“So,” Jake says, taking a pull from his beer. “What’s on your mind?”
I grunt, picking at the label of my beer.
“Is she hot?”
My brow furrows. “Where the hell did that come from?”
He shrugs. “You want to lie to the rest of the world, have at it, but you can’t lie to me, little brother.”
The scent of strawberries and sugar floods my mind.
“She’s…” I stop, realizing Jake’s watching me with a heightened interest. “My neighbor.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“It’s all that matters.”
He snorts. “Right. Because you’re so good with neighbors.”
“I’m not interested.” I have to say, I’m getting pretty damn good at this lying to myself thing.
“Bullshit. You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The same look you get when you’re trying to figure out a complicated wiring problem. Like you’re working through all the possibilities.”
He’s not wrong. I’ve been running through scenarios all day. What if I went to the party? What if she’s there? What if she’s not? What if she is, and she’s talking to someone else? What if Danny tries to set her up with Tom from 205, who’s definitely her type—stable, friendly, probably never yelled at her for delivering a fucking invitation?
“There’s nothing to figure out,” I say. “It’s one day. Tomorrow it’ll be over, and everything goes back to normal.”
“Normal being you avoiding the female population?”
I glare at him. “Normalbeing me not getting involved with someone who lives ten feet from my front door.”
Jake signals Heather for another round. When she brings the beers, she pauses, studying me. “You know what I think?”
“I didn’t realize I asked for your opinion with my beer,” I deadpan.
She ignores me. “You think staying alone protects you, but all it does is guarantee you’ll be miserable.” She glances between my brother and me. “Both of you, actually. When’s the last time either of you went on an actual date?”
“I date,” Jake protests.
“One-night stands after closing down the bar every six months don’t count.”
“I’m busy. Charter season’s starting soon, and—”
“And you,” She points at me. “You probably haven’t been with anyone since that disaster of a girlfriend. What’s it been, a year?”
“Two,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
“Jesus.” Heather shakes her head. “And now here’s a nice girl in your building who’s interested—”
“You don’t know she’s interested.”
Her lips purse. “You’re right. I forgot you’re pretending to be an idiot who can’t recognize a pretty opportunity when it’s literally standing in front of you.”
The sound of glass shattering has heads turning. The latest bartender addition curses under his breath, quick to clear the broken glass.
