Page 193 of Things We Never Got Over (Knockemout)
“We can when you’re being a stupid, stubborn son of a bitch,” my brother snapped.
“No. Do not sit. Don’t make yourselves comfortable. I finally have a night to myself and I’m not wasting it with you two.”
Lucian took his beer and wandered into the living room. He sank into one of the armchairs and put his feet up on the coffee table, looking content enough to stay there for the rest of the night.
“Sometimes I really hate you assholes,” I complained.
“Feeling’s mutual,” Nash growled. But his hand was gentle when he leaned over to give Waylon the loving he demanded. The dog’s tail blurred into happiness.
“You don’t hate us,” Lucian declared mildly. “You hate yourself.”
“Fuck off. Why would I hate myself?” I needed to move. I needed to buy a thousand acres and build a damn cabin in the damn middle and never tell a damn soul where I lived.
“Because you just told the best thing that ever happened to you to take a damn hike,” Nash said.
“A woman is never going to be the best thing that happens to me,” I insisted. The words tasted suspiciously like a lie.
“You are the stupidest son of a bitch in the state,” my brother said wearily.
“He’s not wrong,” Lucian agreed.
“Why in the hell do you two have your panties in a twist over who I do or don’t date? It was never real anyway.”
“You’re making a huge fucking mistake,” Nash insisted.
“What do you care? Now you get your shot at her.” The thought of it, just the split second imagining him with Naomi, nearly brought me to my knees.
My brother set down his beer. “Yeah, I’m definitely hitting him again.”
Lucian dropped his head back against the cushion. “I said I’d give you one. You’ve had it. Find a new way to get through his thick skull.”
“Fine. Let’s try something new. The truth.”
“How novel,” Lucian said.
I wasn’t going to get rid of either of them until they’d said their piece. “Say what you need to say, then get the hell out.”
“This happens every time he sees him,” Nash complained to Lucian.
Lucian nodded. “I am aware.”
I didn’t like that my brother and my best friend seemed to have a history of making up and discussing my issues.
“Sees who?”
Nash leveled me with a look.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come the fuck on. I broke it off with Naomi because she was gonna get herself hurt. I did the right thing, and it had nothing to do with anyone else. So stop trying to fucking analyze me.”
“So it’s just a coincidence that you see him, and the very next day you decide things are getting too serious?”
“He has nothing to do with anything I do,” I insisted.
“How much did you give him?” Nash asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“How much cash did you give him? That’s what you do. You try to solve problems with money. Try to buy your way out of feeling pain. But you can’t. You can’t buy Dad into sobriety. You couldn’t buy me into a life you were comfortable with. And you sure as fuck can’t make yourself feel better about breaking Naomi’s heart by handing her a wad of cash.”
