We both tip our heads back to view the alcove above the kitchen.
Gen and I have a single bedroom, but there’s a small loft above the kitchen with a sketchy pull-down ladder.Neither Gen nor I wanted to risk our lives to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, so we share the queen downstairs.
“Leave your stuff here; there’s not much space up there.”
His gaze is dubious.“Is there a bed?”
“There’s a full mattress on the floor.You’ll be fine.”
Tyler digs into his duffel, already spilling stuff across our living room floor.
“Tyler, our place is small.Rein in the clutter.”
He bites into the bar he unearthed from his crusty bag and scratches his flat belly.“Can’t.Not my nature.”
This argument’s a losing battle.He’s totally right and sometimes I wonder how he manages to attract as many women as he does.Physically, I suppose he’s good-looking.His hair is wavy and a little longish and hipster, especially when paired with his dark reading glasses.I’m not going to call the colorred, because he’d kill me and it’s not totally accurate.Let’s call itchestnut—a medium brown with red highlights.Lots of red highlights.Neither of us are carrot tops like our mother, and I am forever grateful for our father’s plain brown hair in that respect.
Tyler and I both have pale blue eyes, and that’s probably our most redeeming physical quality.I often get complimented for mine by the opposite sex.I assume he does too.Add to that a six-foot-two athletic build, and I suppose some women might find him attractive, if you look past his slovenly ways, flash temper, and myriad other annoying habits I’ve had to live with all my life.
As a brother, though, he’s protective, funny, and loyal, and I’m really happy he’s here.
Over the nextcouple of days, Tyler and I hit our favorite food spots and he visits me at the casino.He brought his mountain bike, so when I’m sleeping in the a.m.after working late, he entertains himself on the trails with a buddy who still lives in town.
Having Tyler around has been good for my morale.He keeps me distracted, and he has no patience for mopers.He’s highly vocal about it too, usually in the form of an insult that pisses me off and snaps me from my depression.
The weekend’s almost here and I’m working tonight, but Tyler has dropped in for a visit.He’s gambling at my table and I’m kicking his ass, which is sweet music because he always beat me at cards growing up.
“Damn, Cali, when did you become a shark?”
I’m trying to act professional, but I can’t help shooting Tyler a smug look when my customers aren’t looking.I have three decks in my dispenser, which reduces a player’s ability to make predictions.Tyler counted cards when we were kids, but three decks is a lot, even for him.
Despite my best intentions not to, I’ve obsessed over asking Tyler about Jaeger.I don’t want to give my brother the wrong impression.Knowing him, he’d assume I had a thing for his buddy and get all overprotective.But it’s been long enough since Tyler arrived that I think it’s safe to venture onto the subject.
My last customer saunters off and I deal Tyler another hand, ever-so-casually saying, “So, I think I ran into one of your friends from high school.Do you remember that athlete, Jaeger?”
“Who?You mean Jaeg?”
Jaeg.That’s why his name was familiar, but not.He went by a nickname in high school.“Isn’t he the one you said was going to the Olympics?”
“For skiing.Of course I remember him—he was one of my best friends.But he’s not going to the Olympics—or he didn’t go.”Tyler swipes his hand on the felt table for a hit, and then hits again after I deal the card.He busts with a king, a three, and a nine.“Shattered his knee.Dropped off after that.”
So that’s how Jaeger’s sports career ended.I saw the scar on his knee at the beach but was too busy appreciating his body in swim trunks to think anything except that the scar looked rugged and manly.Athletes are intense about their sports.Olympic athletes border on obsessive.It had to have been difficult for Jaeger to start over.My brother is by no means a champion athlete, but even he gets aggro when it comes to training on his bike.
Jaeger’s new wood-whittling profession should reduce his appeal, but for some reason it doesn’t.I’m not sure if it’s the effort it must have taken to reinvent himself that appeals, or if it’s just him, in whatever form, that I’m attracted to.And that scares me.It’s too soon for me to pursue someone else.
“What’s Jaeg up to?”my brother asks.“I’ve lost touch with him over the years, but it would be great to see him again.”
“His friend works here.”I point to Mason at the East Bar.“Gen and I have hung out with them a couple of times.”
Tyler pockets his remaining chips and stands, glancing at Mason’s bar.Only a couple of customers hover in front of him at the moment.“I’ll talk to your friend and find out about Jaeg.Maybe we can get together before I go home.”
The idea of me, Tyler, and Jaeger in the same room is unnerving.I’m hoping Tyler’s plans with Jaeger do not include me.The last thing I want is for Tyler to pick up on my attraction to his friend and give me a hard time about it.
Tyler sidles up to my table a little while later, but I’m busy and can’t talk.It’s not until the next day that he brings up his conversation with Mason.
He pulls milk out of the fridge and drinks from the carton like the animal he is, while I paint my toes on the kitchen floor a couple of feet away.“What’s on the docket for tonight?”
He shoves the milk back on the shelf—mental note:Throw out carton with Tyler germs—and drums his fingers on the counter.The high energy he’s exuding leads me to believe he has something in mind.
