Page 41 of Naughty or Nice

‘Try all of the above.’

She suddenly sounds tired, weary, and my body pulls with the need to comfort her. Which is madness, since I’m likely at the heart of it all. But I’m pissed off. I’m sick of being seen as the bad guy. I loved every last one of them and they...they...

Fuck, what does it matter?

‘What’s so urgent that they have to bombard you at this time of night?’ I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.

She gives an incredulous laugh, surprising me. ‘You can’t guess?’

I take up my beer, having a slug before answering. ‘Are they worried the evil Lucas Waring is leading you astray?’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘Why? It’s the truth, isn’t it?’

‘They’re just worried about me.’

‘Good for them.’

‘Lucas, please—if you just tell me what happened then maybe I can help...maybe we can see a way to put the past to bed.’

My laugh is derisive. ‘You really don’t know your brother if that’s what you think.’

Hell, I thought I knew him and look where it got me.

‘You’d be surprised.’

There’s something in the way she says it that has my ears pricking, my attention shifting. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Things changed after you left—he changed, and not for the better... He’s...suffering.’

The admission is weighted, and she looks away from me as if she’s said too much. I don’t know whether to push or let it go. I should let it go. Digging further implies I care too much. About her, about Nate, her family. But I can’t.

I lean back into the sofa behind me and take another swig of beer. ‘Why don’t you be straight with me and I’ll be straight with you?’

* * *

He looks so relaxed in his stonewashed jeans and white tee, leaning back against his deep grey sofa, beer in hand. But it’s his eyes that tell me otherwise. There’s a dangerous glint to them that tells me to shut up. Even though I know we need to do this, get it all out in the open.

‘Why don’t you be straight with me and I’ll be straight with you?’

It’s what I came for.

And maybe if he understands the way things are with Nate now, he’ll understand why I have no desire to interrogate my brother. Why I need to hear it from him.

I look at my near-empty bottle of beer. ‘Can I get another?’

‘You stalling?’

‘Call it Dutch courage.’

I remember the last time I used that kind of courage to do what I needed to with him and my cheeks colour as I roll my shoulders, shaking it off. The move draws his eye and I tug at his T-shirt, feeling suddenly naked against his fully clothed state.

‘You’re sure you’re ready to hear the lurid details of what happened five years ago? Sure you want your golden-boy brother tainted?’

Golden-boy? I almost snort and he sharpens his gaze. He doesn’t miss a trick.

‘About that beer...?’ I say.