39. Linc
“We got an email from Parker. He wants to meet Wednesday. That work for you two?” I look across the dining table, my phone in hand and a bowl of cereal in front of me.
Shane grunts, intent on his avocado toast.
“If we must,” Declan mutters.
He’s been morose since we got back from Paris, but he’s done literally nothing about it. Not a goddamn thing.
“You know what, Dec?” I snarl, leaning back in my chair. “Fuck you and your shit attitude.”
He turns to me, eyes wide. “Whoa, Linc. What the fuck?”
“She told us from the beginning he’d be taking over,” Shane cuts in, his tone calm and even. “Everything’s going to plan.”
“Everything.” My brother rolls his eyes. “Really? Everything’s going to plan.”
Shane looks up at him with just his eyes, brows raised. “Yes. Want to say it one more time?”
“Fuck off, Shane.”
“Pretty sure you’re the one who needs to do that, Declan.”
Dec shoves his chair back. “Okay, we’re doing this. What the fuck, guys? We need to clear the damn air.”
“We do.” I stand, taking my bowl to the sink and tossing it in. “Downstairs.”
Dec’s brows draw together. “Why?”
“Because if I don’t have something to hit while we have this conversation, I’m going to hit you.”
Shane snorts and gets to his feet, dumping his plate in the sink before trailing after me.
I pause at the top of the stairs, looking back at Dec’s bewildered expression. “You coming?”
Without waiting for an answer, I jog down the stairs. Shane is hot on my heels, the aggravated energy running through him since our disastrous flight back from Paris a tangible thing between us.
“You good?” I ask under my breath as we reach the landing.
“No.” His sharp blue eyes meet mine. “I will be, though.” He gestures to the punching bags. “Which one you want?”
“Speed bag.”
Jerking his chin in agreement, he turns to the freestanding heavy bag and rolls up the sleeves of his black button down. As Dec appears on the landing, Shane throws a vicious punch. It lands with a satisfying thunk. Dec pauses, his eyebrows inching toward his hairline, then continues.
“That for me, Shane?” Dec’s voice is gruff.
“Yep.”
We both freeze at his response. Shane is our peacekeeper. Even if we don’t talk about it, we all know it. He understands the two of us better than we understand ourselves, and he navigates conflicts between us with ease. Part of his technique, though, is keeping his own emotion out of it. He plays a mean Switzerland, but it seems he’s breaking with tradition. Aren’t we all?
“Out with it then.” Dec sounds resigned.
“Why don’t you unload what’s in your head.” Shane lands another punch as I step up to the speed bag.
“Of course,” Dec mutters, rolling his eyes. “Since I’m the only one who apparently doesn’t feel the need to be violent, I’ll just take a seat.”
He gestures toward the weight bench, seemingly looking for some form of acknowledgement. When he gets none, he huffs and slumps onto the bench. Like Shane, he’s already dressed for work, his business casual attire clashing with the gym equipment.
“Okay, I’ll start,” Dec announces. “I’m pissed.”
“No shit,” I grunt, my shoulder muscles bunching under my white tee.
“I don’t get how she can just turn it off. That day in Paris was…fuck, it was magic. And on the plane back she’s all business? What the fuck?”
“Explain something to me.”
I stop hitting the bag, the harsh tone of Shane’s voice grabbing all of my attention.
“Explain, Dec, how you’re so fucking smart and so goddamn dense at the same time.”
“Hey!” Dec protests.
“No, listen. How many business meetings did we have with Lex over the last three months?”
“I–I’m not sure…”
“I don’t need an exact count, Dec. But it was a lot, yes?” Shane’s whole body is a hard line as he turns to Dec, arms crossed.
“Yes?” Dec looks askance at me, confused.
“Right. A lot. And how many of those meetings happened while Linc or I were fucking Lex?”
I flinch. He’s making a point, but it still feels wrong to call what we have with Lex nothing more than ‘fucking’.
“Uh, most of them?”
“Right. And how many of those meetings revolved around our goddamn personal relationship?!” Shane’s volume steadily increases to a dull roar.
Dec sits roughly against the wall behind the bench, his eyes wide. “None of them.”
“Fucking. None. Of. Them,” Shane bites the words out. “What gave you the right to assume your relationship with her was so goddamn special she needed to change the dynamic we’ve had for the past three months?”
“I…I didn’t think of it that way, Shane, I–”
“You didn’t think,” Shane snarls. “Period, Dec! You didn’t fucking think! You think Linc and I weren’t in our heads on that flight, wondering how the next few hours were going to go? You think we hadn’t talked about how we wanted to approach her about something more than just the three months she negotiated at the beginning?”
“You did?” Dec looks at me.
I spread my hands, palms up. “Of course we did. In case you missed it, we’re in love with her. Not like we’re just gonna shrug and say bye because an arbitrary clock ran out.”
“You didn’t talk to me.”
“You haven’t exactly been forthcoming about where you stand,” Shane deadpans. “And you’ve treated her like shit for three months. Explain to me how that puts our relationships on the same level?”
Hurt flashes in Dec’s eyes, but Shane punches the bag again before he can say anything.
“It’s not about you, asshole! Of course we want you involved. We fucking invited you in. We’ve opened the goddamn door for you and put out a red carpet, but you’ve never told us if you’re in! And you’ve certainly never fucking talked to her about it!”
Dec’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly. If I wasn’t so stressed out by all the yelling, I would laugh. The glimpse of humor dries up, however, when Dec’s gaze falls.
“You’re right,” he says, his voice small. “Fuck, Shane, you’re right.”
He scrubs his hands over his face, then leans forward to prop his elbows on his knees. “I was scared on that plane. Scared of losing what I got a glimpse of with Lex, with both of you. And worried as fuck about you two getting hurt.”
“Not your call,” I say.
They both turn to me, Dec with a frown and Shane a picture of exasperated rage.
“It’s not your call, Dec. Worry about you, okay?” I glance between them, heart pinching. “I can’t watch more of this, so I’m gonna go.”
I can hear Dec get to his feet as I start up the stairs, but Shane must stop him because I don’t hear any footsteps behind me. As I reach the kitchen, I pull my phone from my pocket.
Me: still up for that run?
Lex: Yes, please
Me: usual route?
I tap my foot as I wait, hoping she says yes. She canceled on me a couple of times over the last week, and she asked me to meet her in different locations more than once. I suspect she’s keeping her distance, but after what happened on the flight, I don’t blame her.
Lex: Yeah. It’s already been a day.
Me: we could stay in instead
Me: i have some ideas for how to relax you
Lex: Cute. I’ll see you at 6:15?
Me: so is that a no on the sensual massage, or…?
Lex: See you soon, Linc.
She hearts my massage text. I take it as a good sign. Before Dec shot all our plans to hell in a blaze of fiery glory, I wanted to tell Lex how I felt on our first run back from Paris. My brother dropped a bomb on us all, though, and the opportunity hasn’t presented itself. Yet. Good things come to those who wait, right?