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Arrive. Get a cab. Get back to my place. Call her up again.
This time, it rings, but she doesn’t answer. I stalk to my car, shove my key in the ignition, and... freeze.
Fuck.
It’s eleven PM, but that’s not what’s stopping me.
It’s that I don’t know Wynona’s fucking address.
I lean back in the car seat and close my eyes.
Think...
I call the next number that comes into my head. The only one I can think of, at this point.
“Hello, stranger,” Nolan says jovially. “Boy, do I have some tales for you.”
“Hey,” I say, trying not to sound too shitty. “How was the honeymoon?”
I want to see Wynona now. But there’s no point in being a complete dick to my brother.
“Glorious, just glorious,” he says, in a good enough mood for the both of us. “Did you know that Bangkok has the longest name of any city in the world? You know what the full version is?”
“Something tells me you’re going to tell me,” I say wryly.
“It’s Krung Thep Mahanakhon Amon Rattanakosin Mahinthara Ayuthaya Mahadilok Phop Noppharat Ratchathani Burirom Udomratchaniwet Mahasathan Amon Piman Awatan Sathit Sakkathattiya Witsanukam Prasit,” he says, cracking up. “It’s like a different world over there, let me tell you. The national anthem is played publicly twice a day. And these people, they know respect, man. Doesn’t matter if you’re in a train station, mall, or busy market, everyone, even the freaking monkeys, will stop moving and bow respectfully when the song ends. Can you believe it?”
“Shit,” I say.
“Yeah, shit,” Nolan says musingly. “What’s up with you? How goes paradise?”
“Can you ask Sierra for Wynona’s address?”
“Sure, I’ll just...” Nolan pauses. “Hold on. Why do you need her address?”
“We had an argument,” I admit. “Now she won’t return my calls, won’t even let me explain. We both flew back. I’m in New York now.”
“Ooh,” he says.
“Damn,” he says.
“Hmm,” he says.
“Are you going to ask her or not?” I growl.
“Fine, fine.” His hands are up, if I know my brother at all well. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
The sound of muffled voices, then Nolan says, “Sierra wants to know why.”
“Then tell her why,” I find myself growling.
More muffled voices, then, “She doesn’t think she should tell you.”
“Great,” I growl.
“What’s going on?” Nolan says. “I thought you guys were capital-G good.”
“Yolan, that guy you hooked me up with? He gave me a great offer to go on tour.”
“And the problem with that is?”
“I’m not going to take it.”
Nolan snorts. “Did you bump your head on a beach rock or something?”
“No. Wynona and I couldn’t do long-distance last time. I’m not about to make the same mistake again.”
“Huh.” I can almost hear Nolan scratching his head. “So, what’s the problem then?”
I consider mentioning the baby—in all the chaos of these past twelve hours I’d all but forgotten—but ultimately decide against it. I will tell my brothers about it, but not yet.
“The problem is that Wynona thinks I should take the opportunity,” I tell him. “She’s so dead-set on it that she won’t take no for an answer.”
“Oh, hmm,” Nolan says. “That is a problem.”
“She left without a word to me,” I say. “I woke up and found her gone.”
“Oh,” Nolan says. “Sounds serious.”
“Yeah.”
Silence.
“You really like her, don’t you?” he asks, amused. “As much as you like that shoe composer guy.”
“You mean Schumann,” I say drily. “And almost.”
A low, long whistle. “Damn. You really like her, don’t you?”
“Do we have to get into it?”
Nolan chuckles. “Boy, do you have it bad. I guessed as much. The rest of us have been finding our ladies, oldest to youngest. It was your turn.”
“Glad I’m meeting the timeline.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I listen to the silence and wonder what Nolan’s going to fill it with this time.
That’s my brother for you, jokester, talker. Greyson was always the serious one, the one who could sort things out even when you didn’t know they needed to be. Landon could always lay out things with logic that you never expected. And me, I could play piano.
“Listen, I am sorry,” Nolan says.
“It’s okay,” I say. “Sierra’s being loyal to her friend. I get it. I’ll find another way.”
“I’m not sorry about that,” he says.
“Okay?”
He chuckles. “If you really like this woman, then man, are you in for a world of pain.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Nah, that’s supposed to warn you. If you really think you want this, you’d better think it over nice and long. Because love, real love, not lust or a nice thing for now—real, actual, honest-to-God love, it’ll rip you apart, and when it puts you back together, you very well may not like what’s left.”
“Dude.”
“Don’t dude me.” I have the rare sense, as acute as a knock on my funny bone, that Nolan is being dead serious for once. “You were with this girl before. You never let us meet her, but I was there for the aftermath. She tore you up good, man.”
