Page 11 of Enemies with Benefits (Finding the Right Brother #1)

Jace glared at him, shooting me a filthy look before allowing himself to be pulled away, which left me with Moira, who was resolutely staring ahead rather than at anyone else.

Clearing my throat, I prepared another drink, this one stronger than the last, and after pouring, I shoved one into my sister's hand.

She didn't even glance at the drink or make a face when she took a sip and discovered it was mostly liquor.

"So," I began as I watched the two men talking in the lobby in low voices, with Kayden speaking carefully and Jace speaking rapidly, making sharp gestures. "Not that I necessarily think him being in your life was a good call?—"

"Don't," she said, finally turning to give me a hard look. "I know you can't stand each other, but that's between the two of you. And there's more to people than what you decide they are, so...don't."

"Noted," I said, continuing to stare because I knew it was making her uncomfortable.

It wasn't often my sister did something that she bothered to hide from people, which she most certainly had because, as far as I knew, she was the only one even to have a theory of who Micah's father could have been. "So?—"

"God, what?"

"So, you dated him, clearly slept with him at least once...how was he?—"

"Do not ."

"Fine, fine. You had a kid with him, knew it was him, and just...didn't tell anyone? Not even him?"

Her gaze flicked over to Jace, her lips becoming thin lines. "There were...reasons."

"Good ones?"

"I thought so."

"Do you now?"

"I...don't know."

"What, as in you're regretting it, or you're wondering if things might be different with him that you might need to tell him?"

"Both, either, and neither."

"Ah, as clear as mud then, got it."

She glared at me. “And don't you dare tell him just to get under his skin."

I stared at her, offended. "I would never."

"With anyone else, I’d say you'd never do anything so stupid and pointlessly mean, but," she glanced back at Jace, "you two are just..

.I don't know. I never understood what it was about him that brought out the worst in you, parts of you I didn't even know existed.

And I was just...so shocked when I talked to him, like, really talked to him for the first time.

Because he was nothing like the person he was when he was dealing with you.

The two of you...have an effect on each other.

I mean, for God's sake, look at you. Haven't seen each other in years, don't even cross paths, and then suddenly you're right back to antagonizing him, and he's right back to wanting to yank your head off.

So get pissed if you want, but I'm not taking any chances when it comes to the two of you. "

I still wasn't happy about the accusation, mostly because telling him would upset Moira and Micah's lives, which I would never do.

But...she had a point. From the moment the two of us had met in middle school, there had been an instantaneous.

..something. I'd never had a word for it until I discovered the idea of love at first sight, except between us, it had been its hard and intractable opposite, pure and unadulterated hatred.

Much like love at first sight, there had been no rhyme or reason to the feeling, but it had been as mutual as it had been instantaneous, and it had only grown stronger and deeper the more we dealt with one another over the years.

And as Moira had pointed out, that clearly hadn't abated.

"I won't be the one to tell him," I assured her, a little begrudgingly. "But uh, might wanna look out because it looks like his buddy might."

"Kayden, his partner."

"Partner?"

"Work. Cop, remember?"

"Oh. I thought they seemed pretty close. Never knew anyone who could get on his nerves and get away with it like that guy seems to."

"They are. Probably the only real friend Jace has ever had...they've been pretty much together since they joined the force."

"And you're, uh...not worried?"

"No. It might have been years?—"

"Eight or so in fact."

"But Kayden won't tell him."

"You sure?"

"Yes. He's going to come over here and want to talk to me."

"And how is he going to manage that without making Jace suspicious?"

A strange look passed over her face before she smiled. “Actually, you two have a lot in common. Now, if you were in his place...how would you manage it?"

I thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “I'd...he's gonna use me, isn't he?"

"I'd bet my next paycheck."

"A shame we're both betting on the same thing."

We watched the two men until finally they marched over, Jace's shoulders hunched as he stood behind Kayden, who was looking faintly amused.

If it weren't for the fact that anything and everything about Jace turned me off, I’d think the two of them could have made a pretty cute couple.

Jace had gotten big, a bit bigger than me, actually, and while his features were hard, there was a charm to them, especially when compared to the boyish features of his partner, who smiled brightly.

"So," Kayden began, looking me over. "Is it your bike?"

"Wow," I drew out with a snort, glancing at Moira, who rolled her eyes. "Subtle."

"I never said he was," she said with a shrug, pushing away from the bar. "Behave."

I rolled my eyes. “Look, she already gave up the game. I know you're a cop too. So if you want me to answer anything that I know damn well is to make your partner feel better, then you'll have to come back here with handcuffs, I'll bring the lube."

"I can't tell if you're hitting on me or fucking with me."

"It can be both."

"Ah, well...times like this I regret that God decided I should be straight because goddamn, you gay men pull no punches and I could be getting laid so damn much."

"Bi, for the record. And you could make numbers."

"What, you think I don't already?"

"You could make even more numbers if you're ever feeling curious."

"Jesus," Jace muttered as he rubbed his temple. "You're as horny now as you were in high school. Stop hitting on him, I'm never going to fucking hear the end of it, and also, gross."

"Jealous?" I asked lightly, knowing full well that he was going to do everything but take it lightly.

Sure enough, his nostrils flared. "Could you go even five minutes without being an asshole?"

"Probably not, or should I say, just as likely as you going five minutes without being an angry prick," I said, cocking my head. "Have you tried it before? Probably do great things for your blood pressure."

"Oh boy," Kayden said with a sigh, backing up. "That took less than five minutes."

"They've always been like this," Moira said from her place in the open doorway between the bar and the restaurant. "There's no point in trying to stop them."

"All you have to do is answer a simple question, but you have to turn it into some stupid game because you think it's funny to jerk people around," Jace said, ignoring the other two.

Which worked out perfectly for them, considering Kayden was taking the opportunity to retreat with Moira.

I was sure that conversation was going to be a lot more productive than the one Jace and I were going to have.

"First of all, yes, it is fun, especially when it's tweaking the nose of a self-important dickwad who thinks he can just march in and start demanding answers and.

..why? Because you're a cop? Well, my mom raised me with a perfectly healthy distrust and dislike of cops, so you can throw that out.

That just leaves, what? Our amazing, shared history?

Your stunning personality and overwhelming charm?

Because neither of those things exists. So, really, what reason do I have to answer your question?

Hell, why should I even bother giving you a friendly 'hello' when the last time I saw you was with a broken nose and my busted lip? "

"I did more than bust your lip."

"Yeah, the mild concussion was fun. How was your jaw?"

"Dislocated."

"Damn, I'd hoped for broken, ah well."

"Learn to hit harder, and maybe you would have."

"It's not my fault your jaw is made like the rest of your skull, thick, concrete, and solid all the way through."

"Or maybe you could have learned to hit a little harder."

"What? And risk breaking my hand on that thick skull? I don't think so. I needed it just in case you decided to start another stupid fight with me, you weren't guaranteed to win."

"Oh, and you were?"

"More than you."

Which was...a lie. There was no way to remember how many fights he and I had gotten into over the years, ever since that first day we met.

It was, of course, easy to say that there were several, and probably more than most people would ever get into in their lifetime.

That said, it had never been one-sided between us, much to the annoyance of both of us.

Neither of us had ever managed to beat the other in size, strength, skill, or ferocity.

Where I might win a fight here and there, he would inevitably win the next couple.

More than once, I had become convinced that something in the universe was hellbent on making sure there was complete balance between us that prevented either from coming out on top in the final tally.

Even that last fight had more or less been a draw, with both of us bloodied and hurt but neither of us coming out on top.

So no, I didn't actually think I was more primed to win if we came to blows again. In fact, I was almost curious about which one of us might win if we decided to duke it out again. He had clearly not neglected himself over the years, and as a cop, one who was clearly in shape, he’d probably had his fair share of tussles.

I couldn't make the same claim, but I hadn't been slacking either.

Running a club wasn't quite the same as dealing with criminals, but people weren't known for being docile and understanding when they were drinking, and I had never been afraid to get involved when someone got violent.