We both stared up at the ceiling, neither one of us said a word.
"You know, Father wanted to adopt Finnley. Give him his last name since he raised him from the age of two."
"Really? Why didn't he?"
"Because Finn said it wouldn't be right to erase his real dad's name. He is the only Felton left. I think that's why he was so excited to have kids. I can't wait until you meet the brother that I know. If you like him now, you'll fall in love with him. I've heard he's addicting."
Fall in love. Addicting.
I laughed to hide my feelings. Finn clouded my mind, made my body beg for him even though he was a thousand miles away.
"When will you talk to him?"
"Don't know. I need time to focus on me. I haven't done that since my parents' death."
"Understandable."
I yawned, and Luke did too. The wine pulled my eyelids shut. I rolled over on my side, and we lay back to back.
"Goodnight, Jennifer."
"Night," I somehow responded before I completely drifted off to dreamland.
I woke to the sound of eggs sizzling and the smell of bacon. Luke stood in the kitchen wearing cotton pants that loosely hung on his hips. I rolled over and watched him crack eggs, neatly stack bacon, and pour orange juice in tall glasses. He placed his breakfast masterpiece on the little table by the window and walked to the bed to wake me, but I was too busy smiling.
"Please tell me you're not a Susie homemaker too," I said.
"I'm not. But I can cook a mean breakfast."
I rolled out of bed and zombie'd my way to the table. My head hurt, the worst kind of hurt too, wine-hangover hurt. I needed to stop drinking so much. My body hated wine in large quantities.
Luke handed me two aspirin with my orange juice, and I took them graciously.
"We drank way too much," he said, then made our plates.
"Oh God, I know. So happy we didn't do anything stupid."
"Should have," he said.
I rolled my eyes, but I didn't know if he was joking or not.
Someone once told me that a drunk man's truths were a sober man's lies, whatever that means. But I knew that Luke wouldn't do anything out of respect for Finnley. I could strip down naked and beg him to fuck me, and I know for a fact that he would deny me. Might be hard, but he would. I had no doubt about that.
"I know you've officially friend-zoned me," he said.
I took a sip of my orange juice. "You've been friend-zoned for a looooong time, Luke. But that's cute you just realized it."
"You must not be a morning person. Just don't become a little Finn," he said.
I lifted my eyebrows. "I should be saying that to you."
"That's not fair considering he's older than me, and you know, we are brothers."
"Uh-huh." I laughed.
We finished our food, perfect crispy bacon and fluffy eggs, and Luke carried the dishes to the sink.
I stared out the window at the people on the sidewalk below. The noises of the movement from the street below seeped in and all I wanted to do was discover Paris.
"I've got to start my project if I'm to make the deadline."
"Can I go with you… and watch?"
"It's going to be boring. I mean, I'll be at it all day long."
"It's okay, I'll check my email and play online."
I hurried to my suitcase and pulled out a pair of blue jeans and a sweater. Then I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, hair, and was ready to go with my laptop as Luke grabbed his backpack full of pencils and paintbrushes.
Before we left, his phone vibrated on the small table. He walked over, picked it up, then narrowed his eyes as he walked toward me.
"It's for you," he said, as we walked out the door.
"Hello?" I was just a little confused as to who would be calling and why.
"Oh, so you're going to speak with me? What the fuck, Miss Downs? You've refused to answer my calls and you've failed to tell me where you were going. Running away with my brother is un-fucking-acceptable."
I tried to squeeze in a word, but Finnley had nothing but rage in his voice. The anger behind his tone pissed me off.
"You acted like a woman-child leaving. You can be so… ridiculous, and predictably unpredictable."
I tried to cut in again.
"Let. Me. Speak," he said between gritted teeth. "That's the second time you've left me Miss Downs. I won't beg you to stop again, so next time you bugger off, make sure it's the last."
I scoffed. "Don't threaten me."
"I'm not fucking threatening you, Miss Downs. I will neither chase nor beg you, ever again."
"I don't expect you to and oh, I guess we're back to formalities then?"
"You can bet your ass we are, Miss Downs. Especially after your little stunt."
"Stunt? Stunt?"
"Have you fucked my brother yet?"
I yelled as I followed behind Luke down the street. People stared at me as they scurried past. I lowered my voice but made sure to stress every syllable that came out of my mouth. "Are you fucking kidding me? You're an enormous asshole."
"Asshole, bastard, dickhead. Find better words, Miss Downs, those are old hat and overly used."
I grumbled at him, and he hung up the phone. He hung the fucking phone up on me? Ugggggggggh!
As soon as I caught up to Luke, I shoved the phone back in his hand and tried to walk past him. I needed to get my pent up aggression out somehow.
"I assume it went well."
I stopped walking and turned on him. "And you're an asshole for handing me the phone without a damn warning."
"Don't crucify the messenger," he said nonchalantly.
"How long has he known I was with you?"
Luke checked his watch, unamused, and walked past me.
"Did you expect me not to tell him? Finn was worried. I couldn't fly you to Paris and not tell your boyfriend."
"He is not my boyfriend."
"If he were seeing other people, would you be pissed? Do you fuck him when he wants? Does he fuck you when you want? Buy you nice things? Whisper sweet nothings in your ear?"
He waited for an answer. I didn't have one.
"That's what I thought," he said. Luke never raised his voice, got upset, or anything. He was so well controlled while I boiled completely over with anger.
"Funny how you've both inquired about who I'm fucking. He thinks I'm fucking you, and you think I'm fucking him. Who gives a shit? This is not fair."
"What's not fair? The fact that you heard the truth and don't want to accept it, or that I'm right? And by the way, I know you're fucking him. I've never questioned that."
"You are just as impossible as him. Do you know that?"
He laughed at me and kept walking. I wanted to scream and yell out my frustration and pent up aggression. Fucking fuck!
Part of me wanted to find a little Internet café and set up shop there, but regardless of how pissed I was, I genuinely wanted to watch Luke work.
Silent fucking treatment. They would both get it from here on out.
Nineteen
Luke unlocked the door to the studio and waited for me to catch up. When I entered, I sighed loudly, and he mocked me.
"Don't be upset with me. It was the right thing to do."
I glared at him then plopped onto the couch in the studio hallway. Luke whistled for me to follow.
"I've got the back workspace. Come with?"
We walked down a hall with painted cement floors and tall ceilings. A draft swept through and I shivered as he opened the door at the end. Canvas, paint, brushes, a drafting table, and easels lined the walls. I looked over at him and a smile crept across his face. He assessed his supplies, ran his fingers across the drafting table, and dropped his bag to the floor.