“So there’s actually something we wanted to talk to you about,” I say, and Jaylen nods up at me.
“Let me guess. You want to hire Harper as the head bartender at the speakeasy. Listen, if you didn’t suggest it, I was going to,” he says.
“That’s not what we need to talk to you about,” Harper says softly. Her tone is easier to read than mine. Sibling intuitionkicks in, and Jaylen’s smile fades from his face; concern replacing it.
“What is it?” he asks, getting right to the point.
“Before we start talking, I want you to know,wewant you to know, we had no intention of this happening,” Harper says. I keep a sharp eye on Jaylen. If fists are going to fly, I want to see it coming so I can dodge it and make sure Harper is out of the way.
“I’m not really sure where this is going, but if it’s headed in the direction I think it is, I recommend you do a U-turn fast,” he says.
I step in.
“We’ve been seeing each other,” I say flatly.
Jaylen blinks, then reaches for his beer. “How long?”
“Since the wedding. Mine, not Daniel’s. Well, not Daniel’s second wedding,” Harper is stumbling over her words like her shoes are tied together.
“Since Costa Rica,” I say.
Jaylen takes a second to think about that. “So, the whole time you were shacked up together…you wereshacked up together,” he says, sucking his teeth.
“No,” Harper says. “It’s not like that.”
His eyes land on her, hot and hard. “No? Alright, tell me, sis. Whatisit like then? Because it sounds to me like you’re telling me that my best friend and my sister are fucking around.”
“We’re dating,” I state. “I care about her.”
Harper looks at me, and her expression softens a little. I take the risk of grabbing her hand. Because honestly, as shitty as I know this is for him, I care more about comforting her than I do about pussyfooting around his feelings.
“I’m sorry we didn’t say anything sooner, Jay,” Harper says with a shaky voice.
“She wanted to, but I wanted to wait,” I say in her defense.
“Wait until what?” he spits out, but his tone is less agitated than it was before.
“Wait until I get the balls to do it,” I say. It’s a white flag. A Hail Mary. It’s me rolling the ball into his court and standing down, but standing next to her.
Jaylen takes a second, sips his beer, and then finally, after a good two minutes, speaks. “I had a feeling,” he says.
“You did?” Harper asks.
He snorts. “Yeah. I mean, you two are pretty obvious. You with your complexion that can’t lie, and Ash with his jaw that twitches every time he’s uncomfortable.”
He almost sounds like he’s joking; like this is humorous. I don’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.
“So, you’re not mad?” Harper asks.
“Oh, I’m pissed,” he says, finishing off his beer. “I fucking hate it. But at the end of the day, you’re going to do what you’re going to do. I mean, clearly, you already have. Not accepting it would make me the asshole.”
“The next round is on me,” I say.
“Oh, you bet your fucking ass it is, and we’re leveling up from beer,” he says.
“You got it,” I say, allowing myself to smile a little.
“Okay. Well, I feel much better now,” Harper says with a crooked smile as she tries not to choke up. “But I also feel like I am going to puke. So I’m going to go freshen up. Or throw up. Or something.”
