Making myself comfortable, I grab a snack-sized bag of popcorn from the basket on top of her mini-fridge and sit on the plush area rug with my back against the worn leather couch.
The rhythmic clicks of her fingers hitting her keyboard are comforting as we sit in silence, her finishing whatever she’s working on and me crunching on the snack I just stole and using my thumb to spin my ring.
“How are you feeling over there, Punk Princess? Ready to take the leap?” she says a few minutes later, closing her laptop.
I swivel my head to look at her. She’s organizing the papers she had strewn across her desk. “I’m okay. It’s a relief knowing Dylan is gone so Gareth and I can have a couple of uninterrupted weeks to figure this out.”
“I don’t think there’s much for you to have to figure out. That man is clearly obsessed with you, and by the looks of it, the feeling is mutual. I sense a lot of banging in your future.”
My pussy flutters just thinking about Gareth and Ibanging.
It’s been a long time coming.
Movement from the other side of the floor-to-ceiling one-way glass that lines her office wall catches my attention, and I turn and watch Cain walk in with King. Cain flips the lights on, then goes behind the bar as King takes a seat on a stool. Two lowball glasses are placed on the bar top, and Cain pours them both a drink before leaning forward on his elbows and clanking his glass against King’s.
“How did you know Cain was the person for you?” I muse aloud.
For me, I knew the second I met Gareth, and I can’t help but wonder if my friend had the same experience.
Rosie stands, coming around the couch to sit next to me on the floor. For a moment, we’re both quiet, watching Cain and King who are now deep in conversation.
“I’ve never told you all of our history, have I?” she asks lightly. The tone catches me off guard, and I look at her, but her eyes are trained on her husband.
I shake my head even though I know she’s not watching me. “No, but I definitely can sense you guys have a wild story.”
This pulls her mouth into a smile. She turns to me. “Cain is my ex-boyfriend’s brother. I dated Brent when we were barely old enough to call ourselves adults and ended up moving with them from Northwood out to here. The three of us rented a place together, all of us looking for a fresh start, but Cain’s brother was just a means to an end for me. I knew he wasn’t endgame, but I needed to get away from my hometown—get away from mylife. There was something about Cain that always called to me. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt itdeeply, and I knew I was in love withhim.” She looks adoringly through the glass at her husband again, and I can practically feel her love radiating through her. Then she turns back to me with sad eyes. “But Brent was my boyfriend, so I felt like I owed it to him to try and make things work. Unfortunately, I was dealing with a verbally abusive narcissist. Eventually I reached my breaking point, begged Cain to come with me, but he chose the loyalty of his brother instead. Honestly, our story is a little like yours.”
I nod, my heart sinking. I glance over at Cain and can’t help but feel like I relate even better to him now—I know the exact struggle he went through. “He chose his brother,” I mutter more to myself than to Rosie.
Turning my head with her finger pressed below my chin, she looks me straight in the eyes. “In the end, love always wins, Indy, and at some point, you have to surrender to it and not give a damn about what anyone else might think. Even if that someone is your brother. Listen to your heart.” She starts laughing as she glances through the window back out at the bar, a huge smile transforming her face. “Yeah, he’s definitely obsessed with you.”
I follow her line of sight and see a man walking through the doors carrying a huge bouquet of black and pink roses and a gift-wrapped box.
Cain and King stand simultaneously and approach the guy who now looks like he might piss his pants from the two bikers boxing him in. The man practically flinches as King reaches to sign for the package.
It’s obvious it’s for me when they both turn and walk in the direction of the office after making sure the delivery man is out of the bar.
“What do you think is in the box?” she asks curiously.
I shrug, honestly having no idea. When we were kids, Gareth would leave little gifts in my room—notes, candy, trinkets that reminded him of me.
“Could be anything. I have no clue.”
“What time do you need to be at the game?”
“It starts at four, so I was going to call for an Uber around three-thirty. I don’t want to get there early and seem too eager.”
“You should be eager! You’re going to a Bears game, sitting in the VIP box,andyou’re gonna bang the third baseman tonight. I don’t see why you wouldn’t be excited about that.”
I laugh, and the door to the office flies open.
“I’m not saying I like the guy,” Cain announces as he walks into the room, “but these roses are impressive.”
“Oh, stop,” Rosie scolds. “You have no reason not to like him. Plus, if Indy likes him, then he is a friend tous. Don’t question it.”
“He got up in my face.” Cain narrows his eyes at Rosie. “He’s lucky I didn’t deck him square in the nose.”
“In his defense,” she argues, “he thought you were banging his girl.”
