Page 15 of The Secret Experimentation
Scott gives me a chin tilt and a small rare-in-public smile appears on his mouth.
We walk to the counter and the bartender hands us two IPAs while openly checking my brother out. It will never happen. Scott never mixes work with pleasure. It’s one of his golden rules.
I grab one of the tissues on the counter and wrap it around my bottle, I hate the wet, cold sensation on my fingertips.
“Congratulations, bro.” I clink my bottle to his and take a long sip.
He nods, sighing proudly while looking around.
“How is it going?” I ask him.
He motions me to follow. Doesn’t hold the kitchen swinging doors for me though. Thank God my reflexes are still good, and I stop the wooden board with my forearm before it hits me full-on in the face.The fucker!He looks like a standoffish, scary dude, but the truth is that he’s a big, immature frat boy.
We cross the kitchen and walk into a small corridor. There’s the staff locker room, an extra bathroom, and my brother’s office. He sits behind his huge mahogany desk and waits for me to close the door and sit on the chair in front of it.
“Why the change of room?” I ask him, looking around for a coaster to place my bottle on. When I don’t see any I just decide to keep holding it.
My brother sighs. “Just fucking put it on the desk!”
“Don’t want to ruin the wood.” I crack my neck, the mental image of the light wet circle on the dark desk is like having ants walking up and down my spine.
“It’s waterproof,” he hisses.
“It’ll still get wet.”
“Fucking hell!” he mutters, pulling a square plastic coaster out of one of the drawers. He throws it my way, and I barely stop it before it falls from the desk.
“Cork coasters are better. They absorb any moisture and spills, and don’t scratch surfaces.”
“Are you turning all Monica on me?” he grumbles before taking a drink of his beer.
I’m a little over the top, I realize that. That’s why I usually try to rein this side of me in when I’m out with people. Even though it’s not easy. But Scott is my brother, and if I can’t be myself with him then who can I be with?
“Scott.”
“Yes, Monica,” he taunts me. I fucking hate when he calls me that, and he knows it.
“Okay. Okay. Fucking with you is always too easy.” He snorts. “The bar is going great. Cole is my accountant so you should know that already. And I brought you in my office because I know that face.”
“What face?” I ask confused.
“Your I-need-to-talk-about-shit face.” He twirls his index finger, pointing at my head.
“What…?” That reminds me of Mel, and the way he can read me so easily. Mel and that kiss. That damn kiss.
“Just talk already!”
Assface! I feel tempted to stand up and leave, but he’s the only person I can actually talk to about it. Cole would understand as well, but he’s too taken by his family issue. So Scott it is.
“I’m here to ask for—advice.”
Both his eyebrows kick up, almost touching his hairline. It must be really surprising for him since I never ask for anything…especially not from my younger brother.
“The day has finally come. Go on.” He lays both his elbows on the desk and turns his entire attention on me.
“I’m having weird feelings…toward a guy.”
“I’m listening.”
