“Busy. But fully enjoying the occasional garroting and Bartitsu,” he lets me know creepily. He really likes punishing donors.
“Stop wiggling, or you’re going to get a smooch, too,” Lori threatens me just as I hear a low growl coming from the slightly open window.
“What’s that? You got a tiger loose on campus?”
“I roll my eyes at him. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that sound, though. It must be one of the students screwing around.
“How are things back home?” I address my brother as Lori finally pulls back.
It’s Ollie’s turn to hug me. He presses his forehead to mine like he’s been doing since we were kids. He knows the familiar gesture has the power to ground me. I release a relieved breath, and some of the uneasiness I was feeling on my way back here disappears.
“Home? Nothing new apart from the handsomeness overload,” Lori answers instead, releasing a dramatic sigh. “Ezra and Uri in the same room is stroke-inducing.”
I know that. Not because of Uri, though. It’s weird how I only feel attracted to Ezra when they are identical twins. Thankfully, my brother moves back to the shelves as I try to calm myself, even though only hearing his name makes my pulse race.
“Do I need to remind you about your engagement to Gabe and Bez?” I taunt Lori, knowing already that I don’t. He’s crazy about his men.
“Puh-lease. The wedding planning is taking a toll on me.” He places the back of his hand over his forehead, assuming the perfect theatrical pose of a damsel about to faint.
“And me,” Ollie interjects, still building the book rack. We are brothers, but we don’t look very similar. Where I’m long-limbed and lithe, he is toned with sleek muscles. My hair is dark, while Ollie’s is light brown. He is brave and bold; I am cautious and weak.
“I think I’m stress-ovulating,” Lori suddenly and unfortunately states.
“You are just nuts,” I say, setting my messenger bag on the desk chair.
“Am I? But you are the one who left this at my place.” He takes his hand out of his pocket, pointing his middle finger at me.
Instead of telling him off, I feel a little bubble of melancholy swell in my chest. I miss this. This everyday nonsensical banter I used to share with them. But things couldn’t stay the same. They already changed when Ollie met Rague, and then Lori moved in with Gabe. Now it’s my turn.
“Did you bring Pink?” I ask, while looking around. I don’t see any sign of my cat, though. Ollie usually brings her with him; he knows how much I miss her.
“No, sorry. I came straight from work,” he tells me, hammering away. He turned veryhandsysince he started working with Rague. They own a construction and demolition company, though Ollie has mostly been working in the office since he got a degree in accounting and business administration.
“You know what that means, right?” I raise a brow at him.
Fuck no!he communicates through ourlook conversation. He drops the tools, straightens up, and takes a step back. “I couldn’t take Pink with us; the car was full of wooden boards.”
Fuck yes,I counter.I haven’t seen Pink in two weeks.
Fuck no! You’ll come home this weekend and see her then,Ollie tries, and I almost yield.
Almost.I know there was space in the car, you just didn’t want to go all the way to your home to get her, you lazy ass.
I should be grateful he came here and tried to make my room cozier but I feel a little down.
“Stop with the creepy eye convo!” Lori grabs his phone out of his bag and aims it at Ollie, starting a video. “Sully-doo is right. Apology dance time,” he singsongs. “Go!”
“Really?” My brother turns to me with a cringy expression. I nod, already anticipating what’s about to come.
“Shake that booty!” Lori cheers.
“Forget the best, I’ll be the worst man at your wedding!” he retorts lamely. He then glares at me just before starting to twerk and flail his arms, looking like one of those inflatable tube men outside shops.
It’s something we do for each other as a form of apology instead of actually saying the words. Ollie is not really the emotional type; humiliating each other suits both of us better. It…works.
Lori is bent in half, shaking with laughter, but still manages to keep his phone up to film my brother’s ridiculously and extremely awful performance.
Then, the off-key singing begins, “I’m naughty, I’m bad like Michael J. said. You were right, and I was…wrong. I won’t forget where I belong.”
