Spite Club (Mason Brothers 1)

“No coffee,” I said, lowering myself onto the sofa, which had clothes and a pair of old sneakers still piled onto the other half. This was definitely the den of a guy who lived alone. Nick’s condo was tidier than this, but not much. The similarities between the two brothers was amazing. “I’m fine.”

“Well, I want coffee.” Andrew looked at Nick. “Nick, make coffee.”

“Be nice, fuckwad,” Nick replied. “I didn’t bring her here for you to scare the shit out of her.”

“Evie looks fine to me, dipshit,” Andrew replied. The insults weren’t sharp, but were spoken like everyday language. “Go make coffee or something.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Nick said, and left the room.

It was weird. It was kind of funny, yet the tension was as thick as a steak. There was love between these two brothers, and insults, and something else unspoken. Something in the history between them that I didn’t know. Something that had to do with me, yet had nothing to do with me at all. I couldn’t make sense of it. But Andrew had obviously sent Nick out of the room for a reason, so I waited to see what it was.

When Nick had gone, Andrew pressed his hands together again, pressing his fingertips to his chin. His expression softened, and it was only when I saw it that I realized his expression had been tense in the first place. When he spoke his voice was lowered, quiet and sincere. “He talks about you,” he said. “You’re the only woman he’s ever talked about.”

I sat up straight, my stomach flipping. “What?” I nearly whispered it, like we were keeping a secret.

“He’s never brought a girl here before,” Andrew said. “Never.” He sat back in his chair. “Let me guess. He hasn’t told you anything about me?”

I shook my head.

Andrew let his voice fall back into normal range, so Nick could probably hear it. “I’ll tell you what happened to me,”

he said, “since you’re probably wondering. People always do, though they’re too polite to ask. It’s why I don’t leave the house very much. I could, but what’s the point?”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” I said to him. “It’s none of my business.”

“I disagree,” Andrew said. There was a bang from the kitchen, and Nick swore. Andrew flicked his gaze to the doorway, and for a second his look was fond and exasperated and so full of love I nearly got up and kissed him. Then he looked back at me and said, “I was in an accident five years ago. I was at a party, drunk. One of my buddies offered me a ride home. He was as drunk as I was, but I got in anyway.” He shrugged. “The rest is history.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. Then I winced. “Do I sound like a jerk? I sound like a jerk.”

“You sound fine,” Andrew said. “It’s shitty. But my buddy died, and I didn’t. So technically I got the better deal.” Behind my shoulder, Nick came back into the room, and Andrew’s gaze flicked to him again before he looked back at me. “I’ll tell you the other thing people always wonder,” he said, “since you’re practically family and all. I can’t walk, but the equipment works, if you know what I mean.”

Nick banged the mug down on the desk next to Andrew, then sat on the sofa next to me. “Welcome to my world,” he said. “You see why I didn’t bring you before?”

“Just being honest,” Andrew said, a glint of humor in his eye. It was dizzying, watching the Mason brothers piss each other off. Nick sat with five inches between us, not touching me, his whole body stiff with tension, like someone had buzzed him with an electric shock. I’d never seen him like this before. I’d never known he could be like this. And I realized I was seeing a side of Nick Mason, of his life, that no other woman had ever seen, if Andrew was to be believed. It wasn’t Andrew that Nick had been hiding from me all this time, hiding from everyone he met. It was Nick himself. Who he was here. What this meant to him.

There was only me to see it. Only me. And I didn’t know what that meant.

“Okay, we got that out of the way,” Andrew said. “Evie, I hear you work in a bank. No, wait—you almost got fired from the bank. Right?”

“That’s true,” I said. Funny, since that night at my mother’s I didn’t feel embarrassed about it anymore. Especially with these two. “I’m pretty much fired, because I threw a mug of tea at my ex-boyfriend when he said I was dressed like a slut.”

Andrew took a second to close his eyes in happiness. “That story gives me total joy,” he said. “I like any woman who can whip a mug at a man’s head. Go on.”

“There isn’t much else to say,” I said. “Except that I’m not going back.”

Andrew opened his eyes again, and I could feel Nick looking at me, too. “No?” Andrew said.

“No.” I hadn’t even thought it, hadn’t formed the words in my mind, but when I said them I felt the truth of them. I wasn’t going back there, to work with those people. To work with Josh. I decided right there on Andrew’s ratty sofa. I’d rather do nothing, and starve, than go back there.

Except maybe I wouldn’t do nothing. I had the beginning of an idea.

“Okay,” Andrew said. “You’re not going back to the stupid job where you have to work with the ex-boyfriend who screwed what’s-her-name. That sounds legit. Jobs are overrated anyway. I have plenty of money, and so does Nick. We can help you out if you need it. Just say the word.”

I looked at Nick. He was watching me, but I couldn’t read his expression. “Sure,” he said. “Don’t sweat it, Evie. The rent’s paid for as long as you want.”

I had that knee-jerk reaction: No way, I don’t need any help, I’ll be fine. But my savings weren’t endless, and no way was I going to Mom for money after I flunked out of college. So I said, “Thanks for the offer. I’ll be okay for a little while, I think.” Besides, if what I was thinking worked out, I might be able to figure it out. I wanted to try.

I wanted to try doing things the way I wanted for once. Living my life the way I wanted. I was only beginning to figure out what that was.