AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I can’t exactly blame Evie for upending my carefully cultivated world. I can’t even blame my father for dumping Jack in my lap, as much as I’d like to. No, if I really want to point fingers, they’d only go back to myself.
My trouble all began when I decided to build that stupid ship. Because what was that if not an emotionally-charged decision? Everyone had told me I was a fool to do it, and I’d done it anyway. For me. Or, I suppose, for the boy I’d once been.
And now I have Evie Davis in my life, making things even more confusing, calling me out on my bullshit, looking for hidden depth. I haven’t felt so vulnerable in years, and I don’t like it at all. I should just fire her and call it a day. I could send her on her way with a significant severance bonus and absolve myself of any guilt I’d feel about using her campaign.
Because I can’t keep glancing up from my desk every moment leading up to 8 a.m. when she and her intern walk through my doors. I can’t keep watching her on the security feed as she works, chewing on the end of her pen, frequently brushing those gorgeous blonde locks behind her ears. I can’t continue to argue with her in my head, coming up with new comebacks for her insults, imagined conversations that inevitably end with me pushing her against a wall and snaking a hand between her legs as my mouth dominates hers…
“You okay, bro? You look a little tense.”
I jolt out of my thoughts at Jack’s words, embarrassed he caught me in my fantasy.
I glance at the time on my open computer and sigh. This is exactly what I’m talking about. One moment I’m working on my couch and the next it’s been twenty minutes of ruminating on how to best deal with the Evie Problem. Even Jack is starting to key in on things, a titanic feat since I’m pretty sure he’s high twenty-four seven.
“I’m fine,” I say grouchily, shifting and pulling my laptop closer.
“See you say that, but you’ve been staring at the same blank document for almost a half hour,” he says. “What gives?”
I sigh deeply. I can’t even escape the questions at home. It occurs to me that Jack and Evie would get along due to their constant desire to interpret me. Can’t he see that I’m working?
“I’m busy,” I mutter. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Jack doesn’t take the obvious cue to leave me alone. Instead he flops down on the couch next to me, holding a bowl of Fruit Loops. Unsurprisingly, neon-tinted milk sloshes out of the bowl and onto the leather.
“Whoops,” he says and wipes up the milk with the sleeve of his flannel.
I close my eyes and pray for patience. With each passing day of living together I’m getting less and less convinced that Jack and I are actually related. The kid is a mess and he doesn’t seem to care. He’s up all night, eats food that would put me in a coma, and seems utterly content to do nothing but play video games and smoke pot on my balcony.
I need to schedule in some time to deal with him. He needs a job. He doesn’t even own a suit. It’s a nightmare.
“Anyway,” Jack continues, oblivious to my internal torment, “I know we don’t know each other that well, but you weren’t like this when I visited for Christmas. Something’s up with you.”
“I’m surprised you remember Christmas,” I mutter, pretending to work but really getting nothing done other than clicking around a web page. He’d spent most of Christmas high as well. That is until he disappeared to go to Guam with friends. I’d been in the midst of the Seafarer’s latest building disaster at the time and had found it easier to just let him go than deal with a big fight and the subsequent sulking.
Jack either doesn’t hear or chooses to ignore my jab. “All you’ve done is work since I moved in. Don’t you have any hobbies?”
I don’t answer, continuing to click.
“Okay, I guess maybe you don’t have time for hobbies with the business and all,” he reasons. “But do you just never get laid?”
I click harder, trying not to picture curves clothed in tasteful business attire.
“Well?”
“Can’t you see I’m busy?” I demand with a growl, staring daggers at him.
Jack jerks back from my anger and a hurt expression crosses his features. But then he flops back, the look gone as quickly as it came.
“So I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then?” he asks.
“Take it however you want,” I mutter. I’m embarrassed at my outburst. What happened to cool and collected Nick? Maybe he was only sustainable when the world was at arm’s length.
Jack doesn’t say anything, and an uncomfortable silence descends. I try to go back to my work, but it’s hopeless. I shut the computer lid and turn to him.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” I say. “I’m just overextended at work.”
“What’s new?” he asks. He wears a small smile, but it’s pasted on. His tone is sullen.
I sigh and rub my eyes, willing myself to be patient. I need to make an effort, even if I don’t have time for it. And also I’d sounded a bit too much like Dad just now for my comfort. “What does that mean?” I ask.
