Best Fake Fiance (Loveless Brothers 2)

“Approximately five years,” he says. “And I’ve been aging it in a suitable place.”

I give him a look for being obtuse, but I take a sip anyway.

It’s good. It’s a little weird — it’s smokier than a bourbon, a little sweet, and has a distinct note of wet rock — but it’s also delicious.

I take another sip. We’re all gathered around his fireplace, on two couches facing each other, a coffee table in front of us, a bear skin rug in front of the fireplace, which doesn’t currently contain a fire because it’s almost summer.

Yes, Levi the vegetarian has a bear skin rug. He didn’t shoot the bear himself. It’s a long story. Its name is Jebediah.

“Okay,” I say, leaning back onto my couch, Eli next to me. “Let me guess, I’m here because you think I’m wrong for being pissed at Charlie and you’re going to tell me to get over it and forgive her, because you all like her and think she’s fun and don’t want her to stop coming around.”

I take another sip. The weird/good balance is starting to tip in favor of good.

Also, I didn’t drive myself here.

“Not even close,” Eli says, propping his feet on the coffee table, which is a long, glossy slice of …tree, I guess. “You’ve been a total dick to everyone for the past twenty-four hours and mom needs a break from your shit.”

“I’m being a dick because—”

“Stop it, we know why you’re being a dick,” Seth says, his posture matching Eli’s. I put my feet on the table too, just for the hell of it. “We don’t care, we just need you out of the house before Mom kicks you out and locks the door behind you.”

“Be mad at Charlie all you want,” Levi says, swirling his own whiskey. “Just stop stomping around and snapping at people about using coasters.”

“I specifically said don’t go to the sliding rocks,” I say, ignoring the fact that we’re not talking about Charlie. “Seth, you were there. Did I not say that?”

“You did,” he says. “Heard it my own self.”

“And she took her!” I say.

“Indeed,” agrees Seth.

“And now her arm is broken, and it wouldn’t be if Charlie hadn’t just decided to do whatever the fuck she wanted to do—”

“She could have broken it anyway,” Levi points out. “There’s about a million ways to break an arm.”

“Caleb broke mine when I wouldn’t give him back his Lego Darth Vader,” Seth volunteers.

“You deserved that,” I say. “And it was an accident. He tackled you at the top of the stairs because he was seven and didn’t understand consequences very well.”

“Whereas Charlie snapped Rusty’s arm herself, on purpose,” Eli says sarcastically.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” I snap, and take another long sip.

The bourbon also has a slight aftertaste of… sage?

“You’re saying,” Levi says, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee, “That if only everyone listened to you and did exactly as you directed at all times, life would be a Norman Rockwell painting because you’d be in total control of everything.”

“I’m obviously not saying that,” I go on. “But she’s reckless, she’s impulsive, she’s a scatterbrained mess who nearly got us arrested Friday night—”

“Hold on.”

“What?”

“Yeah, we need that story,” Seth finishes, leaning forward. “Daniel, did you have… fun?”

I just give him a long, withering look. Or, I try. Seth doesn’t wither. He just waits, glass between his hands, leaning forward.

“The question is,” Levi says. “Would Daniel know he were having fun if he had it?”

“Oh, for sure,” Eli says, grinning. “Daniel was real fun once. How do you think he got Rusty?”

“Do you still have your badass snake tattoo?” Seth asks.

“I’ve still got a tattoo of the constellation Serpens, yes,” I say, draining my whiskey glass.

“You mean the one you got because, and I quote, ‘snakes are badass’?” Seth says.

We all have constellation tattoos. We got them together, on Caleb’s eighteenth birthday, all five of us. I’ve got serpens, the snake, Levi’s got corvus, the crow, Eli’s got the dragon and the north star, Seth’s got Scorpio, and Caleb’s got the sextant, because he’s always been a nerd.

“At least I didn’t get my ex-girlfriend’s zodiac sign,” I counter.

Seth’s face goes flat. Everyone goes quiet.

I regret saying it instantly, even though it’s been at least five years.

Then he drains his whiskey glass.

“She wasn’t my ex at the time,” he says, his face lightening. “Besides, scorpions are also badass. Tell us the story of how you had fun already.”

I tell them, mostly because I feel bad for bringing up Seth’s ex, Delilah: the milkshakes, the trespassing, the skinny dipping, Officer Sherman.

I leave out the part about barebacking and barely getting away with it, because there’s such a thing as oversharing.

When I finish, Levi and Eli are smirking, and Seth is full-on grinning like it’s Christmas morning.

“You,” he says. “Naked. Outside. On someone else’s property. My God, Daniel, that’s about two steps away from some real law-breaking, like changing lanes without signaling or jaywalking.”