Page 43 of Dare to be Different

I shrug. “I’d try it.”

Remy grins around the brim of his mug. “Of course you would. I don’t really know mine yet. Can I tell you when I find them?”

“As long as you promise to be honest.”

He makes the promise, and we finish our drinks.

“Sorry about what I did,” he says.

“Don’t be. Ever.”

He nods. “Alright…”

I smile at the memory of his mouth on my extremely hard dick. “But seriously, have you sucked a dick before because that was… fuck.”

“Fuck you, Zahn.” He laughs, shoving me away.

Chapter 18

I’m completely out of place, trying not to get the grime from my flight gear all over this fancy furniture. I keep my ass on the very edge, trying not to move too much so that the grease I can see on my pants doesn’t accidentally taint everything around me.

Who the fuck buys a white couch?

Nope. Can’t do it. I stand, leaning against a dining room chair instead.

“So, Remy. How’s business?” Angel, my brother’s wife, asks while trying to hide her cringe. She doesn’t like my utility-style outfit, and fuck her for it. Plus, she’s got one of those voices. The screechy, nasally kind, and a wicked annoying laugh to go along with it.

“Uh, yeah. Good. We’re fucking busy.” She doesn’t like swearing, so she cringes again. Fuck her one more time.

My brother, Rhett, gives me one of those looks. Some cross between amusement and disappointment, forever reminding me that he one-upped me in life. “What’s busy? How much do you net per quarter?”

Jesus fucking fuck. He can fuck right off about it. “Enough to live off of.”

“Six figures?” He raises a brow and smooths his crisp white button-down.

I just grin at him. He grins back, thinking he won something. I don’t know when this competition began between us, but we both grew up with the same vacant parents and were forced to branch out and find our own role models. He thinks his is better than mine, leading him into a life of luxury and executive positions.

But does he own the fucking business?

Yeah, I might not make as much as him, but I’ve got independence, a business with my best friend, and a love for my job. He can’t say the same, and to me, I won. I wouldn’t even have a use for all the money he has. I’m a pretty simple guy.

I pull my phone from my pocket and ignore the look of modesty he’s trying but failing to convey.

Remy: Hurry the fuck up, man. I’m gonna kill him soon.

“Well, if you ever want me to look at your contracts and legal documents, let me know,” Rhett so kindly offers.

“Yeah, thanks. But it’s just me and Zahn, so we're good.” We own everything together, 50/50 split, and that’s the way we like it. We have basic contracts already drawn up for contracted pilots, and other than insurance and shit like that, we don’t need much. Our business is a simple structure, and it works for us. So Rhett can fuck off with all his big business talk.

“How is Zahn?” Angel asks, perking up at the mention of my best friend. Pretty sure she wants to fuck him. Pretty sure Rhett picks up on that. Pretty sure my smug grin isn’t the least bit condescending. I also know that Zahn wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole, so maybe there is a bit of condescension in my grin.

“Good. He’s…” Just leave it at good, Remy. “Good.”

“Is he still single?” Angel asks, and Rhett gives her a look. “I mean, he’s such a catch. He should settle down with a nice woman.”

Not everyone wants a woman at their side, you bitch. He’s got me. I’m by his damn side. “Yep.”

“And what about you, Remington?” she asks, the use of my full name grating my nerves. All that name does is remind me of my gun obsessed dad and the gun safe he named me after. Only Gen gets to call me that. “Are you dating anyone?”

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