Finn snorted, but his cheeks flushed. “That’s absurd.”
“Of course,” I agreed, having my answer.
Finn was an asshole sometimes, like Andrew had said, but it was a defense mechanism. I’d never met anyone who loved as hard and deep as Finn, but he was prickly about it. You had to break past the shell to get the gold, and he’d been locked up tight since his last breakup two years before.
“Tell me something interesting,” he said, taking a swig of bourbon. “I’ve had a long day.”
“Was the math being mean?”
“Don’t make me hold you in contempt,” he shot back.
“Literally not how that works, but good luck.”
“Would you just tell me something?” he asked again, dropping his head against the wall behind him.
“The Psittacosaurus is a dinosaur with quills.”
“The what now?”
“Psittacosaurus,” I repeated.
“Has what?”
“Quills,” I said.
“Like, for writing?”
“Like a porcupine.” I took a drink and watched my brother’s face as he tried to process what I’d just told him.
Eventually, Finn scrunched his nose and made a dismissive noise in the back of his throat. “I meant about you.”
There weren’t many interesting things about me. My name was Hunter Ethan Covington. I was thirty-five years old, my birthday was one month after Finn’s, same year. I graduated summa cum laude from USC with my J.D., and I’d been working as an attorney ever since. Contract law was boring, but it was helpful for all of my brothers, and I wasn’t miserable over the whole thing. Work was work for me, and I’d always managed to have a good work/life balance, even if my life was often the most boring part of my day.
Feeling bold, though, I took another swallow of my drink and gave Finn an answer I knew he wouldn’t believe.
“I came straight over here from a hotel. Met a man named John earlier tonight and came all over his chest for fun.”
That earned me a full body laugh and my brother pouring the rest of his drink down his throat. He slapped my knee and used my leg as leverage to get up from the window seat, clearly dismissing the truth as a lie, which was perfectly fine with me. Finn and I were close, the twins Marshall and Silas often called us, but that didn’t mean he knew everything about me.
“That’s a good one, Hunt.” Finn helped me up from the far too small bench seat, and we both made eyes at my right hip when it cracked a little too loudly. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
CHAPTER 3
LINCOLN
Silas had moved in with Marshall.
I knew it was coming. I’d told him to do it. But moving from our overstuffed two-bedroom apartment to a studio that only heldmythings was a lot like relocating a twin size mattress into a castle.
Silas insisted I keep most of the furniture we’d bought together because Marshall already had a house full of furniture. The studio didn’t require all of our furniture, though, so I’d unloaded a lot of it at the thrift store and made do with whatever was left.
The studio was spacious and angled in such a way I could tuck my bed into a corner and have some kind of privacy from the rest of the space. I’d turned the back of the loveseat toward the window so it faced the kitchen, a comfortable seat that doubled as a half-wall in the middle of the room. The kitchen was basically a counter against the wall, butting up to the door with a fridge and dishwasher, though the cabinet space was lacking so it ended up being the place I stored all my dishes.
I could have afforded something nicer, but the pay from my online work wasn’t always consistent. There was a steady base that hadn’t wavered, so I made sure the rent would be coveredby that amount. Anything else, I could find a way to supplement. Worst case, I could get a different job. I could do both for sure, and a steady paycheck that offered health insurance wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
I didn’t want to think about that, even though the alternative turned out to be thinking about Ethan and the way it had felt so fucking good to be told what to do for once. Scrubbing a hand down my face, I flopped backward onto my bed and stared holes into the ceiling. It was a new experience to be so utterly alone, but not just alone…also lonely. Before, even if Silas and I hadn’t been doing something together, I hadn’t been alone. Hadn’t been lonely. The silence of my new apartment was deafening, and I reminded myself pushing Silas out had been the right thing.
He deserved to be with Marshall, and I sure as shit wasn’t going to be the one to stop that over something as childish as not wanting to live alone.
