Chapter 3
WOLF
“Well, the last rounds you had me do weren’t completely without incident,” I say to Forest as I pull out one of the dark cherry chairs from the table. I look toward the bar and tilt my chin up at Vanessa, a sign to bring me my usual IPA.
Forest pauses with his beer bottle halfway to his lips. “So that’s what took you so long? Well, I had to deal with the over-privileged, self-important fathers of all four of those little shits, so boo fucking hoo.” He finishes by taking a hearty pull.
I take a seat facing Forest and the flatscreen behind him. The Crushers are in the fourth inning. Having my back to the rest of the bar and my focus on the game helps me manage all the stimuli.
“What the hell happened, then?” he asks loud enough that Hawk and River both glance our way from the nearby pool table.
“Had to write a girl a couple fishing citations.” I shake my head and glance at the game—nothing new to see here—but all I’m really seeing is a petite brunette spitfire in a Crushers ball cap with a rush of golden-brown hair coming out the back.
That doesn’t fly with my nosey-ass brothers, though, as evidenced by the hard thud that resounds in the chair as River appears next to me.
“The fuck?” I lean back, regarding him.
“Did you say girl?”
“What the hell is this—a middle school slumber party? Yes, girl or young woman, whatever you want to call her.” I shake my head again, irritated. And when the three dipshits exchange disbelieving looks, I’m forced to add, “Women break laws too.”
“Maybe, but they don’t usually get caught,” River points his pool cue towards me.
“Well, she did. Now resume playing with your balls in your pockets.” I jerk my head back at the pool table.
“Well, if I ever caught a woman breaking the law,” Hawk moseys to the table, letting the floor support the end of his pool stick, “I can’t say I’d write her a ticket.” He lowers his eyelids to half-mast and gives us a sly look, but it’s all bravado.
Vanessa sets my beer down in front of me. “What are you idiots blabbering about?” she asks as she straightens up and wipes the condensation onto her jeans.
“Ticket-happy Wolf over here,” Hawk supplies, lazily waving his hand at me. “I’m surprised he wasn’t the hall monitor back in school.”
“Or grow up to be an overzealous mall cop,” River adds as he shoots the cue ball to clack against the four, knocking it into a corner pocket.
“You guys need to lay off,” she informs them. “Once upon a time I was going to marry this guy.” She looks at me, her curly dark hair swinging as she gives me a sweet, half-lidded look. “Or did you all forget?”
The elevator in my chest drops downward at the weird memory that sums up my dating history.
“We didn’t, but I’m pretty sure he did.” River grins, sticking his tongue out between his teeth.
“Ohhh, Vanessa…baby.” Hawk drapes an arm around her before jutting his chin at me. “You were totally barking up the wrong twin there.”
She drops her head back, looking at the ceiling. “As I recall, the other twin was very much taken.” Hawk’s face turns to stone, but she doesn’t notice as she lifts her head and looks at me again. “Besides, this one’s more handsome.”
“The truth hurts,” I say to Hawk.
Despite being twins, Hawk and I couldn’t be less alike. His hair is a lighter shade of brown than mine, and he has brown eyes, whereas mine are green. While I’m very much reserved, his personality should have its own website.
“Fuck off, she still wised up and dumped your ass in the end,” Hawk reminds me because he’s got nothing else.
Vanessa turns to place her hand flat against Hawk’s chest, pushing him out of her personal space. “Quit playing it up, loser. It fizzled out. I got tired of waiting for him to notice me, end of story.”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you won’t see me chasing tail like my brothers.
It’s not that I don’t want to be with anyone, I can’t take the games that must be played when pursuing a relationship.
The truth is, I liked Vanessa, but not enough to open up to her more than anyone else.
I didn’t know what she wanted, and she wasn’t inclined to communicate.
Later, I found out that’s how most girls operate.
What separated me from my brothers? I wasn’t willing to do the guess work.
Vanessa hikes a thumb toward the bar. “Duty calls,” she says and strides away.
Hawk turns back to the pool table. “You never go home with a lady,” he mutters, his back to me, not bothering to look up from lining up his shot. “And I’ll bet both balls it’s because you need to unclench.”
“Not like you’re using them anyway,” I note, leaning back and draping both elbows over the back of my chair, earning a few laughs from nearby tables. When my brothers get on my ass about my sex life, it’s time to head out.
I take a chug of my beer, hoping to speed up the process, but when I set the glass down, my gaze doesn’t return to the game.
Instead, it catches on the golden-brown ponytail of a woman sitting at the corner table.
I stare for a moment, trying to assess her identity as several ladies approach her table.
She turns swiftly, sending her hair swishing away from her face and revealing light blue eyes instead of a warm and captivating hazel.
I snap my head away and look down at my beer, then lift it up and examine the bottom of the glass as I let the cold hops hit the back of my throat.
“Wolf.” My oldest brother says—the one who doesn’t have his ego up his ass—gets my attention. “I’m not trying to agree with Hawk of all people, but you could do worse than Vanessa.”
“She is nice, but just because everyone thinks I’m broken doesn’t mean I should settle for nice.” Forest means well, but even he needs to be reminded from time to time.
“I just mean I’d like to see you end up with someone who deserves you. And no one thinks you’re broken.” His eyes land on Hawk, and he swiftly looks back at me. “Fuck Hawk.”
“No thanks,” I shoot back, not bothering to point out that plenty of people think I’m broken, including me. Not useless, just not up to factory standards where social skills and emotional interaction are concerned. So I keep those features in the off position and tend to not worry about them.
Forests’ lips are in a flat line and stress still lines his forehead, but he gives a curt nod as the table of ladies gets louder with laughter. I flinch slightly when one of them lets out a particularly pitchy cackle.
“Gentleman, I think it’s officially happy hour.” River arrives at my right side, pool cue abandoned. His eyes assess the group of ladies, and I take another quick look over. Good God, they’re all dressed in plaid shirts of varying pastel colors and done up like they’re prepping for a photo shoot.
“Tourists,” Forest says.
That’s the only word Forest needs, as it translates to won’t be here long.
It’s his drug of choice when it comes to women.
And the way these ladies are dressed and looking around in wonder, I’d peg them for city girls trying to change things up.
Spoiler alert: They are likely to determine the outdoors isn’t for them after getting a little dirt on their ninety-dollar jeans and gagging on the smell of bug spray.
Hooking up with one of my brothers might make one of them want to try to stick it out, but chances are, they’ll pack up their designer suitcases and head out three days early.
“I say we give Wolf first dibs.” Hawk smirks down at me from where he stands with his beer.
“No thanks,” I mutter as I feel the microscope I’m sitting under zoom in closer, making my skin feel tight as I shift uncomfortably.
I casually rise from my seat, indicating I need a refill to escape tension buzzing through me in unpleasant spurts.
Crowds overwhelm me, and yet everyone is on me not only to be more social but also to fall in love or get laid.
Their hounding is starting to chap my ass, and sooner or later I’m going to snap.
I need to get away from them just so I can breathe.
“Surprise, surprise,” Hawk murmurs under his breath.
I don’t give a fuck about his words so much as the disapproving look in his eye. “Fuck off,” I grumble at him, unable to help myself.
He leisurely swivels to face me, his features pulled together in frustration. “What the fuck do you have against acting like a typical human?”
I tip my head back to regard him under the bill of my hat, my eyes willing him to say more.
When we were growing up, adults viewed me as different, and kids called me weirdo or freak.
It always bothered my twin more than it did me, and it still does.
I hook a thumb in my jeans pocket and let my foamy pint glass hang at my other side, waiting patiently.
Hawk’s head oscillates side to side as his eyes shift anywhere but on mine. “You’re such a fucking buzzkill,” he says with a despondent sigh.
“Eh, go fuck yourself.” I chuckle mockingly move in the direction of the bar then whisper, “That’s all you’re going to end up doing anyway.”
I end up dropping my glass off at the bar and paying my tab before heading back to my cabin to finish watching the game.
An evening with my own company and a glass of whiskey is much more enjoyable.
Loud noises coming from various sources tends to be too much for me anyway.
After a while it stops being harmless background noise and makes everything in my body feel tight, and I can’t manage more than one-word answers, if any.
When the game concludes with a satisfying nine to four win, I change out of my jeans and into a pair of sweats and help myself to a second glass of Jack Daniels.
Deciding to enjoy it under the stars, I shove my feet into a pair of sneakers by the door and venture outside under the dark blue blanket of night sky spattered with bright white stars.
I make my way up the dirt path to the top of the hill, where one of our communal patios awaits.
Rhythmical growling comes from Forest’s cabin, a sure sign he’s with his tourist of the week.
For Forest, tourist season equals mating season, which is most of the year.
A place as beautiful as this offers recreation for every season.
The moon casts a shaft of light blue onto the patio and the Adirondack chairs encircling a cinderblock fire pit.
I set my whiskey glass down long enough to grab a couple of logs and get a small fire going before snatching the drink back up and dropping into one of the chairs.
For a flash, I envision a beauty with brown hair and hazel eyes that reflect the firelight settling into one of the empty chairs next to me.
But if she were there, what would I say? What would I do?
Tipping my head back, I take in one of my favorite views: the silhouetted treetops etched around the starlit sky like a frame.
The picture reminds me of something from a children’s book, and the amount of stars out here in the wilderness—it’s like you’re sitting in the middle of a galaxy.
You won’t find this view in a city, and I often feel that it’s all I need in this life.
I let out a long exhale, releasing the toxic thoughts along with it.
Giving in to the tranquility, my body relaxes as I sip my whiskey and enjoy the dancing orange flames.
My mind drifts, floating back to the river, to a pair of blazing hazel eyes with an owner who bitched me out.
Without meaning to, the corner of my mouth tips up in a smile, something I rarely do, as I shake my head at the recent memory.
It was just an unusual meeting on an otherwise typical day, so move past it.
But twenty seconds later, I’m right back there again.
Damn. I forget most women until the next time I see them, but this one has been invading my thoughts all night. What I don’t expect is how I welcome the visions, letting them take part in my peaceful reverie.