Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Alex and I looked alike, in coloring at least. We both resembled my mother—brown hair and eyes and a tanned complexion, the Portuguese and Spanish evident in us. Evan took after my father’s side of the family—Scottish, Irish, French, and German. He had gray eyes, dirty-blond hair, and a golden tan he kept year-round. People always thought he was adopted until they met our father, because Evan looked just like him.
“Tracy!”
I didn’t know why, but seeing Evan striding toward me made me feel worse. Maybe it was because the only reason he was home was my being in trouble, or maybe it was the way he was looking at me, like he was sorry for me. Either way, I wanted to crawl under a rock.
“It’s not your fault, idiot,” he barked as he reached me, then wrapped me in his arms and held me tight against him.
“Hey, buddy, get your goddamn hands off my brother.”
Evan pulled back, and his smile for Alex was radiant. They hugged hard, and Evan left his hand on the back of Alex’s neck when they let go. Both pairs of eyes turned to me suddenly, and I waited.
“Here,” Alex said, holding out my tea. I noticed he had even put the coffee sleeve around the cup so I wouldn’t get burned. Damn nice of him.
I took a sip and sighed. “Thank you.”
After long moments of staring, Evan finally spoke. “You feel okay?” His voice was soft, the concern clear in his tone.
“As good as can be expected. C’mon, let’s go, I’m beat.”
Alex took Evan’s Louis Vuitton duffel and swung it over his shoulder. Evan walked between us, his arm around my shoulders and his left hand still on the back of Alex’s neck. I could see people watching us, trying to figure us out. Was he Alex’s lover or mine? Alex and I sort of matched in our faded jeans and casual attire, but Mr. GQ didn’t resemble either of us. He could have walked out of an ad for Calvin Klein. All he owned were high-end labels: Donna Karan, Ralph Lauren, Armani, Cole Haan, Versace, Kenneth Cole. Not a pair of Levi’s in there anywhere. At the moment, in his black Hugo Boss suit with a gray cashmere sweater and Dolce & Gabbana dress shoes, we got the staring that usually went along with traveling with Evan.
Once we got to the car, I sat in the back and made myself comfortable for the ride to my dad’s place in Sausalito. I fell asleep pretty much right away, and woke up to Evan talking to my dad on the phone, telling him he was being ridiculous.
“What?” I yawned, stretching before I realized how sore I was. “Ow, ow, ow.” I winced.
“You want a pill?” Alex asked from the driver’s seat.
“Yes, please, kind sir,” I said, catching his eye in the rearview mirror.
“In the small zipper pocket in my jacket I’ve got your 800mg ibuprofen, and there should be an Evian back there on the seat or on the floor next to my duffel.”
“Thanks.” I scrambled around and found the water and my pill and took it before leaning forward between their seats. “What’s going on with Dad?”
“He’s got that lady friend of his over at the house,” Evan told me, “and he’s trying to get rid of her before we get there.”
“Why?”
“Because he wants to focus all his attention on you, and he doesn’t think this is the best time for us all to meet her.”
“I, for one, am dying to meet her,” I told them. “I’ve been trying to get him to invite me over when she’s there for almost a month now.”
“Yeah, but now it’s not the best fuckin’ time,” Alex reminded me. “We should do it when you’re feeling better.”
“It will get my mind off other stuff.”
“I’ll talk to you, and you can watch TV. We don’t need company,” he groused.
I fixed Evan with a continuous stare. It took him a minute, subtlety was not one of Evan’s strengths, but he suddenly got it—I saw the recognition in his eyes. “Oh, you must be kidding,” he said, lips curving into a smile before he chuckled.
“What?” Alex asked, interested.
I said, “It’s obvious you don’t want to meet this woman because you don’t want Dad to date.”
“What?” he said defensively, his voice higher than I knew he wanted it to be.
“Alex,” I began. “You—”
“Why don’t you have your seat belt on? That’s against the law.”
“Really?” My voice was steeped in sarcasm.
“Lean back and buckle up.”
“I’m so not gonna do that just because you’re using that to change the subject.”
“Oh. My. God,” Evan croaked out, trying to stifle his laughter. “Jesus Christ, Alex, it’s about goddamn time he started dating. Mom’s been gone for almost twenty years now.”
“I know how long she’s been gone,” he said solemnly, staring straight ahead, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.