Page 39 of A Little Complicated

It’s early. The sun has barely begun to rise above the horizon as I stretch my legs out on the back patio. I like it like this. The quiet. The dew clinging to the grass. The birds chirping in the trees. I couldn’t sleep. The silence in my room was too much. But out here? It’s nice. The good kind of quiet. I’ve been coming out here more lately. It’s the only time I’ve found peace. In the mornings when I’m by myself or late at night on the roof with no one to bother me but my thoughts. I need to meet Ophelia at the rink in a couple of hours. Part of me still wishes I’d said no. Said I was too busy.

But it’s Ophelia.

Despite being an ass sometimes, I’ve never been able to tell her no.

Bringing my lukewarm coffee to my lips, I take a sip, noting the grass needs trimming. It’s Reeves’ turn, which means he’ll put it off for another week or so until he finally caves and mows it.

Ass.

A soft creak sounds behind me, cutting through the comfortable silence, and I turn around. Archer’s standing in the doorway with two mugs in his hands. Steam swirls through the air, bringing the scent of fresh-brewed coffee with it.

“That for me?” I ask.

“It was.” His eyes cut to the mug in my hand. “Since when do you wake up early?”

Since I couldn’t sleep, too lost in my thoughts of you and Opie fucking in the room beside mine.

“Thought I’d take a play out my brother’s book and wake up at the ass-crack of dawn,” I reply. “Now, gimme some coffee. Mine’s shit.” I set my subpar caffeine on the ground beside my feet and reach for one of Archer’s offerings. He chuckles, hands me a mug, and sits beside me on the top stair of the patio leading to the grassy backyard in front of us.

“Listen,” Archer says, but I lift my hand.

“Don’t start.”

“Come on, Mav. You’re my brother and best friend.”

“Seriously?” I scan the mountains in the distance and let out a long, slow breath. “That’s the shit you’re going to pull?”

“We talked about this before she got here. You promised you were going to be nice.”

“I’ve been nice.”

“You’ve been a sarcastic asshole,” he points out.

My mouth lifts as I bring the fresh coffee to my lips and sip, taking my time as I taste the hot liquid.

Fuck, he even makes coffee better than I do.

“She’s probably my future wife, man,” Archer continues. “And I’m going to need my future wife to get along with my twin brother, don’t you think?”

Wife.

The knife in my chest twists, making it hard to breathe, but I stop myself from wincing and shift on the stairs. “Look, I agreed to help her on the ice while you’re busy with your internship. I don’t know what else you’re looking for.”

“I’m not going to be able to be there today.”

“Yeah, which means I’m going to be even more miserable—”

“Don’t piss her off,” he snaps. “It’s all I’m asking. Do you think you can do that for me?”

“I’ll be nothing but a gentleman,” I offer dryly, lifting my mug into the air in a silent salute and drinking it down. If only he’d spiked it with some whiskey. Or hell, even some bleach would work if it’d put me out of my misery.

His eyes narrow as he watches me from his periphery, but I don’t look at him. I stare straight ahead, caught between hatred and guilt. Both of which are directed at me.

“Why do you hate her?” he demands.

I pull back, surprised by the accusation in his tone, along with his desire to address the elephant in the room we’ve both been avoiding for as long as I can remember. “I don’t hate her.”

“I’m serious,” he pushes as I stare into my mug. “You’ve always been this way with her. And yeah, I was the same when we were kids. Following you around and pulling her pigtails because she was always trying to tag along and shit. But we aren’t kids anymore, Mav. It’s not funny when you’re a dick to her, and you need to stop.”

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