“That's the same thing I thought about me and Jem. You see that stopping me?”
“I'm going,” I say sternly, spinning and pushing through the crowds of people.
“Just wanna see you happy too, bro,” he calls to my back, but I don't turn around.
+++
EVEN THOUGH I really do need to be up early in the morning, sleep is impossible when I get home to my apartment in Bushwick. There are too many images of Ibbie and my brother taking up space in my head and it makes me want to smash the hell out of my furniture. I try to lose myself in my charcoals for a while, but for the first time I fail to disappear into my art.
Aleix finally gets back an hour and a half after I do, still completely sober. He rarely drinks more than a beer or two, unwilling to lose control and composure, especially when he's trying to seal a deal – whether that be in business or with a woman.
“Thanks for letting me crash here tonight. Didn't feel like driving home,” he tells me, loosening his tie and collapsing on my leather sofa. “I should just buy an apartment here. I'm in the city enough.”
Yeah, that's how rich big bro is. Rich enough to own a house an hour outside the city and still be able to afford a casual apartment for when he can't be assed driving home. Why the hell would a girl like Ibbie want me when she could have someone like him?
“You get Ibbie home okay?”
“Course I did. Escorted that cutie right to her front door.” That's Aleix for you, ever the gentleman. It's why, despite the fact that he's after the woman I want, I can't hate him. He's just a good guy. Way better than me.
“Planning on seeing her again?” I ask casually, flicking on the TV.
“Hell yeah. You've seen her right? That chick is hot as hell.” And funny, and smart, and sweet, and mother fucking crazy. “Did you know she's an actress? Never dated an actress before.”
I keep my eyes planted firmly on the TV screen, though I have no clue what's even showing. “You sure this is a good idea? You live pretty far away.”
“Dude, it's just an hour. Not like I need to hop on a plane.”
“I don't know, I don't think you and Ibbie are a good fit.”
“This 'cause the two of you don't get along?” I see him grin out of the corner of my eye, and I realize Ibbie must have told him. “Or 'cause you wish you got along better?”
I whip my head around to face him. There's a knowing look in his eyes, and it rubs me up the wrong way. “I just think you should back off, that's all. She's got stuff going on. Her shows and. . .and her. . .other stuff.”
He roars with laughter, punching me in the shoulder and stealing control of the remote. “Come on, baby bro. Lighten up. It's just a little fun.”
I resist the urge to punch him. But only just.
Chapter 3
Ibbie
“SO, HOW'S THAT show of yours going?” my cousin, Sabrina, asks distractedly as we make a very late dinner after the two of us have gotten home from work – and by make dinner, I mean we scavenge for leftover takeout in the fridge. I don't think Sabrina really cares about my show, but she always makes sure to ask whenever we briefly see each other around the apartment. As a lawyer, Sabrina probably works even harder than I do and is home way less, and that's saying something. She's pretty awesome in that ball busting, career woman way. Most people look at her and see this tall, blonde haired model lookalike and they never expect much from her. It's kind of her secret weapon because the second she hits the courtroom she's like BAM! Take that bitches! Yeah, my cousin kicks ass. I was stoked when she offered me her spare room in her apartment after I finished college, especially since I love Hell's Kitchen so frigging much.
“S'good,” I mumble around a mouthful of cold pizza. I could go into it more, but I don't think she's actually that interested.
“I should come see it sometime. I've always liked Cinderella.”
So sure, maybe she isn't the most attentive of listeners when it comes to anything that doesn't involve her job, and maybe she doesn't actually have much of a clue about my life even though we live together, but I forgive her since she's so busy ridding the city of criminals and all. She's like Daredevil, except she's not blind and she doesn't dress up as a ninja at night and kick bad guy butt. I think. I mean, who knows? The girl's hardcore.
“Yup.” I don't bother to tell her that it's Pride and Prejudice, mostly because I already have like, a squillion times. Besides, we both know she's not really coming. I still appreciate the pretense though.
My pocket buzzes with a text, and Sabrina laughs at me as I immediately drop the gross pizza to phone grope myself. I expect it to be Aleix, because he's texted me after each of my shows this week which is just all kinds of sweet.
Yo, loser. Going out with my brother again?
Ugh, definitely not Aleix. I really shouldn't text Walt back because it just encourages his bad behavior, but I always find myself doing it anyway. He brings out the inner bitch in me.
And that's your business because?
“How're things going with your new guy?” Sabrina kicks off her killer heels and sits down on the metal swivel stool in her stylish kitchen.
Because I think you should leave my brother alone. He's too nice – you'll corrupt him.
I roll my eyes. This guy makes me roll my eyes so much I swear one day they're going to drop right out of my head. “It's going good,” I tell Sabrina. “We're having a lot of fun.”
Aleix and I have been out a couple of times since that night we met at the bar. He's cool about my schedule, because he has a pretty busy one himself. We've grabbed lunch once or twice and he's taken me out for drinks and dancing after one of my shows. I like him. I like him a lot.
Mind your own business, butt head! And stop texting me!
Aleix is nothing like his irritating younger brother. I don't even get how the two of them can be related, to be honest. He's the perfect gentleman, for one thing. He holds open doors for me and pulls out my chairs – whereas Walt would probably slam the door in my face. He's sweet and nice and he treats me like a lady. And he'd been to my show twice. Twice! Walt has never been to my show, not once. Every other one our friends have been except him. Even Fábia has seen it. EVEN FÁBIA!
You'd miss me if I didn't text you anymore. Go on, it's okay to admit it.
Like a hole to the head, you big spazoid.
Stop flirting with me, you're embarrassing yourself.
Vom.
It's obvious that you want me. No point denying it. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Except everyone we know.
God, even when he's not here he still drives me crazier than anyone I've ever met.
I want you like I want a flesh eating venereal disease. STOP TEXTING ME!!