Page 10 of Strictly the Worst

That damn nightmare again. It doesn’t come often anymore. Not like it did when I was a kid and I was scared to go to sleep at night.

But when it comes, it’s a doozy.

I’d think about it, but that would just make me feel worse, so I pad to my bathroom and turn on the shower. It’s a double size one. Like the rest of the bathroom, the shower walls are clad with marble tiles, and within moments water droplets are clinging to them as the air steams up and I step into the hot stream raining down from the shower head.

God, I need to get laid or something.

Seriously, it’s been way too long. I blame my brothers. We all used to go out together. You’d be surprised how easy it is to find good company when you’re one of six good-looking men. Women used to flock to us like we were the Hemsworths.

Now all but one of them has settled down and they’re all disgustingly content. Sure, I’m happy for them.

But I miss the old days.

Squeezing out a palmful of the shampoo my stylist insisted I buy at my last haircut, I lather it into my hair, rinse it out, then add the conditioner I also had to buy – mostly because I’m a chump – and then I clean myself, tidy up the loose hairs, because nobody loves a bad manscape, and finally get out of the shower.

Usually I head down to the gym in the complex’s basement on Saturday mornings. I try to go most days. My way of decompressing. But today I’m meeting my brothers for brunch because they all happen to be in Manhattan at the same time and we have some things to plan. So I pull on a pair of expensively ripped jeans and a gray t-shirt, then grab my phone and check every cab app I have, choosing Uber this time, because there’s actually a car around the corner.

By the time I make it down to the street level, the car is waiting. I lift a hand at him and he nods at me.

“Hey Linc,” he says as I climb inside.

“Hey Adi, how are you doing?” I ask him. Sure, we’ve never met before, but we know each other's names through the beauty of technology. We’re practically besties.

“All good,” he tells me. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” He pulls away from the curb and the car behind us immediately blasts their horn at him. The smile doesn’t waver on his face. You have to be a special kind of person to drive for a living on this island. The same kind of person who’d happily fight a lion with their bare hands in eras gone by.

Still, I’m relieved that he doesn’t give a damn about the other cars, because I’m late – as always. It’s one of my faults, or at least that’s what my previous girlfriends have told me. Along with my inability to commit, my selfishness, and the way I always laugh every problem I have off.

Which probably explains why I don’t have a girlfriend right now.

I five star Adi, then add a big tip and thank him before climbing out of the car and walking toward the Carter Hotel – my big brother Myles’ nest of choice whenever he has to tear himself away from his family in West Virginia and visit the big bad city for business.

Though this time isn’t about business. It’s about Holden, who has also traveled up from West Virginia. In fact, four of them traveled together – Myles, Liam, Eli, and Holden. They chartered a plane last night, because that’s the kind of shit my brother loves.

Okay, I love it too. Why travel first class when you can travel without anybody else to mar the view?

Of course, all five of my brothers are sitting around a large circular table when the Mâitre D’ shows me to my seat. They stand as one – like they’re at school and I’m the teacher, which is kind of laughable, then one by one they give me a huge hug.

I secretly like it. Mostly because our relationships weren’t always like this. There was a time when my four eldest brothers kind of hated Brooks and me. Brooks is the youngest brother. And we all have a very complicated relationship.

Myles, Liam, Eli, and Holden all have the same mom. Brooks and I have a different mom. We share the same dad, but there’s a lot of evidence that his relationships with our moms overlapped a little.

And for a while, our four eldest brothers kind of blamed me and Brooks for taking their dad away from them. Or that’s what it felt like, anyway.

But then we all grew up, and those kind of stupid resentments got pushed away. Nowadays, we all have a great relationship. Since the four of them moved out of New York, I miss their faces. So when I tell them it’s great to see them, my words are genuine.

“How come you live the closest and you’re the one who’s late?” Myles murmurs, slapping my back a little too heartily.

“Because I still have a life,” I tell him. “One that isn’t taken up with two point four kids and a dog.”

“What was her name?” Brooks asks, grinning.

I shrug. “Can’t remember.” I’m not going to tell them I slept alone last night.

“Can I bring you a mimosa?” the server asks me as I finally take my seat.

“Yes please. And a coffee. Black.”

“Certainly, sir.”

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