“Why do you do it?”
“Can we drop this, please? We haven’t seen each other in two weeks, and I want to enjoy myself, not be lectured to.”
“Fine, but I’ll say one last thing. Don’t let what he did break you. I’ve finally gotten you back after all these years. Don’t slip away again.”
“I won’t. Promise.” Shutting him down, Noah drank his wine and said nothing more. From experience, Jeremy knew better than to press his brother. He’d only withdraw further. On the outside he had the perfect life: he was stunningly gorgeous despite the slight scars from the assault and had a wonderful career that included not only his radio show but volunteer work at a clinic for disenfranchised young people as well. But Jeremy knew the dark loneliness inside his brother, and not being able to help killed him. Noah came first in Jeremy’s life, even before his own well-being.
JJ, Nora’s son, came by their table to take their order.
“Hi, guys. How’s it going tonight?”
“Good, good. What’re you recommending?” Jeremy took a sip of his wine and waited for the specials.
“For appetizers, we have eggplant rollatini and some nice mussels in a white wine and garlic sauce. For mains, how about chicken parm? Or Mom can make you some rigatoni primavera if you don’t want anything too heavy.”
“I’ll take the rigatoni.” Noah handed over his menu. “And the mussels and eggplant both sound perfect, right, Jer?”
“Yeah. And I’ll take the chicken parm since I only had sushi last night.”
“Perfect. Thanks, guys. I’ll be back with the appetizers in a few.”
They sat for a moment drinking their wine. When Jeremy had crunched down another breadstick, Noah quirked a brow.
“Okay. Out with it.”
“What?”
“You’re nervous about something. And when you’re nervous you eat. Case in point.” He tipped his chin to the breadstick in Jeremy’s hand. “That’s the fourth breadstick you’ve gnawed through in three minutes.”
“Damn, you’re keeping track?” He set the offending breadstick down. “And I’m not nervous.” He took a drink of his wine.
After gazing at him steadily for a moment or two with a finger tapping his chin, Noah broke into a smile. “I got it. You’ve met someone.”
“How do youdothat?” Flustered, Jeremy could’ve smacked himself upside the face for giving up so easily.
“Never mind that. Tell me about them.”
Jeremy bit into his breadstick, chewed, and swallowed. “Not much to tell. I met him during the snowstorm Friday evening, and we had dinner last night.”
“Oh? So not someone from the gym.”
“No. He’s not into fitness, really. I mean, he’s got a good build and everything, but he doesn’t work out.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s an accountant.”
Noah’s eyes widened over his wineglass. “You’re kidding.”
Defensive, Jeremy shifted in his chair. “Why? You think someone like him wouldn’t want to go out with me?”
“Don’t be an asshole,” Noah said, irritably. “You need to get that chip off your shoulder that people think you’re dumb because you run a gym. I get it. People looked at me like I was nothing when I was a model. It’s your job to show them what’s beneath the perfect smile and hair.”
“You think my hair is perfect?” Jeremy teased, and Noah threw an unopened butter pat at him.
“Stop deflecting. And I’m surprised because you’re the one who always goes out with those gym bunnies, both men and women. I’m glad to see you’re broadening your horizons.”
“We’re not getting married. We’re dating, is all.” He stared into the ruby depths of his wine. “Blake—that’s his name—wants to take it slow. Nothing physical yet.”
