The Bet (Winslow Brothers 1)

What is he doing?

I furrow my brow and look at Remy.

“I know, man. He’s all over the place. One minute, he looks as if he’s trying to flirt with every skirt in the room, and the next, it’s as if he remembers he wore his chastity belt tonight.”

Jude has always been a panty-charming kind of guy who downright revels in female attention. And that redhead is a woman I’d expect to see him go home with once last call was announced from the bar.

But he’s avoiding her—completely—and it tells my strong intuition everything I need to know.

Shit. This is exactly what I was hoping it wasn’t…

“I think even a blind man could put these puzzle pieces together.”

Rem’s eyes move off the freak show our brother is putting on in the center of the dance floor and back to me. “Wait…you think you know what’s going on with him?”

“C’mon, Rem,” I say through a harsh laugh. “You can’t be that dense, bro. There’s only one reason for a man to look like that, and it’s got tits.”

“Oh no. It’s that woman he brought to Lexi’s competition, isn’t it? Sophie, right?”

I raise my eyebrows and lean into a hard stare that Remy can read well enough. If the reason for this breakdown isn’t her, I’ll donate my left nut to scientific research.

“Well, shit, Flynn,” Rem mutters and looks out at Jude again. “I think it’s safe to say this won’t resolve without an intervention.”

“Copy that.”

Just like we’ve done what feels like a hundred times before—though, most of them occurred when we were all in our early twenties and Jude and Ty were acting like drunken idiots—Rem and I stride away from the bar to remove our brother from the crowd.

Rem on one side, me on the other, we slide our arms beneath his shoulders and drag the mess off the dance floor and up to a quieter, calmer area with fewer distractions.

Jude bitches and complains the whole way, but we ignore him and the curious looks we get from clubgoers. And we don’t stop until his ass is firmly on one of the couches in what I’m assuming is the VIP section he said he set aside for us tonight.

He glares. “What the fuck are you guys doing?”

“That’s funny. We were hoping to ask you the same thing,” Rem comments with a smirk. “You’re a goddamn lunatic tonight, and it’s high time you tell us why.”

“There’s nothing to tell. I’m just having a good time.” Jude rolls his eyes and goes to stand up, but both Rem and I shove him back down.

“Seriously?” he questions, and we nod in synchrony.

“Spill it, man,” Rem says. “What’s up?”

When Jude doesn’t say anything, I call on the last-ditch effort and mention the name of the invisible elephant in the room.

“Where’s your friend Sophie?”

I don’t miss the way his eyes flash with the kind of pain I’ve seen before. It’s an acute agony of regret and misery—and the exact pain I saw over thirteen years ago when we had to tell Remy that his bride-to-be wouldn’t be showing up at the altar.

But Jude doesn’t respond. Instead, he just sits there. Mute.

“Dude,” Rem chimes in. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but you can’t hide from the fact that you look like a psycho. Like a man who is all screwed up inside his head and has bought a one-way ticket to Spiral Town, USA.”

Jude searches Remy’s steady gaze and then moves to me.

“Rem’s right, man,” I agree. “You’re a mess.”

“Oh, is that right?” Jude snaps. “But I thought you’d be happy about this, Flynn?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You are the one who pulled me aside and gave me a real good talking-to, remember?” he announces, and every word is wrapped in sarcasm. “Told me I needed to be careful what my actions were telling Sophie. So, yeah, I guess you could say all the carefulness is what led me here.”

Rem’s gaze locks on to me. “What’d you say to him?”

Shit. I sigh. “I just tried to make him realize that bringing Sophie to our family thing was a big fucking step for him. And…” I shrug. “I mean, Rem, if you were paying any attention that night, you would’ve seen the look in her eyes, and you would know exactly why I said something. Even though, I have to admit, it wasn’t my business.”

“Definitely wasn’t your fucking business,” Jude retorts.

“I know, man. I’m sorry.” I raise both hands in the air and shake my head. “I shouldn’t have said shit.”

“Or maybe you should’ve,” Rem states. “And maybe Jude needs to buck the fuck up and tell us what really happened.”

“And why would I do that?”

“So we can help you, numbnuts,” Rem answers without batting an eye. “Because whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, you invited us here for a reason. And I’m certain it wasn’t to watch you play clown show on the dance floor. I mean, come on. Think about what’s going on here. How many times in your life has Flynn given you a talk that was unnecessary? Words are like gold to this son of a bitch, dude. You know that.”