Chapter 9
nine
WILL
“Dude. You need to chill,” I hiss, giving Zeke a sharp elbow to the ribs as Lydia and Autumn look to see who it is my brother so crassly pointed out. Shoving him out of earshot, I stab my finger into his chest. “First off, don’t talk about women that way. Second, you’re embarrassing me.”
“Oh, boo hoo.” Zeke rolls his eyes. “I’m obviously trying to make the redhead jealous. Don’t you have any game, bro?”
The redhead? As in… Lydia’s friend, Autumn?
“That woman is absolutely not jealous. If anything, she’s revolted.”
Zeke grins. “You just wait, bro. And remember—I call dibs. Don’t even think about making a move on her.”
I glance toward Lydia. She and Autumn are talking in hushed whispers, and there’s something on her face that looks absolutely… devastated. Her gaze keeps going back to the couple on the other side of the harbor.
Zeke narrows his eyes at me. “What’s that look for? Did you fuck her already?”
“No, I did not,” I snap. “We’re not all sex crazed, you know. I’ve never seen her before in my life. But if she’s Lydia’s friend, I can tell you right now that she is not trying to get it on with some douchey twenty-two-year-old.”
A smirk creeps over my brother’s face. “Ohhh. Lydia. I see, you fucked the brunette.”
“Knock it off,” I growl. This kid is really starting to annoy me. “I have not fucked the brunette, and you’d better keep your goddamn voice down if you want a roof over your lazy head.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“Because she’s the assistant librarian at the Hawthorne Bay public library—for which I am currently in charge of renovations.”
Zeke pushes a slim hand backward through his hair, making it stand on end. He smooths it down again. “A librarian, huh? You like her.”
“As a matter of fact, she’s a pain in my ass—even more than you, if you can believe that.”
“Boo,” Zeke says. He cranes his neck to look at Lydia and Autumn again. “Looks like the redhead’s got a huge ol’ rock on her left hand. I’m not messing around with that.”
I snort. “I’d say that’s probably for the best.”
“And I’d say your brunette knows the guy with that blond chick over there. Love how they picked the missing nose guy to stand next to.”
Zeke juts his chin toward the couple, and I whip my head around again.
Thankfully, I can’t see whatever ghost with the missing nose Zeke keeps talking about.
But I can see that Lydia has gone up to the flesh and blood guy, who’s dressed in a tight-fitting polo and has so much gel in his hair I can see it glimmering from where I’m standing.
I can’t hear anything Lydia is saying, but when she goes in for a hug, the guy goes all loose, slides one half-assed arm around her back.
The woman he’s with—the blond one Zeke called a piece of ass—looks genuinely confused, but Autumn’s staring at Polo Guy like he’s the scum of the earth.
I see Lydia give a nervous laugh, touch the guy’s arm.
He flinches away, and her face falters. But the next second, her too-wide smile is back, and she’s waving goodbye to him, tugging Autumn after her into the crowd.
It’s only when they reach a table covered with caramel apples that she lets the pasted-on grin slide.
From across the way, Polo Guy shoots her this awful, pitying smile and places his hand on the small of the blond chick’s back as they head to a different booth.
“That dude is absolutely stringing your girl along,” Zeke remarks.
“She’s not my girl.”
From the looks of things, Zeke’s not wrong. I have no clue what the context of that little meet-up just was, but frankly, it’s not my business. I’ve got too much on my plate right now to go adding other people’s drama to the mix.
“Whatever,” Zeke says. He’s already striding toward the caramel apple booth, where Autumn’s standing with one hip jutting out, surveying the spread. There’s no telling what this kid’s going to say next, so I sigh and follow him. I’ve turned into his walking damage control.
Lydia glances back at the same moment Zeke and I approach the table. She catches my eye, cocking her head at me. “Are you… following us?”
“Maybe,” Zeke says with a wink. He quirks an eyebrow. “Do you want us to be?”
Lydia flicks a hand at him, but there’s laughter in her voice when she says, “You’re pretty full of yourself, kid.”
Zeke leans against the table, and his eyes flit to Autumn’s. “And for good reason.”
“Okay,” I cut in, handing the high school kid a five-dollar bill as he passes Zeke a caramel apple. Whatever happened to the redhead’s got a rock on her finger? “We get it, Zeke. If flirting were a viable career, you’d be a fucking billionaire.”
Lydia’s quiet, studying Zeke. “You said you’re looking for a job, yeah?”
“Mmhm.” Zeke takes a bite of the apple, licking his lips as he crunches for a moment. “I mean, in theory. Gotta do something about my resume. Will doesn’t know what he’s—”
“I’ll take a look at it.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll take a look at your resume,” Lydia repeats.
She digs around in her bag for a second, then jots something down on a memo pad and hands it to Zeke.
“That’s my email. Send me what you’ve got, and we’ll go from there.
I know if it were me I’d want to get out from under The Hulk’s roof as soon as possible. ”
“Daaamn,” Zeke says through a mouthful of caramel. He’s looking at Lydia in awe. “Right on. You’re awesome.”
Lydia shoots me a snide glance, and I can’t tell if she’s reveling in her Hulk comment or trying to rub it in that, for this moment at least, my little brother seems to prefer her to me.
Both, probably. The way she looks at me before turning to choose a caramel apple from the spread on the table is infuriating.
What’s she trying to do? Show me up in the skill of useless document writing?
Prove my own brother thinks I’m incompetent?
Still, I’d be lying if I said I’m not a little impressed with the way she handled Zeke just now.
How she snapped him out of his antics and, not only that, managed to get an actual answer out of him?
Dang. I’m also a little—wow, it’s hard to admit—touched that she’d offer her time and expertise to help this jerk of a kid start getting his shit together.
Shoving Zeke away from the table, I slip a ten-dollar bill to the kid working the booth and tip my head toward Autumn and Lydia, who are still deciding whether they want pecans or sprinkles. The kid flashes me a grin to show he understands, and I turn and leave, falling into step beside my brother.
Lydia intrigues me. Her jabs at me are expected, but I’m not sure what to make of her generosity to my brother, who she just met, or that shattered look she got when she saw that couple on the dock.
There’s clearly a story there that I’m not privy to, but remembering the way her shoulders fell when that guy would barely hug her back… I could’ve punched him.
She may hate me, but she doesn’t deserve that kind of shit. And if a caramel apple on a stick is going to make her day a little better after putting up with a douche like that? Hell, I’m there.