A brotherhood.
“I’ve been seeing someone,” he finally admitted. “A couple someones.”
“Dating, then?”
“Yes, but also…” My brother grimaced, downing the rest of his drink before smacking his lips together. “I was dating a married couple.”
Another unanticipated confession.
“Okay,” I said, because there wasn’t anything else. “Are you not now?”
“No.”
“Is this recent?”
He shook the ice around his glass and frowned. “Very.”
“For how long?” I asked.
“A few months.”
“When did it end?”
Sighing, Finn pushed himself up off the couch. He stretched and walked into my kitchen to mix himself another drink, then returned to the space beside me. He set his glass on the arm of the couch and finally finished rolling up his sleeves, then took a normal person-sized sip of whiskey.
“Today.” He sniffed a little, rubbed his nose with the knuckle on his thumb.
“Did you want to talk about it? Do you want to tell me their names?”
“Not really,” he mumbled. “Neil and Annette.”
“How did you meet them?” I asked.
Finn exhaled dramatically and angled his face toward mine. “Why did you call me? What didyouwant?”
There was no accusation in the tone, only the simple recognition that I’d needed something from my closest brother when I’d made the decision to dial his number and not Smith’s or Marshall’s. It was also a clear deflection that when he said he didn’t want to talk about Neil and Annette, he’d meant it.
“I’ve gotten involved with Silas’ best friend.”
Finn snorted and rolled his eyes at me. “Involved.”
“We’re seeing each other,” I corrected.
“I always expected Marshall to go for someone younger, but never pinned that taste onto you.”
I took a drink of vodka and then kicked Finn in the ankle.
Hard.
He grimaced and used his other foot to rub away the ache.
“He’s not even ten years younger than me, and I don’t even notice the difference most of the time.”
“Most of the time.”
“Ever.”
Finn puffed out his cheeks. “Go on.”
