Page 102 of Love Thy Brother
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
River held the sandwich plate out.
I took it and waited. If he was deflecting, he’d have to do better than that. Like, get my dick out or something.
As if he’d heard my brain falling into the gutter, River’s gaze drifted between my face and my crotch. Heat flared in his coal-dark eyes, but he didn’t touch me. He watched me eat and folded his face into a cute little frown. “All right. Fine. I didn’t want to watch it without you either.”
I grinned. Hard.
He gave me the finger and stomped off to the kitchen to bang dirty plates around. Didn’t sound like he was washing them, but who the fuck cared?
I flopped on the couch and put the news on while I poked around on my phone. I was too old and criminal for most social media, but fan edits were motherfucking life, as long as I avoided shit I hadn’t watched yet.
The Joker had a TikTok account. No idea who ran it, as it definitely wasn’t any of the moody dudes who owned the place, but whoever it was made sick vids. The Joker had a crazy history, and it showed in the kooky old building and the loyalty of the locals who claimed the entire back bar as their own, no tourists allowed.
I watched the latest clip, searching for Jonsey in the crowd, but I came up blank and unsurprised. Skylar would burn the place down before it became a drug den.
Always fire, isn’t it?I’d never thought about it until we’d almost lost Saint, but maybe I needed some new fucking jokes.
“What are you pouting about?” River waved a fresh mug under my nose. In his other hand, he held a Swizzels Double Dip from who the hell knew where. Maybe Nash. He was the fun uncle who always had sweets in his pocket, though I couldn’t for the fucking life of me think of a reason why he’d have been here any time in recent memory. Not now I knew him and Orla weren’t fucking.
“You really gonna eat that?”
River shrugged. “Better than crack.”
I put my phone down. “That a thing?”
“What?”
“Crack. You been hitting pipes as well as K?”
River’s expression soured. “What are you asking me? If I’m a crackhead?”
Was I? Maybe. The longer I spent with River, the more I noticed how restless he was for something I couldn’t see. Fidgety. Agitated. He’d been anxious since he was a teenager, but this felt different. Like there was a demon inside he was fighting every day to silence. Was he an addict? Hard to say. To my knowledge, he hadn’t got lit since I’d invaded his life, but if he was fucking struggling, I wanted to know.
Fuck, Ineededto know. “I’m asking how deep into that shit you are. So I can help if you need it.”
River’s face did something complicated. Anger, hurt, and sadness passed through his features. But there was amusement too, wry and droll. So maybe he wouldn’t deck me. “I’m not into stimulants, boo. You think I need help staying awake?”
“What do you need help with?”
River tapped his head. “Being quiet. Happy. Content. I only get fucked up when Oscar’s not around. When he is, I can do without it.”
Something settled inside me. But not for long. All I’d ever wanted for River was for him to be happy. “What about now? You thinking about it?”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Whatever you lean on when Hunky McFisherman is at sea.”
“You know he’s straight, right? Even if I did want to bone him, it wouldn’t fucking fly.”
“You’re wrong.”
“About what? Oscar’s sexuality?”
“No. The not-flying part. Riv, even inanimate objects would bone you if you asked.”
