Page 6 of Infatuation

I wait for Sarah to explain further but, apparently, that’s all she’s gonna say. She sits back down on the couch and primly folds her hands in her lap.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Jonas exhales. “She means not everyone is totally fucked-up like you and me.” He clears his throat. “Or, at least, like me—you seem to have been cured of your fuckeduppedness by that stupid book.”

I burst out laughing at that one. Good times.

“She means some people are, you know,normal,” Jonas continues. He sits down on the couch next to Sarah and puts his arm around her, obviously displaying some sort of solidarity with her. Wow, he must really like this girl, because what he just said is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard him say.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” I ask. “Normal?”

Jonas doesn’t answer. (Of course, he doesn’t—because there’s no defending the idiocy of his comment.)

“Okay, fine, let’s say there arenormalpeople out there... Why the fuck would anynormalperson join The Club?”

“To find love,” Jonas says quietly. “That’s what normal people want. That’s what The Club promises to the normal ones. And it’s a scam.”

I burst out laughing again. Oh my God, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life. But Jonas and Sarah don’t look the slightest bit amused. I glance at Kat, hoping to find one other sane person in this room besides me, and, thankfully, the Party Girl With a Hyphen doesn’t disappoint—she flashes me a sexy little smirk that says she thinks Jonas and Sarah are being ridiculous, too. I match her smirk with one of my own and she flashes me a wide smile that bares her perfect, white teeth.

“It’s true,” Sarah says, like she’s defending truth, honor and the fucking American way.

“Seriously?” I say. I take a beat to study my brother’s face. But, yeah, he’s dead serious. “Didyoujoin The Club looking for love?” I ask. I swear to God, if he says yes, then I know for sure this adorkable Sarah Cruz girl has cast a fucking spell on him. Either that, or he’s truly had a psychotic break.

Jonas looks at Sarah like he’s asking his master for permission to speak, and Sarah nods. Well, that answers that question—she’s cast a spell on him. He kisses the back of her hand. “No, I didn’t,” Jonas says.

“Well, neither did I,” I say, trying to ignore how pussy-whipped my brother’s acting right now. “I can’t imagine anyone ever would. That’s pretty far-fetched—even if someone’snormal.” I shoot an apologetic look at Sarah. Even if my brother’s acting like a flop-dick right now, that’s no reason for me to be disrespectful to Sarah. Obviously, she’s passionate about this ridiculously naïve notion of hers. “Sorry, Sarah,” I say.

Sarah nods and shoots me a half smile.

“I’m pretty sure I joined The Club because I was having some kind of mental breakdown,” Jonas says softly. “Again.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I shake my head with whiplash.No.Those are the exact words I didn’t want to hear coming out of Jonas’ mouth tonight. I’m not equipped to babysit Jonas through another mental breakdown. No fucking way. I’ve been doing it my whole fucking life and I don’t wanna do it anymore. Shit. And he seemed to be doing so well lately. What have I been missing?

“Though I didn’t realize it at the time, of course,” Jonas continues. He looks at Sarah. “I joined The Club because I didn’t understand what was really going on with me, what I really wanted—or what I needed. I was spiraling, man.”

My heart is thumping out of my chest. Shit, shit, shit. I don’t know what the hell to say. I thought Jonas was kicking ass and taking names lately, I really did. Work has been better than ever—the whole company is a fucking behemoth right now, thanks primarily to Jonas and his incredible instincts for deals. And he’s in the best shape of his life, too.

True, the guy’s been kind of a weird hermit for a while now—obsessed with nothing but climbing and working out and finding new investment opportunities—and, true, I’ve often thought Jonas should get out more, maybe go to a fucking party now and again, fuck somerandom woman he meets in a fucking bar, for Chrissakes. But that’s just not Jonas. He’s always been the sensitive one, attaching a deeper meaning to everything, including sex.

Actually, I suggested Jonas join The Club for a month in the first place because I figured a little meaningless sex might do the guy a world of good, exactly the way it did for me (and he’s clearly not capable of getting random pussy for himself, that’s for sure, though God only knows why, given what he looks like). And now I’m finding out my poetic brother viewed joining The Club as some sort of “surrender to insanity”? Well, shit.

I run my hand through my hair, desperation descending upon me. I feel like I could cry like a baby right now, even though I haven’t cried since I was ten years old. I seriously cannot do this again. I’ve carried my brother’s sanity on my back my whole fucking life, even when I’ve barely been able to hold the weight of my own. And I’m tired. I cover my face with my hands for a moment, trying to pull myself together.

There’s a long silence in the room.

“Well, all righty, then,” Kat finally says.

I glance up at her and she smiles warmly at me.

And just like that, I regain my footing. “Holy shit, Jonas,” I mumble, rubbing my hands over my face. “I’m all in when it comes to protecting Sarah and Kat, okay? Whatever it takes—you know that, right?”

“I know.” Jonas exhales. “Thanks.”

“I just think maybe you’re overreacting about—”

“Fuck, Josh!” Jonas leaps up from the couch and glowers over me like he’s about to strangle me—but I don’t flinch. The dude wouldn’t hurt a fucking fly and we both know it. “These motherfuckers threatened my girl and her best friend. Do you understand? They crossed the fucking line!”

I stand and open my mouth to speak, but Jonas cuts me off.

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