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“Good morning,” Dylan said, as he appeared around the corner and went straight to the coffee. He was whistling, dressed in workout clothes like he’d been hitting the gym. “How are you? Did you sleep okay?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I demanded. “You locked me out last night so you could bang some random chick and now you ask me how I slept? You’re a dick.”
Yes, I was grateful he was an asshole, because if it wasn't for his selfishness, I wouldn’t have ended up in Faith’s room, but he didn’t need to know that. I couldn’t encourage dickhead behavior.
Dylan paused in the act of putting a cup under the drip. “What are you talking about? I fell asleep watching porn last night. I didn’t have a random chick in the room.” He set his mug down and hit a button. “I wish I did but it was just me and a flat screen.”
“What? Why was the door latch on then? I couldn’t get into the room.”
“Oh. Shit. Sorry. Guess I did it out of habit.” He checked his phone while he waited for his coffee. “Did you go to Ian’s?”
“No. Out of pure bitterness I tried to sleep in the lobby.”
“You slept in the lobby,” he repeated. “Instead of going to Ian’s. Bullshit.”
I realized my mistake. Now I had no way to back out of this without lying. I couldn’t tell him I’d stayed in Faith’s room. “I said I tried to because I was pissed off. But then the staff got mad at me so I got my own room.”
“You’re not telling me something.” Dylan eyed me. “You stayed with Faith, didn’t you?”
“What?” How could he know that? “No, of course not,” I lied.
“That’s why your words sound like you’re mad, but you don’t actually look mad. You look like you finally got some action.” He looked smug about it, and more than a little amused. “You little dirty dog. Giving her a tour of the distillery, huh? Work trip, my ass.”
“This tour was your idea, not mine! And you’re the one who bailed on driving down here with us and who locked me out of the ro—” All of a sudden it clicked. “Holy shit, you did this on purpose. You set me up.”
“You’re welcome.” Dylan clapped me on the shoulder. “It seemed pretty obvious to me you had a thing for her.”
“It did?” I hadn’t thought I was being obvious at all. Dylan had barely been around Faith and me.
“Dude. Come on. You can’t stop touching her. Her shoulder, her arm, her ass when you had her in her office before the interview.”
“That’s because my coffee spilled on her. I was brushing off her skirt.” Because liquid is so brush-able. I guess I had been pretty damn obvious.
Dylan picked up a muffin, bit it and chewed. “Okay. Sure thing, buddy. You don’t have to admit it. Just be careful around Malcolm. He doesn’t like the whole mixing business with pleasure thing.”
“It’s not going to matter. Faith will be here in Wanted and I’ll be back in Nashville. In my own apartment. You’ve been a really good brother to not complain about me as a roommate. I appreciate it. Time for me to move on and give you your space back.” It was beyond time. He’d been really cool about it.
“Thanks, man. You don’t have to rush or anything.”
“I’ll be out as soon as I find a place. Give me three weeks. Then you can have all the Peytons you can handle.”
Dylan grimaced. “I never should have told her I was a twin. I can’t shake her now. I finally had to block her number.”
“We have such an amazing track record picking women, don’t we?” I said, with a grin.
“I don’t know. You may have turned a corner. Faith seems cool.”
That made the grin fall off of my face. “It’s not like that. I can’t… we can’t… no. It’s not anything.”
Except that it suspiciously felt like it was.
“Why not?” Dylan asked. “Because of Cash? He likes you, man. He won’t care if you date his sister.”
“I don’t know how he’d feel about it. It’s complicated. What if we date and it doesn’t work out and then Cash is pissed at me for breaking her heart or something?”
Dylan snorted. “More like she’ll break your heart. Cash might feel sorry for you and it will be awkward, but I’m sure it will be fine.”
I glared at my brother. “Thanks. That’s helpful.”
