Chapter 3
JASON
“What the ever-living fuck happened to your furniture?” I ask when I walk into my brother's penthouse.
Jack’s apartment used to ooze filthy-rich-business-mogul with more bare surfaces and black and white exteriors than the fucking Antarctic.
“Did your couch get eaten by the ghost of Christmas yikes?” I ask. I swear next time I show up, I’ll be tripping over trains or blocks or whatever kids play with each other now. I shudder.
“Ramen and Sushi scratched the couches. Emmeline used that as an excuse to replace the living room,” he says.
“I’m so sorry he did this to you,” I lament to the memory of his bachelor pad.
He groans next to me, but I don’t give a fuck. We used to be so alike, and now, he’s another poor sap lost to the futility of settling down.
Where’s my wingman when I need him?
Nesting, with some petite, curvy, snarling woman who has him hypnotized like a roadside attraction.
“I thought she wasn’t moving in,” I say.
Speak of the devil, Emmeline, Jack’s girlfriend, walks in laughing. I wish I could say that I hate her, but she’s not terrible. I’d go as far to say she’s funny and kind, and socially aware in ways that make up for my brother’s ineptitude.
“Good morning, Jason,” she says with a bright tone that should be illegal. “To answer your question, no, we aren’t living together.”
“Sure you aren’t,” I say sarcastically. “Your furballs are taking over the penthouse.”
“Like me, my kittens like to stay overnight,” she says as she smirks at me. “Often.”
“Our kittens,” Jack says and then takes her into his arms and kisses her deeply.
Because of course he would. Obviously, they live in a movie where the side character, me, doesn’t mind awkwardly standing there while they swap spit.
“Any day now,” I hum.
“We're looking for a house,” Jack says when they pull away. “When we find it, you'll be the first one to receive the news that we moved in together. She stays nightly because I’m kind of irresistible.”
“So, I’m irresistible?” I ask Emmeline jokingly.
It is fun driving her crazy because that drives Jack crazy. That way, everyone’s annoyed. I’m judicious that way.
She gives me a once over and shakes her head. “You two barely look alike. Your hair is lighter, your eyes are too for that matter, and you’re shorter.”
“By half an inch,” I protest. “And I’m stronger than him.” I flex and puff my chest for dramatic effect.
She waves at me dismissively. “You’ll find your other half one day, Jason. Stop pestering me.”
“Aw, come on, where’s fun Em with unending patience and a good sense of humor? We have fun here, remember?”
In all fairness, I may be pushing my luck. We may or may not have met because I tried to catcall her to piss off my brother. Boy did she rip me a new one after that.
She shrugs. “If you say so.”
Yep, I’m definitely pushing my luck.
I could be less of a playful dick, but ever since I left San Francisco to be closer to Jack a year ago, they’re the only family I see regularly. I have to capitalize on who I’ve got for as long as I’ve got.
So, if that means Em is eternally unamused by my bullshit, that’s fine. As long as I keep getting invited to brunch.
“Coffee or latte?” Em asks from the kitchen, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Espresso?” I ask hopefully.
She nods. “I heard you had a sleepover this week.”
Fuck. Josslyn. She can’t keep her mouth shut.
“You can’t prove anything,” I say defensively.
Em rolls her eyes. “Assistants talk, Jason. I just happen to get the 4-1-1 because I’m a fun boss.”
“I need a new assistant,” I complain.
“What you need is to get your act together,” Emmeline says and looks over at Jack who’s glaring at her.
See? That’s what I’m talking about. They have their dumb, secret love language that I get shut out of, and it’s only a matter of time before they start using their eyebrows to pick movies without me.
“Fine,” she finally says to Jack. “I’ll keep my opinions to myself. He can do whatever he wants with his life.”
I restrain myself from groaning audibly. This is how it’s been since they started dating. They’re so bored in their happy ending they keep meddling in my life. There’s nothing too big, or too small, in my life for them to want to change.
Well, it’s Em who does it.
Some days, I wonder if she’s just speaking for Jack? Why the fuck do they even care?
It’s not like I tell them to stop fucking around the office.
It feels like a punch in the stomach, seeing how in sync they are. I’m glad my brother found someone who loves him. He deserves it after that fucking bitch who broke his spirit.
In fact, seeing them together makes me think coupling isn’t as terrible as I make it sound. But then I remind myself that that’s not who I am. And if I ever have reason to doubt that, I just recall the day I was left at the altar.
Fuck. I run a hand through my hair. I need a week away from their lovefest with someone exponentially more fun—or some people like that.
“Speaking of which.” I clear my throat. “Can I borrow the house in Steamboat?”
Emmeline sets a platter of fruit on the table and looks at me shaking her head.
“Stop judging me,” I say. “My body, my choices.”
“Em,” Jack says, shaking his head.
She mimes zipping her lips before sitting down. I’m impressed that she keeps quiet.
And she does. Until halfway through brunch when she just has to say—
“I’m just saying that if you continue with the string of meaningless hookups, you’ll never find what you need.”
Jack snorts, and I roll my eyes.
She can’t keep her opinions to herself, can she?
“Almost ten years ago, this guy was telling me to live, and now his better half is telling me to stop.” I wave my hand around. “Make up your minds, people. I’m happy. Take it or leave it.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” she insists.
So what if sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to find a woman who makes me grin like an idiot, the way Em does with Jack? It doesn’t matter.
Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.
Emmeline is the exception to the Spearman rule. I’m fine just the way my life is.
I look at both of them, rub my chest, and sigh.
Yep, I’m fine. Who needs this?