly noted,” I say. “Hot chicks in the morning and afternoon.”
“How you holding up?” EJ says. “I mean, after another break—”
“I don’t want to talk about her,” I cut in. “But she’s done with my shit, so it’s best I move on now. And where better than a coffee shop overflowing with hot chicks between nine and three? Besides, I’ve got a tattoo shop to focus on. I don’t have time for much else.”
“That’s my boy!” EJ holds up a paper cup. “Can I get you a coffee? Fifteen hours in the car has got to have made you tired.”
“Yeah. But make it black. I don’t do frilly shit.”
His eyebrows find his hairline, offended. “You have no interest in trying our selection of over sixteen sauces and syrups?” EJ wonders. “How about a little vanilla, at least?”
Vanilla. Now he’s mocking me. “Black coffee,” I warn. “Don’t screw me.”
The bell chimes and in walks a taller, thin girl with dark hair in a high ponytail. She’s wearing a shirt from The Diner—a navy blue number that looks like it’s a dress on her. And she looks exhausted.
I shake my head. Fuck me. Get your mind off of chicks, Cade. For once.
“Rory Rose Ellison,” EJ says. “My favorite customer.”
“And the only customer you have tried to sleep with,” Rory says. “So I guess, if that makes me the favorite.”
“I only made a move on you,” EJ tells her, “because I was under the impression you wanted me to make a move on you.”
“And then I woke up the next day and regretted it,” she says, flippant. “I’ll have my usual.”
“You free for the night?” EJ asks.
She nods. “Yeah. Belinda was feeling kind, I guess. She’s excited because her daughter is coming to visit tomorrow.”
“Belinda Elliott has a daughter?” EJ asks. “You’re kidding.”
Now he’s a small town gossip—wonderful.
“Right? Like anyone would touch that woman,” Rory says. “One look at her and you’re hopeful, then she crushes your dreams with well-manicured fingers.”
“Someone did,” EJ says. “She’s got a kid.”
“Not kid,” the girl says. “An adult. An adult child. Her daughter is studying business at UConn.”
“You think she’s hot?” EJ asks without missing a beat.
“She’s Belinda Elliott’s daughter. Of course, she’ll be hot. Probably nice to look at, but with a so-so personality like her wonderful mother.”
“Fair,” EJ says. Then, like he’s just now remembering I’m standing here, waiting for coffee, he says, “Rory, meet my little brother, Cade. Cade, this is Rory.”
“You’re not very… little brother,” Rory decides. When I furrow my eyebrows, she says, “I mean. Because, like, EJ’s little brother shouldn’t be cute. EJ’s not cute.”
I feel the tops of my ears get warm. I’m no stranger to a woman telling me she thinks I’m attractive, but to follow it up with something similar to I wasn’t expecting that because I find your brother ugly? Interesting take.
I flash a million-dollar smile, dimples and all.
“Fuck off, both of you,” EJ says. “But especially you.” He points a long silver spoon at me from behind the counter at the same time that he finally sets my coffee down.
“Don’t be mean to him just because you’re the ugly one,” Rory says.
“Do you really believe that, Rory?” EJ asks her, eyebrows raised as he pours steamed milk into a to-go cup. “If memory serves, I don’t think you do.”
“Oh, get bent,” Rory says. She reaches her slender arm out, grabbing for the cup EJ presents her then. “Can we hang out at your place?”
EJ shoots a look at me, then turns back to Rory. “No, I have company.”
“I could join you and your hot brother company,” Rory offers, smiling mischievously in my direction. I like this girl already—clearly she likes screwing with EJ as much as I do.
“No.”
“EJ. You’re being a buzzkill.”
“I don’t care.”
“But—”
“No. I’m not even giving you the opportunity to convince my poor little brother that he wants to be taken advantage of by you.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of he’d take advantage of me,” she says, then dares to wink at me before throwing her head back in laughter.
“Enough,” EJ says. “You have your after-shift caffeine, and I need to start closing up.”
“Buzzkill,” Rory repeats. “You should have a welcome party at your house tomorrow. I’ll bring Belinda’s daughter so she can meet you. And we can get to know your hot brother better.”
“His hot brother has a name,” I say. My voice comes out weird and sounds like tires on gravel.
“He speaks!” Rory exclaims.
“Get out,” EJ tells Rory again. “Get outta here.”
Rory holds up her free hand, turning away from the counter. “Party tomorrow. Right, Hot Brother?” She calls as she pulls the door to Beach Brew open, and with it, a rush of chilly night air.
“You got it,” I tell her, holding up my coffee as a form of solidarity.
She’s laughing as she leaves.
When I turn back to EJ, he peers at me with dark eyes.
“You like Rory,” I say. When his lip twitches, I say it again.
“I put vanilla in that coffee, by the way,” EJ retorts. “Asshole.”