Page 91 of Wish I Didn't Want You Back

“Wait a minute.” Tuck’s gaze alternated between Finn and me. It was sharp and assessing. I called it his cop stare. “He knew before us?”

Hayes let out a dramatic gasp. “Dude, we are your flesh and blood. How could you?”

“Okay, first of all, he only found out today when he dropped the shrubs off. He figured it out just like you two geniuses.”

Tuck leaned forward, resting his hands on his legs. “I knew it.”

Hayes slapped me on the back. “She’s always been it for you, man. If you’re happy, then we’re happy.”

I kicked my legs out. “Yeah, but it’s not just about how I feel. There is still so much we have to figure out. It feels like everything is moving a million miles a minute. It would be nice if we could take some time to breathe a little, work on all the things we needed, but time isn’t on our side. The wedding has to happen in order for her to obtain the title for the house, and I want Marty to be healthy enough to see us get married.”

“Sounds like you are overthinking it,” Hayes said, shifting his weight. “She makes you happy. Focus on that.”

I ran my thumb over the neck of my bottle. “I am happy, Ionly wish we didn’t have the pressure of the wedding hanging over our heads.”

A part of me thought we should wait. Give us some time to adjust and iron out all the wrinkles, but the other part knew time wasn’t on our side.

Tuck leaned back in his chair. “I understand this feels rushed, but you’ve loved her forever, even when you pretended you didn’t. I’m starting to think you’re more afraid of it working out than not working.”

I shot him a look. “You think so, huh?”

He scratched the side of his cheek. “I don’t think, I know. You don’t want to ruin something that’s starting to feel real again.”

I chuckled. “Since when did you become so poetic?”

He shrugged. “I might have read a few of Mom’s romance books that she kept hidden in the bathroom when I was on the toilet.”

I shook my head while they all chuckled.

My back was facing the door, but when Finn glanced over my shoulder, I noticed his grin fade from his mouth.

“Ah, fuck.”

I turned around to see who walked in, and there he was. Mr. Trust Fund Snob himself. He looked like he just stepped off the golf course in his yellow polo and khaki pants.

My fingers tightened around my beer. He should have been long gone by now, but I guess he was still poking around.

He made a beeline straight to the bar. “I’d like a Macallan, neat.”

Ryan glanced at me and back at him. “Sorry, we’re all out.”

I coughed into my hand to cover my laugh.

He pulled out his wallet and took out a hundred-dollar bill. “Then I’ll have whatever top-shelf whiskey you have.”

“Sorry,” Ryan said, polishing off a glass. “I’m not serving you.”

Baz slapped his hand on the counter. “Why the hell not?”

A few heads turned. He was drawing attention.

Ryan smirked. “Because I don’t serve assholes.”

The beer I’d been drinking came spraying from my nose and mouth. Finn ducked his chin into his shirt to quiet his laugh while my brothers sat silently watching.

“You can’t refuse me service,”he snapped, acting as if his rights were somehow being violated.

Ryan seemed unfazed as he turned to stack the glasses. “I can and I just did.”

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