“Oh, I saw that the other day when I was scrolling through what to watch with Brian,” Lia says, talking about her boyfriend. “I suggested it, and he gave me the side-eye. We ended up watching some sports game.”
“Some sports game?” I laugh. “Not even sure what sport?”
“A ball was involved.”
“Well, that narrows it down.”
She chuckles. “Either way, I’d love to watch it. Shall we start it now? Bring our food over to the couch.”
“If you’re cool with that.”
She tips my chin up and, in a gooey voice, says, “Anything for my pickle.”
* * *
“Brian would have hated that documentary.”
That’s because Brian is a douche.
But I keep that comment to myself.
“Yeah, didn’t quite scream something Brian would have enjoyed.”
Lia shifts and then pokes my stomach. “You going to be okay? You’re usually a little more chatty when we watch documentaries.”
“Yeah, I was just thinking. I’ll be good, though.”
“You know, if you need to talk about it, I’m always here.”
“I know.” I take her hand in mine. “Thanks, Lia.”
She gives it a squeeze. “You’re welcome. Now get out of here and go to bed. You look like trash.”
I smirk. “Can always count on you to deliver the truth.” I pull her into a hug and give her a kiss on the top of her head. “Night, Lia.”
“Night, Pickle.”
I let go and then head to my apartment just as she closes her door. I strip out of my clothes, splash some water on my face, and then brush my teeth. Once I’m ready for bed, I plug my phone in to charge, slip under my covers—naked—and then place my hands behind my head and stare up at the ceiling.
The entire night, I kept wondering why I was so affected by this. I know Huxley will take care of it. I’ve been getting texts from him all night about how we’re going to make sure Gemma doesn’t speak another word about me, but even with that reassurance, I still feel . . . weird.
And I think it comes down to her attack on my character. Gemma attacked the one thing I take great pride in, and that’s being a good guy. Between my brothers and me, we all have different personalities.
Huxley is the grump, the domineering, the take-no-prisoners kind of guy.
JP is the funny one, the easygoing guy, the instigator at times.
And me . . . well, I’m the levelheaded—the sounding board—and the good guy.
So having my name slandered with vehement lies is just so fucking painful. I’ve worked so hard at being above reproach.
Respected.
Trusted.
And someone people could rely on.
For the most part, I’ve accomplished that, but this . . . this just makes me think that maybe I didn’t.
