Emory is practically bouncing in her seat. “This would make an epic romance novel,” she says, then her hand flies out, whacking Sebastian in the chest. “You should write it!”
He rubs at the spot. “Yeah, babe, I’ll get right on it. After the other hundred ideas you have for me.”
“So, you guys think this will work?” I ask, genuinely wanting their opinions.
“I’m an advocate for love, so I vote yes,” Emory says.
Sebastian tugs her closer and brushes a kiss to her temple then says, “Yeah, man, I mean, her walls are bound to start fracturing soon with you up in her space, reminding her you’re not going anywhere.”
I nod my agreement. “Right? How much longer can she resist me? I’m a fucking catch.” I grin and push to my feet. “Alright, I’m really leaving this time. Thanks for the chat.”
“Keep me posted,” Emory calls to my back when I head for the door.
“Will do,” I assure her as I leave.
Once inside the elevator, I let my head rest on the mirrored wall behind me, thinking about what Lennon said tonight. It wasn’t an admittance, per se, but it wasn’t denial either. So, I guess that’s progress.
I stop by the packaging store on my way home and pick up a stack of moving boxes and a few rolls of tape. If Emory’s moving out next weekend, I’d better get cracking on the packing.
“Beers at yours tonight?” Bates asks as we shower after a grueling practice on Wednesday night.
“Sure.” I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to put step three into action, and this is it. Emory will be moving out in a few days, and my lease will officially be up in just over a week.
I finish scrubbing down, then I rinse off and grab my towel.
Back at my locker, I’m pulling my shirt over my head when I overhear Jonesy talking to some of the other guys about Bates’ fuck-hot sister. My jaw clenches, and my fist curls.
“The fuck did you just say?” I yell, shoving the slightly shorter guy against his locker.
He frowns at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “You’ve seen her. Don’t act like you wouldn’t hit that if Bates wasn’t around.”
You have got to be fucking kidding me. My eyes narrow to slits. “Do you have a death wish? Keep talking like that and I’ll be happy to grant it,” I sneer in his face.
Bates appears, still dripping wet from the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips. He pushes me back with a forearm to my chest. “The fuck’s goin’ on in here?”
I glare at Jonesy, just waiting for him to open his fat mouth and say something else about Lennon. But wisely, the jackass keeps his thoughts to himself in front of Bates.
“Nothin’. Your boy got his nose out of joint ’cause I told him he was off his game tonight. His pitches were shit,” Jonesy says, puffing his chest out.
Bates glances at me over his shoulder, and I shrug then turn back to my own locker and grab my phone and keys.
“Wait up,” Bates calls after me. “Let me get dressed, asshole. You’re my ride.”
“I’ll be in the car,” I mutter then carry on my way. If I stay in the same room as Jonesy the little bitch, I’ll do more than shove him.
Half hour later, we’re back at my place, and I hand Bates a beer before popping the cap off my own.
“What’s with all the boxes?” Bates asks, kicking his feet up on one in front of the couch.
It’s go time.
“Didn’t I tell you? I pulled out of that house on Valentina Drive. A problem came up with the plumbing or something, and I didn’t want to deal with that shit, so I withdrew from the contract.”
Bates’ brows bunch as he looks around my almost fully packed apartment. “So, why are you still packing?”
“I forgot to resign the new lease on this place. I gotta be out in, like, ten days. Still looking for somewhere to go, though.” I take a deep drag from my beer.
“Ten days?” he repeats. “How the hell are you going to find somewhere to live in ten days, man?”
I run a hand through my hair and sigh. “I have no fucking clue.”
My best friend scratches his neck as his gaze sweeps the room again. “You know Emmy’s moving out this weekend . . .”
“No shit?” I say, playing dumb.
He nods, his eyes lighting in the way they do when he has what he calls an epic idea. “Move in with us,” he says. “There’s plenty of room. You don’t have that much shit.”
“Really? That’d be fucking perfect. Thanks, man, you’ve always got my back.”
And he does. Ever since we were kids, Bates has been there for me, no matter what.
I feel like a shit for lying to him. But what was I going to say? Hey, man, I’m into your sister. Can I move in with you guys so she’ll finally give in and be my girlfriend?
Not only would I lose my man card, but Bates would probably beat the shit out of me. I figure once we’re together, we can tell him, and he’ll be cool with it because we’ll both be happy. And at the end of the day, I know that’s all Bates wants for both of us.
Bates slaps me on the back. “No problem. You know you’re like a brother to me and Lenny. We’ll be, like, one big happy family.”
I cringe. I might see Bates as a brother, too, but I certainly don’t see Lennon as a sister. The things I want to do to her are very unbrotherly . . .
I can’t believe Em’s moving day is here.
I’m not ready.
“Chin up, Len. I’ll only be two floors down. You can come by whenever you want,” she says. Wrapping an arm around my waist, she leans her head against my shoulder, and we watch Sebastian, his brother-in-law, Jake, and Bates load up with boxes.
Gritting my teeth, I swallow the knot of emotion sitting in my throat. Everything is changing. It was a big enough adjustment when Kins moved in with Atticus and his kid. Now this . . .
I’m happy for my girls. I really and truly am. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little, teeny, tiny bit jealous of their happiness. They’ve locked down a couple of amazing—even by my standards—dudes. And I’ve never seen them happier.
“Come on, Len. You know you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Em chuckles.
“Yeah. I just don’t like change. You know that. But I’ll be fine. I’m always fine,” I assure her.
She arches a brow and rubs her rounded belly. “Dude, we all know what fine means.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, averting my gaze. I know she’s about to quote one of our favorite movies, but I keep my mouth shut.
“Freaked Out, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional,” she recites.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But seriously, I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh.” She gives me a knowing look.
“It is what it is,” I say, shrugging. A change of subject is required. “We should probably go direct the guys, or you’re going to end up with bedroom boxes in your bathroom.” I loop our arms together at the elbow then tug her out of the apartment.
A few hours later, after helping unpack many, many boxes and getting disgustingly sweaty, I duck back up to my place and grab a quick shower. We’re going to have a girls’ night in Em’s new crib.