Yeah. I was a fan of those as well. “Yeah. But I don’t want to look like a fucking idiot rolling around in a truck that sticks out like a sore thumb.”
He shrugs. “It’s okay. Everyone knows you’re a city boy these days, anyway.”
The comment doesn’t mean anything. Nolan’s right; I moved away for a job, and people know that about me. It’s a job I chose, in an industry that I love, and I made that decision in order to have the life that I had always dreamed up when I was alone.
It still makes me feel bad. Growing up without my parents, the loneliness that I feel doesn’t just come and go. It’s always there. Sometimes it’s a big, yawning black hole in my chest. Sometimes it’s a memory, whispering in my ear, that I’m able to shrug off.
But Nolan making comments about how different I am than the rest of the pack doesn’t help to make it smaller. He must notice that something shifts in me, because his smile falters.
“Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to hit a nerve there. You’ll always have a home with Amara and me,” he says softly.
I sigh. “Well. I fucked that up already, too.”
“How?”
“Amara was being nice, and she asked about my job…”
Nolan winces. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. I responded in a tone I’m not proud of.”
He sighs. “Well, as much as it pains me that you snapped at my little sister, I can’t say I blame you, man.”
And that right there is why I fucking love Nolan as my best friend. Even when I’m awful. Even when I’m dark and I lay my darkness out for him, he fucking takes it and looks at it and shrugs and makes me feel like I’m not alone. Like I’m not the dark thing lurking at the edge of everyone’s thoughts. Like I’m not fucking broken and not a fucking problem.
“Thanks. But I should apologize to her.”
“Is she big mad or small mad?”
“Small, I think.” I smile faintly, thinking of how we used to rate Amara’s temper tantrums when she was a kid.
Nolan, however, seems less reassured. “I was worried about that.”
I raise my eyebrow. “What?”
His face falls a little. “She’s been going through it with her house lately, and I notice that a lot of the time, she’s just… sad. Like down. She broke up with some loser a year and a half ago, and between that and the house stuff, I’m worried about her.”
“She told me about the plumbing and the flood,” I add. There’s something in my chest that feels… itchy. Like it’s just off. “Is she okay?” I look at Nolan.
He shrugs again. “Honestly, no idea. I think that she could really use some help just getting back on her feet, but she doesn’t want to accept it from me. She’s got me working with the plumber and shit, but she insisted on doing the demo of the interior and putting the whole thing back together herself.”
I snort. “Independent.”
“Yeah. Kinda. I think she just doesn’t want me to help.” Nolan rolls his eyes.
An idea pops into my mind. “I could help.”
He tilts his head. “How?”
“I’m not going back to New York, man. Not going back to the label. That fucking band…” I hiss out a breath. “I’m done. Not going back there. Nothing to do here. I might as well stay and help rebuild her house.”
Nolan considers my words. “If we can convince Amara to let you, then that’s fine with me. Getting her back out into her own space might be the right thing,” he muses. “I haven’t been able to do much because the Alpha has me working on some shit with his new program to allow shifters without a pack to petition for settlement here. I would help her more, but I really can’t,” he says softly.
I nod, a little too enthusiastic about this idea. It’s clearly bugging Nolan that he’s not able to help his sister out, and if I can repay him for all the friendship and support he’s given me over the years, I’m definitely going to take that chance. “I’ll do it.”
“How are you planning on convincing her?”
I’m not planning on convincing Amara of shit. I’m going to just get in there and start building stuff, and if she doesn’t like it… too bad. “I have my ways.”