Page 98 of One Day Like This (Excess All Areas 1)

Matt pressed his fingers to the side of his head. The large bump had gone down in the last three days, but it was still tender, the scab itchy. What hewantedwas for Jase to leave so he could spend some time with Izabel. But what heneededwas to sit down with his brother. He fired off a quick message to her to warn her.

“Cup of tea?” Matt asked.

“Beer?”

“Pretty sure the last thing we need while we’re talking is alcohol. That’s what gets us into this mess.”

“Fair enough.”

Matt made the tea in silence, trying to organise the thoughts in his head. He handed Jase a mug and then sat down with his own.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Jase asked.

“You came over here to talk. I assumed that means you have something on your mind.”

Jase took a sip of tea, leaned back in the chair, and looked out of the window. “I don’t remember much of what happened the other night. I’d been drinking for two hours before I even stepped on the stage. But I’ve seen the video. I was an idiot.”

Matt nodded. “You were.”

Jase rubbed his hands across his eyes. “I didn’t mean to be.”

“Do you honestly mean that? I mean, you’re a jerk when you’re sober too.”

Jase glanced in Matt’s direction. “Steady on, you don’t need to be a dick about it.”

“The cut on my eye is less than an inch from my eyeball, so I think I have every right to be a dick about it. Is that really who you are, Jase? Too drunk to remember?”

Jase cupped the mug in his hands and took another sip. “I’ve no idea. Do you think it’s because we have different dads?”

“What do you mean?”

“We look alike, you and me. Same dark hair and blue eyes from Grandad and Mum. But otherwise, we’re so different. We all know my dad’s hopeless. In and out of prison my whole life. I sometimes think your dad wasn’t. Like what if he was just some university kid with huge prospects. Probably some bigwig CEO now. Or a lawyer or something. Occasionally thinks back to the girl he hung out with one summer and wonders where she is. That would explain why.”

“Explain why what?”

Jase shook his head and chugged the rest of his tea. “Nothing. Look. I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I’ll try and rein it all in.” He stood and rinsed his cup.

“No, Jase, wait. What do you think it explains?”

“Who we are. What we become. Shit. I don’t know. Anyway. I’m sorry. Not just for the fight, but for being such a dick about Simon. I’m almost too scared to think about the good he’s already done because getting too attached to anything is a sure-fire sign it’s going to slip through my fingers, but it’s ... better. You seem calmer. Less stressed.”

Matt sighed. “Jase. Sit down. Let’s talk about what you meant. There’s obviously some heavy baggage you’re carrying. Let me help.”

Jase shook his head. “Nah. We’re Palmers. We don’t talk about difficult stuff. Better to brush it under the carpet and move one. I’ll see you for the rehearsals before Scotland, yeah?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before letting the door close behind him.

Matt stood and gripped the back of the dining table chair.

Jesus Christ.

It felt like only moments when he heard the key in the lock, but he realised he’d been stood there, gapping out, for over five minutes.

“Hey, babe. You’ll never guess what. We finalised the lineup for the concert today. And we have a great comedian acting as the compère for the evening.” Izabel’s voice filtered down the hallway. He heard her bags drop as she continued, the tone of her voice soothing the ache inside.

The ache he had for his brother.

Izabel appeared wearing jeans and a black roll neck sweater. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, her cheeks flushed after the walk in bad weather. “And we got the caterer to agree to a twenty percent ... Wait. Are you okay?”

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