Page 41 of Friend Me

I threaded my hand through, pulling myself into his comforting warmth. He led me toward the park, the same direction I’d walked with Jackson a couple of weeks ago. Maybe we could find our way back to how we were then, before I’d made things weird.

“You can tell me to butt out, but what’s wrong with your dad?” he asked.

Or maybe not. I pulled my hand away and nestled it into my own coat pocket. But if we were going to trust each other, I had to share.

“You met him at Jackson and Alicia’s engagement party. He uses a cane. Because he broke his leg a couple years ago, and it didn’t heal quite right. He tried to go back to work, but he—it didn’t work out. His pain medicine makes him confused sometimes. So he’s home all the time now. I worry about him.”

We stopped at the intersection, and Tyler peered at me, his eyes dark in the dusky street. “Would you feel better if you went home?”

Yes. No.“He’s fine, really. Our neighbor’s with him.”

“But how are you? Taking care of a disabled parent is a lot.”

“Me? I’m fine. He’s always taken care of me. Now it’s my turn. We do okay.” I took a deep breath. I’d never told him the rest, either, always managing to change the subject before she came up. “My mother died when I was little.”

The light changed, and we crossed the street. When we were on the other side, he stretched his arm across my shoulders and side-hugged me, just for a second, like guys did with each other. Then he put his hands in his coat pockets. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” Talking about my dead mother was always a buzzkill, so I said, “You have a big family, right? Four brothers?”

“And a sister.” He stared ahead, down the sidewalk. “Raleigh—in fact, my entire family—can be a little…” He blew out a breath, visible in the chilly air for a second before it merged with the fog. “Much. We joke a lot, usually at each other’s expense.” He stopped in front of a glass-fronted restaurant where servers floated among white tablecloths and shiny metallic accents. “This is it. Just—” He grimaced. “Ignore everything he says.”

He held the door open for me, and I walked in. I didn’t even have to guess who Raleigh might be. Standing in the small waiting area of the restaurant was Tyler’s twin. Well, not a twin, but a bulkier, slightly older version. Instead of Tyler’s open expression, a smirk twisted his lips.

“Ty!” Raleigh stretched out his arms to embrace his brother, thumping him on the back. When he looked at me, his eyes were a solid brown, no flecks of color like Tyler’s. “Who’s this?”

Tyler pushed out of Raleigh’s bear hug. Keeping his hands at his sides, he said, “Marlee, meet my brother Raleigh. Raleigh, this is my friend Marlee Rice.”

Not wanting to get wrapped up in Raleigh’s meaty arms, I stuck out my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

He shook it more gently than I’d expected. “Well, well, well.”

“Should we get a table now that we’re all here?” Tyler asked. Without waiting for an answer, he stepped up to the hostess. She took us directly to a table in the back, where Tyler and I faced off against Raleigh.

While we looked over the menu and ordered, the two brothers exchanged news. Raleigh was in town visiting his company’s headquarters as he did three or four times a year. He’d seen their parents the previous weekend and reported that they were in good health but missed Tyler. How long had it been since he was home? Weeks? Months? More? Raleigh implied it was on themoreside.

Tyler told Raleigh about his place in the Excelsior—a shithole, he called it with an apologetic glance at me. I’d never been there, but it couldn’t be that bad. San Francisco real estate was expensive, but Synergy paid developers well. And he told his brother about his job. He was doing okay,he said. I opened my mouth to correct him—Tyler was Jackson’s protégé, which said something about his talent and prospects—but the server arrived with our meals, and our talk turned to food and the brothers’ favorite restaurants in Dallas.

Raleigh put down his fork and swallowed his bite of rigatoni. “The rehearsal dinner’s at Carolina’s. Bella wanted something chichi.”

Tyler mumbled something into his chicken.

Figuring Raleigh deserved a better response than that, I said, “You’re the one getting married?”

He nodded. “This summer. My college girlfriend. Though I knew her before that. Went to the same high school, but she’s a couple years younger. Your class, right, Ty?”

“Yeah.” He curled over his plate and shoved a bite of chicken with his fork.

Raleigh leaned back in his chair. “Though, now that I think about it, I remember her being at our house sometimes. She was friends with somebody. Maybe went with one of us to prom?”

Tyler dropped his fork onto his plate with a clang that rang out into the noisy dining room. Glaring at his brother, he spat out, “Friends. I dated her for six months, asshole.”

My heart stopped. Raleigh’s smile froze on his face, and his eyes went wide. I had time to run through two scenarios of leaping between them without getting marinara on my oyster-pink skirt—sadly, both utter failures even in my imagination—when Raleigh started to chuckle. Then he escalated into a full-on belly laugh that caused people at nearby tables to shoot him amused looks. Raleigh had a great laugh. Too bad he was an utter tool.

“I knew that. I was just fucking with you.”

“Shit-for-brains,” Tyler mumbled. Then he glanced up at me. “Sorry.”

“Justified,” I whispered. I’d never had a sibling, but Raleigh had to have broken the code by dating his brother’s ex. And then he’djokedabout it? What a—

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