He vaguely heard a salesman ask if they needed anything. Same went for Marcus telling him they needed to look around first. Seeing the racks of tuxedos brought it all home. This was it. Marcus had been right. His impulsiveness had ended up kicking him in the balls.
“I’m going to lose the bet.”
“What?” Marcus pulled his head out of the row of black jackets. “What’d you say?”
“I’m screwed, Marc. I won’t have a date on Saturday.”
“It’s not Saturday yet.” He returned to looking at sizes. “There’s still time.”
Jack shook his head, not that Marcus was paying attention. “I mean I’d rather lose than give up Ed.”
“Who says you can’t have both?”
Jack stared a hole in Marcus’s back. Was he even listening? Both? That wasn’t an option. “It’s an either-or situation.”
“Look, it’ll work out in the end,” Marcus said tightly. “It has to. Now start looking. We don’t have a lot of time since you showed up late.”
Jack was screwed. Scanning the store, he wondered if the place would give away empty packing boxes.
* * *
“No,” Jack said to Marcus, spinning around as he reached the deserted living room. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Marcus’s voice was blunt, and his brow pinched. Jack shook his head as he planted himself at one end of the sofa. “We both know you can if you want to.”
“Just let it go. Please?” Jack glanced at the wooden clock mounted to the wall—still a couple of hours before Ed would be there. He sighed and looked back at his brother. “It’s hard enough doing this without you being upset.”
“I’m not upset,” Marcus said with a glare, “just confused. Why not?”
“He won’t like it.”
“So? You two aren’t married. Hell, you just started going out.”
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and rested his head back, staring up at the ceiling. “Marcus… I know that, but I really like him.”
“Enough that you’d move out?” The sofa dipped as Marcus sat on other end. “Because I know that’s what you’ll do.”
Jack understood his brother’s frustration. “You don’t need to move out with me. You should stay.”
“Like I’d do that.”
“Why not? I lost, not you.”
“That’s just it, you haven’t lost yet.” Marcus bucked off the sofa and paced in front of Jack. “I’m not suggesting you date Brant, just bring him as your date. I’ve told him the whole thing. He knows this isn’t a date date. What’s the problem?”
“Ed won’t see it that way.”
“But it’s the truth.” Marcus screwed on his lawyer face. “You’re not going on a date, just bring Brant as your—”
“Date. That’s what it’s called, Marcus, a date.” Jack leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and linked his fingers. “Ed’s already made it clear how he’d feel if I bring someone else to the formal.”
“Why does he care?” Marcus flung his arms out, and Jack flinched at the frustration in his tone. “It’s not like he wants to come.”
“That’s just it. I think he does want to come, but it’s too much, too soon.”
“All the more reason he shouldn’t care if you go with someone just as a friend. Look—” Marcus sat next to him again. “—if he really cares—”
“Don’t, Marcus!”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t start with the if he really cares bit. He does care. A lot!” Jack knew it with every bit of himself. “This whole not being out is eating him up.”
“But why can’t he let you come with a friend?”
“Would Nessa be cool if you brought Michele Listerman?”
“What?”
“You heard me. If Nessa couldn’t make it, would she be cool if you brought another hot girl in her place?”
“No, but this is different.”
“What if you had made the bet? Would she be okay with you taking Michele?” He knew the answer, but he needed Marcus to see it too.
“I don’t know. Maybe. But this is different. If she couldn’t make it, then yes, she might be mad. Ed could come, but he won’t. Totally different.”
It didn’t feel that way to Jack. “Marcus, I really like him. I’ve told him everything. Everything. Not only didn’t he run away, he pulled closer.”
“Relationships come and go; this might not last.”
“Dad met Mom sophomore year.” He raised an eyebrow. “He told me he knew she was the one after just one date.”
“You think this is the one?” Marcus sounded skeptical.
“Yes, I do.” Jack’s heart fluttered, saying that aloud. God, the truth was practically bursting out of him. “I’d rather move out than hurt him. It’s just a room. I’ll still be friends with the guys, and nothing will break you and me apart.”
He bumped their shoulders but didn’t get the smile he wanted.
“Don’t fool yourself. It’s not just a room.”
The words cut Jack to the bone. Marcus’s hurt was palpable, and that yanked at Jack’s gut, making the fluttering disappear.
“We wanted this since we were thirteen,” he said. “Dad went here, our dad and yours, and they were the best of friends. Just like us. I want my kids to come here. You might not be thinking kids, but I am.”