“Got it,” Tia whispered, eyes flashing. She shimmied her shoulders and let out a tiny scream. “God!I can’t wait.”
“Please try to contain your enthusiasm,” Noah said dryly.
“It’s hard! I know he’s your brother, butgod. What a smug asshole. Remember that Thanksgiving where he did that impression of my grandma having a stroke? Ugh.” She finished her apple and stood, walking around them to get to the trash can. “Anything else, boss? Because I really want to brush my teeth.”
Noah looked at Benji. Benji looked back at him, incredulous, as if to askwhy the hell are you asking me if I have anythingelse to say about your shithead brother who’s getting me thrown out of my apartment?
“No,” Noah said. “We mostly stopped by because you’re on the way. We’re picking up Max from a friend’s house.”
“Cute!” Tia dropped the apple in her trash can, pausing to shove down a takeout container so it didn’t overflow. “He’s gonna love it at Noah’s. The first time I saw how big that TV was?—”
Benji cut her off. “We’re not staying with Noah. We’re finding a motel and putting everything in storage until we can find another apartment.”
Tia looked up. First at Benji, surprise flickering over her sparkly face. Then Noah, as if she knew exactly what he felt about all of this. How he was trying to be gracious about it, giving Benji time and space and respect, all the while fighting the urge to command Benji to move in with him anyway. Benji had already agreed to let him pay for a hotel. That would have to be enough for now.
Max’s enthusiasm at skipping a bus ride and getting to chat with Riona turned immediately to suspicion when Benji announced they were stopping somewhere for breakfast. By the time Benji agreed to get him an ice cream sundae to go with his pancakes, Max was squirming worriedly in the diner seat.
“Are you dying?” he blurted. “Last time you took me out for food, it was because Aunt Nat was sick.”
“No one’s dying,” Benji said, kicking him under the table. “Eat your fruit.”
Max stabbed a slice of banana with a fork, still watching the two of them curiously. “So, what’s the deal?”
“What, I can’t take my little brother out to breakfast?” Benji hunched over his BLT, chewing determinedly. “There’s no badnews. It’s just… annoying news. Inconvenient. In a month, it won’t even matter.”
“Okay,” Max said, eyes narrowing even further.
Benji sighed, reluctance written into every inch of his body. Noah itched to help. He kept cutting his toast into pieces instead. Benji had been pretty clear on not wanting Noah to intrude on Max’s life, so he wasn’t.
“We’re moving out in two days,” Benji admitted. “We’ll be staying at a hotel while we look for a new place?—”
But Max was already groaning, loud enough that a couple at another table glanced over. “What?Why?”
Benji snorted. “The property manager said we were doing drugs.”
“SINCE WHEN?” Max yelled, making two more tables and a waitress glance over. Noah sent them a tight smile as Max continued, “This isbullshit. Fuck Jerry!”
“It’s fine,” Benji said over him. “We already found a motel. We’ll bring a suitcase, and the rest will go into storage until we find a place. But it does mean we have to spend the rest of today packing.”
Max whined and slumped over the table, his curly hair falling into his pancake syrup. “Ihatepacking.”
“I can help,” Noah offered.
Max dragged himself up, syrup sticking to his hair. He looked at Noah’s muscly arms and frowned. “Can we hire movers? You said we have money for a while.”
“We do,” Benji said, too fast. He looked nervous, like he hadn’t wanted Noah to hear the “for a while” part. Noah told himself not to be hurt—before last night, Benji hadn’t been sure if Noah was sticking around. It made sense that he’d tell his little brother not to get used to it. Noah would just have to show him that he should.
“So?” Max said. “Let the movers do it! JJ had movers at his last house. He said they handled everything while his parents stood around pointing! We can point!”
“We can handle it,” Benji said, scowling. Then, when Max rolled his eyes, “What, you want strangers touching your shit?”
“If it’s in abox, sure,” Max said, with the obvious tone that meant he would really like to call Benji an idiot. “We can pack it. They just move it. Better than hiring a trailer again. We don’t even have a car this time.”
Noah waited. He’d assumed Benji had mentioned the car thing yesterday. Obviously not.
“Actually,” Benji said. “We have a car now.”
Max’s shriek made the rest of the diners turn around. Noah smiled at them, hoping like hell that he was right about his brother abandoning his PIs after he got enough information on Benji. Or for that matter, paparazzi. The last thing he needed was a photo turning up of Noah smiling genially while Benji kicked his little brother under the table, both brothers hissing at each other to shut up.
