Page 11 of Key Change

Anthony leaned back. He didn’t give a fuck about a birthday four years away, but Hayden would. His brother’s eyes narrowed, and his shoulder tensed. Anthony twisted to the side a moment before Hayden’s fist flew past and his knuckles smashed into the wall.

Hayden swore.

But Anthony was already walking away, his back turned to his brother, listening for the next attack. For his brother to knock into him or something equally as stupid.

“We aren’t done,” Hayden snarled.

“We’re brothers. We’ll never be done.” Anthony stood in the doorway. He’d hoped to feel some smug satisfaction at seeing his brother holding his wounded hand and looking impotent and enraged. He would’ve laughed once, finding it comical that Hayden spent all his time trying to best his younger brother—even through school. As the eldest, Hayden should’ve automatically been in front. Instead, he’d turned everything into a competition. How many sporting wins? How many academic certificates? It amused Anthony because it angered his brother.

His brother hadn’t changed. But he had.

“Anthony!” Margot called, making her way toward him, cutting through the party like she was done with their bullshit. Maybe Cillian had fetched her. He didn’t need rescuing, but he was grateful anyway.

He smiled at her. “Hayden is drunk and might need to clean his hand up. He attacked a wall.” Her gaze dropped to his hands. Not even his sister trusted him. “He swung at me. He should be grateful he’s got all his teeth.”

“When are you two going to grow up?” She brushed past him.

He was going to hear about it later.

The party had continued without him, but he didn’t feel like drinking or dancing, and he couldn’t see Cillian. He made his way to the front door and slipped out. His evening had turnedout pretty much as expected. Hayden hated him and he’d walked out early. The only ray of light was Cillian. He leaned against the hood of his sister’s car and stared up at the stars.

The house went quiet, then there was a round of applause, and someone began playing the piano.Cillian.How much had his brother paid for a private performance?

He pulled his phone out of his pocket to search upCillian concert pianist. He wasn’t hard to find. Anthony cursed, realizing just then that he’d left without getting Cillian’s number.

Damn.That was a mistake he wasn’t used to making.

Could he go back in?

Panic fluttered in his chest. Nope. He couldn’t do that twice in one night. He had limits. And Cillian hadn’t asked for his number either. It was one thing to have a kiss at a party and another to want more. He should count himself lucky he’d gotten that kiss.

He touched his lips and smiled. First kiss since getting out. A kiss that left him wanting more. The music shifted to an arrangement of a pop song that Anthony remembered from before.

The kiss had irked his brother, so perhaps the party had been good after all.

He sat under the stars, enjoying the music, and thought that this wasn’t such a bad way to end the night. Cillian’s performance ended too soon. Next to him, his phone buzzed and vibrated. He grabbed it, almost afraid to look at the message. He’d only given his number to a handful of people, and he hoped it wasn’t a random check on where he was.

It wasn’t.

My number. Call me. Cillian.

CHAPTER

SIX

Anthony spentthe morning looking for work. He was not going to let his brother win. His parents had written him off after his arrest—the drug charges didn’t help the situation even though what the cops found had been for personal use only, and he’d turned in the dealer to avoid doing more time—but he’d prove to everyone he wasn’t a fuckup. He’d made the mistake of getting caught, but it wasn’t going to define him forever.

He just needed that first foothold, so he was no longer hanging on by his fingertips. He couldn’t stay like this forever. He either climbed or fell. And falling, failing, was not an option he wanted to entertain.

His parole officer, Mick, had reminded him that it would take time to adjust. Even he’d thought going to the party was the right thing to do. He wouldn’t be telling him about Cillian or Hayden’s goading, but he should text him something.

Cillian’s message was at the top of the list.

Mick was next on the list. He glanced at the computer screen and the waiting job application. Then sighed, texting Mick was easier and at least he’d get a response.

I went to my brother’s birthday. Same time for our next meeting?

And how was it? You were worried about being shunned.

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