Page 41 of Enemies with Benefits (Finding the Right Brother #1)

Kayden stared at him, eyes blinking rapidly, and I had to resist the urge to laugh at the blatant and unabashed display of surprise...and affection. "Wow, okay."

Moira gave a small smile, putting a hand on Kayden's shoulder and steering him away. "Yes, yes, we're all surprised when Jace shows he genuinely cares by paying attention. Let's go look at the wiggling invertebrates you apparently love so much."

"Oh...you know about jellyfish?" Kayden wondered hopefully.

"Not much, but I have a son obsessed with marine life at the moment, so I've learned a few things," she said as they walked off. "Why don't you tell me what you know? Maybe I can use something to impress him later."

Jace snorted. “She wants to act like they're not an item, but then immediately takes the opportunity to spend time alone with him. Subtle."

"Subtlety was never her strong suit," I said, though I felt a trickle of nervousness.

She hadn't shot Jace and me her normal look of suspicion and concern before she walked off.

Yes, it could just be because she was enjoying a chance to spend time with Kayden in a seemingly platonic manner, but my instincts said otherwise.

It could simply be paranoia on my part, but something told me she was leaving Jace and me alone for reasons beyond trusting that we could get along.

Not that I was going to mention that to Jace.

He wasn't the type for hunches, not because he didn't trust them, but from what I'd seen, his mind was only comfortable dealing with facts and hard reality.

Telling him I suspected my sister might be catching on to something going on between us would sit uncomfortably in his mind.

From there, he would obsess and end up self-conscious, which would irritate him and make him unbearable.

It was hard enough to keep him from being pissy, I wasn't going to try to piss him off intentionally.

Well, not about things that wouldn't get me laid later anyway.

"Does she think either of us is gonna care that they're a thing?" Jace wondered, staring after them.

"You should know by now that my sister doesn't make very good or sound decisions when there's emotions involved," I said with a snort, glad for the distraction from my thoughts.

His eyes drifted to Micah, and he sighed. “True."

I saw the tension in his jaw and shook my head. “Hey."

"What?"

"Stop thinking so hard about her not telling you about him."

"Huh?"

"Don't pretend you didn't immediately think about it."

"You don't have to defend her. I wasn't going to start anything."

I stepped around him, catching his eye and smirking.

"Look, I don't need to defend my sister against something that isn't defensible.

I was saying that for your benefit. Overthinking is going to make you even more stressed and pissier than you already are.

What's the point in stressing yourself out over something you're either going to figure out on your own or not?

You're able to be around her without being an asshole, and you're able to be present for Micah despite being rightfully pissed at his mother, two things that are important and more than people would expect from someone in your position.

So learn to just be in the damn moment and quit obsessing all the fucking time. "

His eyes narrowed. "How the fuck can you say something that should make me feel better but pisses me off instead?"

At that, I couldn't help but laugh. "It's so fucking funny when you say certain shit."

Jace's brow twitched. “You've always enjoyed pissing me off."

"No, I mean," I continued with a chuckle, "because I was literally just thinking about how you and Moira were both right and wrong for each other. And that was another good example of it."

His face screwed up in confusion. “What?"

"Just... both of you are so serious and responsible. Like, all the damn time. I don't know if I should be impressed or worried about your blood pressure."

"Well, compared to you...yeah, I'm sure we are."

"Shut up. Point is that popped into my head earlier. But you getting pissed at how I said something while still acknowledging it was something you can respect is just...so on brand for Moira. She's always said shit like that to me over the years. And now you're saying it to me."

He gave a long-suffering sigh, rolling his eyes and turning to watch Kayden and Moira as they walked past a tank with the gently floating jellies.

"Look, you piss me off, and you do it on purpose, so I don't feel bad pointing it out.

But that doesn't mean you don't occasionally say something that makes sense. "

"Occasionally."

"You'd probably get people to listen more if you were less of an asshole about things. Just throwing that out there."

"It's part of my charm."

"It's really not."

"And yet here you are," I pointed out and then smirked, leaning in closer. "Or is it another part of me that keeps you coming around?"

"Jesus Christ," he growled, pushing me away. "We're in public, act like it."

"Literally no one is paying the slightest attention to what we're saying," I said with a glance around and a shrug. "The only thing they're paying attention to is the exhibit. Well, except for that group of women over there, they were definitely giving us the fuck eye earlier."

He turned toward me, nostrils flaring. "My point is that if you stopped acting like a jackass all the time, people might take you seriously."

Realizing he wasn't going to let it go, I turned to him and cocked my head.

"And what makes you think I'm worried about that?

Don't get me wrong, I get it. You're so concerned with the way other people see you, that's who you are.

But you need to stop pretending like everyone else needs to care about shit like that as much as you do.

Some of us are just here, enjoying what we can out of life and not worrying about other people's opinions. "

"So, what? You're just going to go through life, doing and saying whatever you like without giving a shit about the consequences or how it might affect other people?"

"Look," I said, finally unable to stop the annoyance filtering into my tone. "I've managed to go this many years without making a completely shit show of my life, all on my own."

"You have a whole family to back you up and put up with your bullshit."

"And? Do you think it would change if I didn't have them?"

"Yes."

"That was quick."

"I think you'd be an actual bastard without your family," he said, and I jerked back in surprise.

"Because they're the only reason you keep hanging onto the few good things about yourself.

Without that support, you'd be just another good-looking, charming, abrasive bastard who thinks he can do whatever he wants, even if it means stepping all over people.

Right now, though? You barely keep on the right side of that line, and sometimes I think you flirt with the idea of stepping over it. "

I snorted harshly. “That's bold coming from someone who's carried a chip on his shoulder from pretty much the day I knew him.

All you've ever done is demand that the world and other people treat you a certain way, and then get pissed off and stomp around when that doesn't happen.

Don't get me wrong, it's impressive that you're only this much of a bastard considering how absolutely shit your parents were, but the rest of the world isn't going to live up to your standards, and you're always going to be a cranky, bitter prick until you realize it and let go. "

Anger rolled off both of us, and I hated him for immediately taking what should have been a good time and ruining it with his attitude.

It occurred to me that I had almost let myself believe there might be some sort of peace between us.

It might have only come from the fact that we had been sleeping together, but it was something .

Except now, all I could feel was his dislike for me.

And the greatest bitch of all? That he had touched on all my sorest spots, even if he didn't realize the picture he was creating.

People were always going to have a problem with me.

Not just any problem, but a fundamental one, connected to the very foundation of who I was as a person.

That the very things that made me so endearing and charming in the beginning would be things that eventually got twisted and used against me.

That my sense of pleasure and joy would eventually be seen as a source of irresponsibility, and my laid-back attitude toward problems would be seen as not caring.

That, when it came right down to it, I would always be seen as an uncaring asshole.

Who was to blame for that? Well...me. I might have initially been inclined to be that way, but I had chosen to continue.

I was the one who adopted the attitude of not caring all that much.

I was the one who made sure people didn't pry too deeply into my head and find out what really lay under it all.

That, when it came down to it, I was supposed to be seen as what had once been called a playboy, a fuckboy, a player, any of those things, and encouraged no further probing into who I was as a person.

I hated him for it.

After all, where would I be without my family?

Without a mother who loved her son even with his failings?

Without a twin, who knew there was more to me than just the surface, but was unable to draw those depths from me without compromising herself, something both of us abhorred.

Without brothers who loved us because we had loved and supported them through everything, but perhaps I had never helped equip them with the tools that allowed them to confront another person on their failings.

Damn him...damn him to hell and back.