Chapter 32
I clear the distance between the kitchen and living room in seconds. It’s long enough for Milo to stand up and face my brother. To his credit, despite the outright aggression in my brother’s demand and stance, Milo’s expression and body language remain easy. His shoulders are relaxed and the look on his face is neutral.
“Jordan, what are you doing?” I say.
“Riley, it’s all right,” Milo says in a weirdly upbeat tone.
“I just wanna have a chat with my sister’s new boyfriend. That’s all.”
I take in the tight smile on Jordan’s face, his overly chipper tone. Yeah, this is complete bullshit.
I grab my brother by the arm and walk him to the hallway, away from the rest of the family, half of whom are looking over at us.
“What the hell are you doing?” I say in a low voice. “Are you seriously trying to start something with Milo in front of our whole family?”
He frowns and pulls his lips into his mouth before he sighs, his hard expression easing the slightest bit. “He’s Tristan’s cousin, Riley. I’d like to know why he thought it was cool to make a move on his cousin’s ex-wife.”
My blood boils. “Don’t talk about me like I’m an object to fight over. I’m a person—I’m your older sister, and I can make my own decisions. I don’t need my little brother policing who I choose to date.”
He sighs, his shoulders slumping a little bit. “I just want to get to know the guy who’s with my sister. That’s all.”
Footsteps echo behind me.
“It’s okay, Riley. Really.” I spin around to see Milo. “I’d like to get to know your brother too,” he says.
“Good.” Jordan claps Milo on the shoulder. I wince at the sound as it echoes in the hallway. That had to have hurt. Milo doesn’t even flinch, though. It’s like he was expecting it.
“Let’s get a drink,” Jordan mutters. Milo walks off with him.
They’re headed for the garage. I go after them, but when I walk past the dining table, Mom reaches up to stop me.
“Let them have some time alone,” she says.
“Mom, no way. Jordan’s gonna try to pick a fight with him.”
Mom sighs before hollering after him. “Jordan!” The entire house falls quiet at her go-to mom tone, that loud, sharp, no-nonsense voice that she’s used on my brother and me our entire lives. Just the sound of our names spoken in that tone stilled us instantly. We knew she meant business.
Jordan stops dead in his tracks and spins around. “What is it, Mom?”
“You be nice to Milo. You hear me?”
Milo starts to smile before quickly reining in his expression. Mom tilts her head at Jordan. I don’t miss the hard swallow that moves down my little brother’s throat. That fiery look in his eyes is dialed back. Now he just looks more determined than pissed.
“Yes, Mom.”
The two walk out the door.
“See, anak ?” Mom smiles at me. “They’ll be just fine.”
My stomach churns. “I hope you’re right.”
“Why do you keep looking at the clock, anak ?” Auntie Randi asks while I put a new liner in the trash can.
Before I can answer, Mom chimes in: “She’s worried that Jordan and Milo will get into a fight. So silly.”
“It’s not silly,” I say. “They’ve been in the garage for over an hour.”
Mom waves a hand. “So? That must mean they’re having so much fun together that they lost track of time.”
If only. “I’m going to check on them.”
“Oh, anak , just have some faith. It’ll work out.”
I ignore her as I walk off, my adrenaline pumping like hot steam from a teakettle. For the last hour I battled the urge to burst into the garage to see what they’ve been up to. Every time I started to walk in the direction of the garage door, Mom would stop me to ask for a refill on her water or to help her up so she could run to the bathroom.
But I can’t take it anymore. My brother and my boyfriend might be beating each other to a pulp in the garage. I need to do something.
I push open the door and walk past my mom’s car and out to the driveway, where there are lawn chairs set up. Mom always does that when family comes over, in case anyone wants some fresh air.
When I see Milo and Jordan sitting in the lawn chairs, their backs to me, a bottle of Scotch between them, I stop in my tracks. I’m about a dozen feet from them.
“Look, man,” Jordan slurs. “I love my sister, okay? I know she’s older than me and can take care of herself, but her ex was a dickhead. I mean, no offense, I know he’s your cousin and all ...”
Milo sways in his chair and shakes his head. “None taken. You’re right. He’s a dickhead.”
The tension in my muscles eases. They’re both drunk, but I can’t detect an ounce of harshness in their conversation.
As quietly as I can, I step to the side so I can get a better look at their faces.
Jordan twists his head to look at Milo. “You really gave up your cousin to be with my sister?”
“Yeah.” Milo says it while looking Jordan straight in the eye, without hesitation.
Jordan’s gaze turns thoughtful as he nods, like he’s processing the seriousness of what Milo has just told him.
“Your family must have been pissed,” Jordan says.
“A lot of them are, but I don’t care. Just because someone is related to you doesn’t mean you should listen to them or be loyal to them. Decency is more important than blood.”
My little brother’s brow shoots to his hairline as he continues nodding, like that’s the most profound thing he’s ever heard.
A long moment passes where the two of them quietly gaze ahead. Jordan takes a sip from the Scotch bottle before handing it to Milo. He takes a swig too. They both wince.
“God, Scotch is nasty,” Jordan mutters.
“You get used to it,” Milo says.
“When does it stop tasting like shit?”
“Never.”
Jordan laughs. So does Milo. I bite my tongue to keep from chuckling. That’s when I realize how giddy I feel watching my brother and my boyfriend shoot the shit over a bottle of Scotch.
Jordan turns back to Milo. “I’m not gonna lie, man. Everything in me says not to like you. Which sucks because you’re pretty cool to chill with.”
Milo chuckles before quieting at the sight of my brother’s frown.
“My sister deserves the best after what she’s been through,” Jordan says. “If you can’t treat her well, you have no business being with her.”
I take in the serious look on my brother’s face, how his gaze is clear and focused despite the fact that he’s intoxicated.
I feel myself soften. Yeah, this “protective little brother” act is obnoxious. But it’s well intentioned. He’s reading Milo the riot act because he cares about me—because he loves me and wants the best for me. For that, I adore him.
I look over at Milo, who’s returning my brother’s pointed, focused stare.
“I don’t blame you for not wanting to like me, Jordan,” Milo says. “You’ve got every reason not to. I’m dating your sister, for one. Brothers tend to hate the significant others of their sisters.”
Jordan nods once. “Yup.”
“Plus, I’m related to her ex. And I pulled a classic move from the slimeball handbook and made my interest in Riley clear to her pretty much the minute she became single.”
I tense as I notice my brother clench his jaw.
“But there’s a reason I did all that. Because I really, really like Riley. I have for a long time. Yeah, I didn’t go about things the right way. I went about it in the messiest way possible, actually.” Milo rubs the back of his neck, wincing. “But I’m not some smooth operator. I’m a guy who cares about your sister a hell of a lot and wants more than anything to make her happy.”
Goose bumps flash across my skin at the conviction in Milo’s tone, at how straightforward and honest and heartfelt his words are. I believe him.
I take in how Jordan stares at Milo without saying a word. I start to tense at my brother’s lack of response.
But then he blinks. He holds his fist out to Milo. Milo stares at Jordan’s hand for a long second before bumping his fist in return.
I can’t help the smile that tugs at my mouth as I quietly turn around and walk back into the house, leaving Jordan and Milo to have this breakthrough moment on their own.
I walk up behind Mom as she sits at the dining table and drop a kiss to the top of her head.
“You were right, Mom. It all worked out.”