Sixteen
Jensen
Patrick hadn’t stopped laughing at me for a solid ten minutes. If I were a violent man, I would have put my fist through his face a long while ago. Instead, I waited patiently for him to chill the fuck out. Austin would be here in about twenty minutes, and Patrick needed to get his shit together before then.
It was bad enough that Morgan knew about what had happened with Emery. I didn’t want Austin to know anything. Morgan and I, at least, were on the same page. We always had been; it didn’t matter that she was seven years younger than me. For a long time, everyone had thought she and Landon were twins, but they couldn’t have been further apart as far as personalities went. And, sometimes, I thought it was scary how much she and I were on the same wavelength.
So, at least I knew she wasn’t going to run to Landon to try to make things right. I just had to figure out what I was going to do. Because texting Emery all week and getting radio silence had clearly not been working out well for me.
And I should have just left her alone. That was what I’d said I wanted even if it was a lie. It just wasn’t smart to bring her into all of my baggage. Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And texting her. And I was considering showing up at her sister’s house with a boom box and waiting until she came outside.
No, I probably wouldn’t do that last one. That only worked in the movies.
“Tell me again that the girl from the wedding is Landon’s ex-girlfriend. It’s funnier every time you say it,” Patrick said.
I stared back at him with a look of deep disinterest. “How about we skip that part?”
“Okay, okay,” Patrick said. He straightened up and wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m just imagining you striking out now. I’ve seen you pick up more girls than most famous athletes.”
“I didn’t strike out,” I told him through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, y’all fucked, and then she straight fucked with your head. What were you thinking, man?”
“I was thinking that things were too complicated with Emery already,” I told him honestly. I leaned back against the door to my office with a weary expression. Things were too complicated. Much too complicated. Yet part of me didn’t give two fucks. We’d had an amazing night, and then I’d slept through the night. Both things were nothing short of a miracle in my world.
“Complicated?” Patrick asked. He poured out two shots of top-shelf bourbon. The liquid made a glub, glub, glub sound as it flowed out of the crystal decanter. “Shit’s not complicated, Jensen. You like her. That’s why you’re freaking out.”
“That would be a problem,” I told him.
Patrick shook his head and passed me a shot. He held his up in the air. “The problem is with your head, man. Get in good while you can. You don’t know if things will go south, and stressing about it will only ruin it. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
We each tipped back the shot of bourbon, and Patrick stood from the desk. He grinned with a boyish look. He never thought too hard or long on his own problems. It was why he and Austin were still bachelors and hadn’t had serious girlfriends since college.
I hated to tell him that I did know that things would go south. It was a guarantee with me considering my past. I hated thinking that I liked Emery because I didn’t want to hurt her. And, if she actually got to know me, it would be inevitable.
“Y’all ready?” Morgan asked, appearing from around the corner of my office.
She was decked out in a shimmery red cocktail dress with her dark hair curled, nearly reaching to her waist. Her eyes shot to Patrick. We were both sporting the standard-issue tuxedo. Her look said one thing and one thing only. And I wished she and Patrick would fuck it out or move on already.
Not that I was one to talk right at this moment.
“Yeah. Austin?” I asked.
Austin walked into the office a second later, carrying another bottle of bourbon. It was half-empty, and in his eyes, I could see that he was already drunk. All-too familiar at this point. As much as I needled him about it, I did fucking worry about him becoming the alcoholic that our father had been.
“Good to go, bro,” Austin said. He held up the bottle, as if in a toast.
“Let’s get upstairs then,” I told them.
We all walked out of my office and down the hall to the elevator that led to the top floor of the Wright Construction building. It was a massive high-rise downtown that overlooked the Texas Tech campus. The restaurant at the top had a panoramic view of the skyline and some of the best food in town. We held business dinners up here and hosted parties, and every year, it was the spot for the annual Wright Construction office Christmas party.