Alex keeps smiling, but I remember there’s bad news, and I furrow my brows. “Wait, what’s the bad news?”
She grins wider, bending down slightly for emphasis, and opens her eyes wide as if she is about to tell a huge secret. “Wesoldallthe paintings in the gallery, Nate.” She lets out a slight squeal at the end as she jumps in the air like a lunatic.
My head swirls as I almost fall off my seat, reaching out to the wall to steady myself.
“Fuck… what? Sorry, what?”
“The collection sold out,” Alex says.
“That’s good, right?” Matt asks.
Alex laughs. “It’s great. Amazing even. But now he needs to paint a whole new collection.”
Shaking my head, I exhale and run my hand through my hair. “Who bought them all?”
“A heap of people. They’ve been streaming nonstop.”
“Fuck! What if I can’t keep up? I only have a couple of dozen finished paintings back here.”
“Well, the band doesn’t have anything happening at the moment. So be here, paint, put your love of art and the misery of missing Ria onto the canvas, and get your business up and running. Alex is obviously too good at her job, so you need to get ahead before we need to take off again.” He gives me a wide smile. “Be here… paint, Nate. I’ll keep tabs on the Recoil side of things while you get lost in acrylic or whatever you paint with.”
“Thanks, Matt, this means a lot.”
Matt’s voice is steady, warm. “I know it does. That’s why I’m supporting you. I will always support you, Nate.”
Before I can even respond, Alex claps her hands together. “We need to celebrate.”
Matt’s instantly on board. “Yes! We do.”
I groan, sinking further into my chair. “No, I have to get to work.”
Alex scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Work schmerk, you can start tomorrow, boss. Tonight, we gotta celebrate. You, your hunk of a brother, and me. The three amigos, the three musketeers, the dueling banjos plus… another banjo. Fuck, I don’t know. Don’tmake me keep making up stupid puns. Just fucking get your mopey ass out of that chair and walk down the street to Finlay’s.”
“Finlay’s?” Matt asks.
“The Irish pub down at the end of the street,” Alex clarifies.
Matt grins. “Yes! I’m so down for that. Alex, you might just be an angel.”
She laughs, her eyes bright. “I’ve been called far worse. I’ve been called far better, too. So you have a ways to go there, sexy twin,” she sings, and Matt chuckles.
He tilts his head, amused. “Better? Than an angel?”
“It was something like… God… oh God… yes, yes, God… you get my drift?” she says, raising her brows with that damn smirk before tossing him a wink.
I roll my eyes.Of course, she went there.
Matt clears his throat, shifting awkwardly, and I swear I can see the way his brain short-circuits for a second. Alex must notice too, because she giggles and slaps his arm playfully.
He flinches a little—nothing obvious, but I catch it. Then she spins on her heel and heads for the door, a satisfied grin on her face.
I glance back at my brother, who’s still watching her walk away like his brain’s buffering. His expression is somewhere between confusion and arousal.
“What the fuck is going on in that head of yours right now, bro?” I ask.
He exhales, eyes still on the door. “I have no fucking clue.”
I guess that’s the Alex effect, she rampages in like a hurricane, then just as quickly she leaves you in her wake with you having no clue what the fuck just happened.
