Too Hard: Chapter 22

“I DON’T KNOW…” CONOR MUTTERS, staring at the invitations. “This feels too fancy, don’t you think?”

Colt snatches one from the box by my coffee table, turning the black and gold card as he trails his finger over the engraved script. “I think it’s the right amount of too-much-out-there for Logan.”

“Fuck you,” Logan booms, a big smile stretching his face.

He shouldn’t be here, but he was driving Theo up the wall with his questions, so in the end, we invited him to join the planning committee of his own bachelor party. He’s not complained once, so we’ve not kicked him out yet.

“How many have you printed?” Nico asks from the barstool, his broad shoulders squared, jaw tense.

The cloud over his head isn’t because of us, the fact we’re holding this meeting in my condo instead of the Country Club or his house, or that we’re drinking beer while he’s clutching a bottle of water.

The reason is Mia. More specifically that she’s out.

Well, not out out. She’s actually in. At home, but not alone. She’s with Thalia, Rose, and Vee, planning Cassidy’s bachelorette party. Nothing out of the ordinary, right?

Well…

Instead of choosing the location, gifts, and hotels over a glass of wine, Thalia decided it would be so much fun to vet male strippers before hiring three.

It’s why we’re all stuck in my condo. We didn’t feel like going out tonight, and the girls are at Nico’s house, watching a dozen guys take their clothes off.

Needless to say, my older brother is barely keeping his ass seated for longer than three minutes at a time. He mostly paces the room, pumping his fists.

“Oh unclench,” Theo huffs over his shoulder from where he’s pissing off Ghost by tapping his fingers on the glass. “They’re fine. They’re at your house. You’ve got cameras all over the place and panic buttons everywhere.”

Yes, he does. Installed a week after Mia moved in. She accidentally tapped the one under the piano one day while Nico was in the basement gym. The second his phone blipped its distinctive alarm, he practically teleported upstairs, barreling through the house like a fucking wrecking ball.

“We’ve got fifty invitations. Enough?” I ask, steering the topic back toward the bachelor party, but before anyone can chip in, our phones ping in unison, a message in the group chat.

Nico groans and I laugh, staring at Rose’s message. It’s a picture of a naked fireman, yellow helmet covering his dick.

“You might want to disinfect the living room,” Conor tells Nico. “And buy a new couch.”

Me: You know you’re not supposed to take pictures, sis?

Rose: No? Too little too late.

“They’re having much more fun. Why didn’t we order any strippers to check out?”

“Because we’re spending the night in Vegas and the girls won’t come all this way to dance in your condo, bro,” Shawn mutters. “Can we please get this shit organized so I can go home? It’s been a long week, boys. I’m exhausted.”

And so we do. We organize the guest list, book the hotel, flights, and VIP booths for a few clubs—strip club included. I doubt we’ll spend much time watching women grinding around poles when my brothers are so fucking whipped.

When we’re just about done, Conor clears his throat, visibly tense as he stares Logan down. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something. I wanted to ask Cass at the same time, but it might be better to ask you first, so if the answer is no Cass won’t need to know a thing, since, now I’m about to ask, I kind of think it’s a dick move.”

Logan runs a hand down his face, smirking at Conor. “You always did know how to start a conversation by immediately shooting yourself in the foot. What’s going on?”

“I promised Vee a year before I propose—”

He’s drowned out by a booming choir of no ways, holy shits and fucking hells.

“You’ve been dating six months, Conor. Slow down,” Shawn says. “Why so soon?”

“What am I supposed to wait for?”

“Nothing,” Nico cuts in, glaring at Shawn. “Life’s too short to wait around.”

“Agreed. I got married six months after I met Thalia,” Theo says. “I don’t regret it, but… what does your proposal have to do with Logan and Cass?” He turns to rummage through my chilled drink cabinet, pulling out a bottle of champagne.

“He wants to propose during the wedding weekend, right?” Colt asks, leaning back in his chair. “I’m with you on this one, bro. It’s a dick move.”

Logan cocks an eyebrow. “Why is it a dick move?”

“Because it’s your day. Yours and Cassidy’s. Who do you think the attention will shift to if he goes down on one knee?” Jack chips in. “Sorry, Conor, but that’s how I see it.”

“No, it’s cool. That’s what you’re all for, a bit of fucking honesty. Alright, I’ll revert to my New Year’s Eve proposal idea.”

“Hold on a minute.” Logan yanks his cap off, running a hand through his mess of dark hair. “It’s my wedding. Don’t I get a say in this? When do you want to do it?”

“After the rehearsal dinner. The whole family will be there, so I thought it would work okay.”

What he’s not saying aloud, but we all know by now, is that Vee loves this family like her own. We all thought Mia would be Mom’s favorite with their shared passion for music, but Mom and Vee connect on a different level. It’s fascinating to watch sometimes. And because Vee’s mom died, I think Conor’s trying to include her in our family as much as possible.

What better way than letting us witness their engagement?

“I have to run it by Cassidy, but I don’t see an issue. I don’t think she will, either,” Logan finally says.

“I’m with Logan,” I say, accepting a champagne flute from Theo. “You got the ring yet?”

“Yeah, I—”

“You should’ve fucking called us before you went shopping,” Colt groans, folding his hands. “Can you return it?”

Conor’s eyebrows bunch in the middle. “You haven’t even seen it yet!”

“Doesn’t matter. Your taste in jewelry is… really fucking bad,” Nico says. “The only good-looking accessories you buy are watches.”

“It’s a nice ring,” Conor huffs, pulling his phone to show us the picture. His face immediately falls when we cringe. “What? What’s wrong with it?”

“What’s right?” I chuckle, patting his back. “Come on, seriously? is that the biggest diamond they had?”

“No, they had seven carats, but it was square. This is six. The bigger, the better, right?”

“The diamond doesn’t have to reflect the size of your dick,” Logan chuckles, drying his champagne flute.

It takes another half an hour of innocent banter before Conor settles on a prettier and far less obnoxious ring.

Nico’s out the door the moment we call it a day, and Colt follows suit. Within the next half an hour, everyone but Theo leaves. He lingers, nursing his beer, staring into the distance like he’s got something to get off his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says.

I look over my shoulder, checking whether someone’s hiding on the patio, but no. We’re alone. My eyebrows knot in the middle, not a clue what he’s apologizing for.

“You’ll have to elaborate.” I rest both elbows on my knees. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t want you to babysit River.”

“You didn’t? Good to know… mind telling me why? Am I untrustworthy or something?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s fucking stupid, Cody. I got an earful from Thalia about it already, so spare me.”

I toss back the last of my beer, setting the empty bottle on the coffee table. “You’re not explaining much, bro. Out with it.”

“I was… jealous.”

A semi-horrified scoff of amusement saws past my lips. “Jealous? What the fuck do you mean? When have I ever given you a reason to be jealous? I don’t even tell your wife she looks nice when—”

“I wasn’t jealous about Thalia, Cody,” he says, cringing before a long sigh leaves his lips. “I told you it’s stupid. You’ve always been great with kids. Josh, then Aiden, but Noah… you’ve got something special with him. It’s almost like he’s yours. I didn’t want you babysitting River because I thought you wouldn’t give him the same attention.”

As grateful as I am for his honesty, I’m fucking offended. I love all my nephews equally. But kids don’t take to everyone equally. They don’t pretend, so if they like you, they like you, and if they don’t, you’re fucked.

“I don’t favor Noah, Theo. He favors me. I’m Logan’s first point of call because Noah enjoys spending time with me best. I treat him the same way I’ve always treated Josh, and yet I’m not Josh’s favorite uncle, Logan is.”

“Yeah, I know,” he mutters, nervously toying with the bottle. “Like I said, Thalia already did the talking.”

“She said you have to apologize?”

He lets out a laugh, relaxing a bit. “You know she did, but it would’ve occurred to me at some point. Especially because you did great with him.”

“I had help,” I say, and oh fuck blares inside my head before the words are out.

“Help?”

Running my fingers through my hair, I busy my hands redoing my bun. “Yeah, a friend stopped by when River was crying, and helped me calm him down.”

He must notice I purposely omitted a pronoun. I’m not proud I let Blair in that day. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be where I am right now—very well acquainted with her gorgeous body.

Not wanting to make this a big deal, which it will be if I tell Theo because he’s a fucking gossip, I don’t bother explaining.

“I get the feeling you don’t want to share, so I won’t push, but you know where I am if you need to talk.”

“Nothing worth sharing.”

“Yeah, if you say so,” he sets the bottle aside. “I better go pick up River. Mom’s probably pulling her hair out by now.”

“She had seven of us, and we were all different. I doubt there’s anything she can’t deal with.”

“I’m sure, but—”

“You miss him already,” I chuckle, walking him to the door. “Call me if you need a babysitter. I mean it.”

“I know and I will.” He pats my back, stepping out of the condo with a stupid grin. “Put a word in for me with Thalia next time you see her, alright?”

I burst out laughing, but it dies on my tongue when I notice Blair. She freezes midway into the hallway, eyes jumping between Theo and me. A second before he follows my line of sight, one eyebrow raised, she dashes round the corner.

“You alright, Cody?” he asks, still frowning. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m good, just… never mind.” I shake it off as if I had a hallucination or remembered something I didn’t want to remember. “Say hi to Mom and Dad.”

“Do it yourself,” he huffs, backing away toward the staircase. “Mom’s complaining she only ever sees you at the get-togethers these days. Make an effort.”

“I will.”

He turns the way he’s heading, lifting one hand in a silent see ya as he disappears behind the same corner as Blair.

I listen, waiting until he sees her and freaks the fuck out, but other than retreating footsteps, the building is completely silent. She must’ve gone upstairs.

A minute passes. Then another, and I’m still rooted to the spot in my doorway, waiting for her.

Eventually she peeks around the corner like she’s checking the coast is clear. Her face falls, chin wobbles, and my veins fill with red-hot fury.

I’ll kill whichever fucker laid a finger on her.

She’s barefoot, her stockings ripped at her thighs, dress torn at her cleavage, barely hiding her areolas. Her hair is messy, and her makeup doesn’t look any better: red lipstick smeared up to her ear, black mascara river deltas traversing her cheeks.

A cold, icy dread settles in my stomach. I need whoever did this right here, right now. I’ll fucking kill him, I swear.

“What happened?” I ask, my voice raw, the anger stirring within me almost impossible to rein in. “Who did this to you?”

She pinches her lips, a futile attempt to keep her emotions in check as she steps further into the light to cross the hallway, tightly clutching her keys

“Don’t brush me off, B,” I warn, gripping her elbow. “Who hurt you?”

The way she jumps away from me turns the lava filling my system to ice. I grind my teeth, shoving the dark scenarios away, but it’s useless. They scramble to the front of my imagination, driving me insane.

“I’m fine,” Blair whispers, the words strained, voice brittle.

“Turn around,” I hiss.

She shakes her head, pushing the key into the lock. I have half a mind to spin her around myself, but after her reaction to my touch I’m second-guessing my every move.

“I’m fine, Cody. I promise,” she insists, barely keeping her composure.

“Fuck! Baby… turn. Around. Please.” The desperation in my voice is pitiful, but in this moment, I couldn’t care less because… shit… I don’t think I hate her anymore.

She stills. I watch her entire demeanor change before my eyes. She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin, pushes out her chest and locks herself like that as she turns to face me.

If you ignored her eyes, she’s a good enough actress to have you convinced. She’s putting on a performance worth a standing ovation, but her eyes, those damn blue, sad, beautiful eyes, give her away, swimming with fear and humiliation.

“I’m fine,” she repeats with a conviction that would fool anyone but me. “Goodnight, Cody.”

“No.” Instinctively, I reach to stop her turning away, but freeze before I touch her. Scaring her is the last thing I want. Closing my fist, I let my hand fall to my side. “Talk to me, B.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she snaps, hurt morphing to anger. “Leave me the hell alone, okay?” She turns around, poking my chest with her long finger, fresh tears cascading over her nose. “We’re not friends. We’re nothing! I don’t need your pity!”

“You’re not nothing to me,” I grind out, adding something I never thought I’d consider. “I’m across the hall if you change your mind. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

“I won’t come. We’re done. I can’t do this anymore.”

I’m rendered speechless, and she uses that moment to flee. With visible stiffness in every move, she enters her condo, slamming the door shut while I’m reeling.

We’re not done.

She can’t mean it. She’s shaken up, doesn’t trust me, and needs space. That’s all it is, but the protective instinct roaring within me hates the very fucking concept of space right now.