Page 77 of Wish You Would

“Look.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “I get that she’s worried, and she’s being protective, but we’re both consenting adults, and we—”

“Oh, no.” Vaughn shook his head, dark brows furrowed. “That’s not what I want to talk about. In fact, I’d rather not talk about it at all.” He looked horrified, on the border of traumatized. “Which was what I told Anya when she tried to talk to me about it. As far as I’m concerned, my sister does not…do that. With anyone.”

He shook his head again, and the look on his face made me laugh. “Oh, my god, Vaughn. You’re such a prude. Ironic, since everyone in this place has heard you and Anya rattling furniture upstairs.”

He harumphed and glowered. I laughed harder.

Once I recovered, I folded my hands in front of me. Still smiling, I asked, “Well, if this isn’t about Parker, what is it about?”

“The other thing Anya told me.” He rested his foot on his opposite knee, grumpy face replaced by something much closer to contemplative. “She said you sang with the band. The…mayonnaise band?”

“Ahh.” My heart stuttered, blood rushing loud in my ears. “I was just helping out. They lost their lead singer and are having trouble finding a replacement. Dante held things down so I could do the set. He did a great job! It was like I wasn’t even gone at all. And it’s not gonna happen again, so you don’t have to worry about—”

“Would you take a damn breath, woman?”

I inhaled and fell back in my seat. “Sorry, I just…I don’t want you to worry that I—”

“I’m not worried.” He frowned. “You’re apologizing like you did something wrong, but I’m not mad, either.”

“Oh.” I frowned back at him. “Then why did you want to talk about it?”

He looked at me, long and solemn, before he spoke again. When he did, the question he posed hit me like a cannonball to the gut.

“Are you happy, Gi?”

“I, um…yes?” My brain buzzed like a swarm of hornets had taken up residence, but I nodded my way through it. “Of course I am.”

Vaughn didn’t respond. He studied me, his eyes burning into me like hot coals. I shifted under his stare, looking around for an escape. When none presented, I broke. “What?”

He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to say what he was about to say. But then, he clearly decided to go for it. “The bar was never your dream, Gi—”

“It wasn’t yours, either,” I cut in, feeling like a volcano on the verge of erupting. “Yet you spent years putting your life on hold to keep it open.”

“That doesn’t mean I want the same for you,” he snapped. His eyes flashed, nostrils flared. It was the closest to mad I’d seen him get in a long time.

I sat back in my seat, any argument I had gone.

“I did what I had to do,” he continued, his tone softer, “because Dad was depending on me. And, to some extent, you were, too.” At this, I tried to interrupt, to disagree, but he kept talking. “If I was here, helping the old man keep this place open, that meant you didn’t have to be.”

“Vaughn—”

“If I sacrificed for you then,” he continued, as if I hadn’t spoken at all, “what makes you think I want you to sacrifice now?” He leaned in, elbows on the table, and the dim overhead light caught the fire in his eyes. “To sacrifice the very happiness I wanted for you?”

I don’t know what to say. So I said nothing.

“I am so happy you’re home,” he went on. “I appreciate everything you’ve done. Without you, and your inability to take fuck off for an answer, who knows where we’d be.”

At that, I laughed. He’d definitely told me to fuck off, more than once, when I first came home. And not once did it stick.

My laugh pulled a smile from Vaughn and we shared a brief moment of levity. I knew it was brief, though, because I knew my brother. He wasn’t done.

“Heathcliff’s is thriving now,” he said, gesturing around us. Behind the bar, Dante was hard at work, and further back, Artie and Kai handled the kitchen like pros. Soon, the waitresses would come in, and everything would run smooth as the finest whiskey once we unlocked those doors. “You’ve hired a solid team. You’ve trained Dante to do your job—and I fully believe he could do more. So, if you’re here because you’re worried we won’t survive without you, you’ve made yourself obsolete.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said.

He smirked. “You know what I mean. You’ve done an amazing job, Gi. I’m so fucking proud. And so goddamn thankful.” He leaned his arm on the table, dropping his eyes until I met his gaze. “I love you, you little jerk. I want you to be happy.”

I huffed out a quiet laugh, fidgeting under his stare. “I’m not…unhappy.”

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