Page 94 of Love Thy Brother
The quiet brother didn’t stop. Just tipped his helmet and roared away.
I shut my engine off as he disappeared around the corner. On the narrow driveway, Rubi’s bobber still rumbled behind me, the sound as familiar as he was. Comforting, despite the reasons that had chased us here.
Man, I was so fucking drawn to him.
He killed his engine and swung his leg over his hog, and I was there. Catching him. Holding him up. Taking the weight from his bruised knee, whether he liked it or not.
I eased his helmet off, revealing his handsome face, nose ring catching the light from the flickering lamp on his porch. “All right?”
He nodded, slowly, his smile softer than our fucked-up circumstances deserved. “Careful. I could get used to you being nice.”
“Shut the fuck up and get inside.”
He didn’t argue. Just passed me the key from his pocket.
I hadn’t been in Rubi’s house in years. The last time had been my twenty-first birthday. He’d given me the chain I still wore around my neck and a kiss on the cheek, and I still wasn’t fucking over it.
Back then, the house had been a building site. Now, as I pushed the door open and stepped into the hallway, it was clear I’d missed a lot. The bare floorboards were still there, but they were restored now, flanked by walls cleared of woodchip and spongy wallpaper, and spotlights in the ceiling. “Love what you’ve done with the place.”
Rubi snorted. “Sometimes I forget, and it’s a brand-new house every time I come here.”
“How often is that?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Who needs it the most.”
He stepped around me and toed his boots off, shrugging out of his jacket. He hung it and held his hand out for mine.
I passed it over and left my boots by his, then followed him to a kitchen that was twice the size of mine. “How long are we staying here?”
Rubi shrugged and opened the fridge, one hand covering his mouth as he yawned. “Till we know more.”
“Then what?”
“Who the fuck—oh, you little beaut.”
“Who?”
“Mats. We have food.”
I joined him at the fridge and peered over his shoulder. “How do you know it was him?”
“Bocadillos, baby.”
As if that cleared it up. As if it mattered as Rubi yawned again, this time hard enough to crack his jaw.
I reached over him and shut the fridge. “Show me the living room.”
He shot me a quizzical glance but led the way out of the kitchen all the same.
The living room was at the front of the house, the big bay window looking out onto the street. I closed the blinds, shutting the world out, and pointed at the enormous couch. “Sit.”
Rubi smirked a little. Amused. Confused. Both. “Why?”
“Because I said so.”
