Page 54

I lift my eyes from my phone to her. “Like that’s something I want to think about.”
“Have you talked to Ophelia?” she asks, grinning.
“Nope.”
“Ugh, you are both so frustrating.”
“And you’re annoying.” Completely done with having this conversation, I push her into the pool, fully dressed.
She pops up next to River who thinks it’s awesome to have a playmate in the pool. After a moment of shock passes, Scarlet shoots me a deadly glare. “Just for that, I’m driving you to the meeting today.”
“Ha,” I yell over my shoulder. “No you’re not.”
And she doesn’t. Shade and I take off on our Ducatis purposely while Scarlet’s in the shower. You’ve seen her driving abilities. It’s for the best.
IN L.A., SHADE and I talk our way around the logistics of financing with Willa and our financial advisors who are constantly telling us to slow down on the growth of the company. And our spending. Believe it or not, this is why we don’t invite Tiller. It has a lot to do with his attitude of fuck everything corporate, but he’s a tightwad. He hates spending his money. Bizarre, right? A guy who thrives on the wild excesses of what his lifestyle hands him, hates to spend money.
Sure, he spends it but when it comes to S3, he’s constantly in disagreement with us over where we should spend our allotted budgets. So we just don’t tell him when and where the meetings are and everything works out.
After the meeting, Shade and I stop for lunch at a nearby taco truck. That’s when he hits me with “I think I might ask Scarlet to marry me.”
I stop chewing, midbite, and stare at him. Anger is my first emotion. Followed quickly by pride. My little brother, the one who was so far off the deep end just a few years ago I feared he’d go down the slippery roads of addiction, is so in love with a woman he wants to marry her.
Swallowing the food in my mouth, I clear my throat. “That’s huge, bud. Ya sure?”
He shrugs, picking off every tiny piece of cilantro from his tacos. He hates it, even told them he didn’t want cilantro, but they still put it on there. “I think so. I mean, I love her. I can’t imagine a day without her crazy in my life.” He stops with the assault on his taco to look up at me. Worry clouds his eyes. “What do you think?”
“Are you asking as your brother or my thoughts on marriage?”
Raising his hand, he rolls his bottom lip between his fingers and then regards me with an uneasiness I haven’t seen from him in years. “Both, I guess.”
Do you know who taught this kid everything he knows about sex and love? Ricky. He taught us all how to put a condom on by throwing a box in our room and saying, “Cover your pipe.”
Didn’t help much so I taught Shade that you need to bag it up, and still take precautions. As for love, that just wasn’t in the cards for guys like us. In our lifestyles, you can’t trust that everyone isn’t after the material side of the relationship. It’s not impossible though. He’s definitely found it with Northwest, and in a weird way, Tiller’s in love with Amberly. So again, not impossible.
But marriage?
Ricky’s in his late forties and still not married. Does that tell you how we were raised?
I push the foil wrapper of my taco aside and then wad it up. Clenching it between my fist, I stare at it. The sun reflects off it and reminds me of the ring on Ophelia’s finger. I want to go as far as to lash out and tell Shade marriage is bullshit. Commitment is bullshit. Love is… relentless. And that’s why I say, “If you love her, marry her. Because if you don’t, she’ll find someone who will.”
With his sunglasses on now, I can’t tell if he’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind, or he’s considering what I said and taking it to heart. Dropping his hand to the picnic table we’re sitting at, he half smiles. “So what are you going to do?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Me?”
“Yeah, you. She’s marrying someone else. Don’t you think you should do something?”
Of course he’s making it about me. I glare at him. “Is that why you brought this up? Are you even thinking about proposing to her or was that all a stunt to get me talking?”
“No, no. I’m definitely thinking about it. I’m just curious what your plan is.”
I shrug, sigh, and then reach for my helmet on the table. “I don’t have one.”
“Yet.” He smiles. “You don’t have oneyet.”
I have to admit, there’s some truth to that. I’ll have one eventually. It might not be the one anyone’s expecting, but it’ll come.
Are you scared?