by Gina Azzi
“Until there’s a sexual harassment charge,” I mutter.
Mom furrows her brows and Dad looks truly shocked.
“What are you talking about?” Austin cuts in.
Behind him, Easton’s expression locks down. He curls his hands into fists and watches me with a controlled intensity that makes my skin tingle.
“Nothing,” I say.
“Did something happen with Jacob Kimber?” Mom asks slowly.
I close my eyes and breathe out an exhale. This went sideways quickly. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”
“Claire.” Dad’s tone is firm. I make eye contact. “If there’s something that happened—”
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll talk to him if you want.”
Mom looks truly concerned. “Claire, we just want what’s best for you. And I’m not saying that’s Jacob Kimber,” she adds quickly. “You have to meet us halfway, sweetheart. Help us understand the type of jobs you’re applying for. What do you want to do, Claire?”
I bite my lip, holding back the torrent of words that dance on the tip of my tongue. Do I tell them the truth? That I’ve been earning steady money from my design work with indie bands. That an up-and-coming band out of New York just contacted me about designing their logo. That I’m moving on from logos and doing merchandise design and website branding as well.
Before I can decide what to say, Easton announces, “Claire’s doing an incredible job designing band logos and album covers.”
“Band logos?” Mom asks, surprised.
Dad’s shoulders stiffen as his gaze swings to Easton and then back to me. He presses his lips together. “What kind of band logos? For who?”
“She was just contacted by a hot band out of New York,” Easton says, leaning his hip against the kitchen island. “Her demand has really picked up over the last few weeks. Hell, if she made a real go at this, she could probably run her own empire instead of bringing some entitled prick who has clearly taken liberties with her his morning cappuccino.”
“Jacob is more of an americano kind of guy,” I throw out, unnerved by how quickly Easton jumped to my defense. My attempt at levity is ignored.
“Tell us about the band logos, Claire,” Austin says, giving me a nod.
His encouragement eases some of the anxiety curling in my chest like rope. There’s enough slack to hang myself but at Austin’s nod and Easton’s support, I take a deep breath.
“I started messing around with it for fun. Over the summer, I was seeing this guy—”
“What guy?” Dad frowns.
“A musician. He’s, um, the lead singer for The Burnt Clovers.”
“Derek Reiner?” My brother’s mouth drops open.
Mom’s brow furrows. “Should I know him?” she whispers.
I shake my head. “Anyway, I was just messing around and mocked up some logos for his band and the guys all loved one of them. It’s actually the one they went with, and then they were invited on tour with The Failed Poets so—”
“They kept your logo?” Austin asks, sounding impressed.
I grin at him. “They did. I’ve also done some merch for them. Derek’s introduced me to some other bands and, it sort of just happened. I’m now making teaser graphics for their social media accounts and website branding too. I’ve only done a handful of album covers but they’re my favorite. I love brainstorming different concepts and working one-on-one with musicians to bring their visions to life.” I shrug, staring into Mom and Dad’s shocked expressions. “I really love it. And I’m good at it. It’s not a ton of money now but I haven’t really structured it to be. I think Easton’s right though. If I made a real go of it, I do think I could turn it into a small business to support myself.”
“Twenty-percent of businesses fail in their first year,” Dad points out.
“Joe,” Mom says.
“There’s the support I was counting on.” I move my arm in a gung-ho fist pump and Austin winces.
Dad glares at me. “I’m being realistic, Claire. You should too if this is something you’re seriously considering. You have a college degree and a wide network of contacts at your disposal. Instead of tapping into them, you want to sit home, drink fancy Starbucks beverages, and design a band logo for a guy who only paints one of his fingernails black.”
Mom gasps. Austin covers his snicker with a cough. I don’t even look at Easton to see the laughter burning in his eyes.
“You know Derek?” I ask.
Dad glowers.
“Right now, he’s feeling more of a navy tone. It’s not so heavy for his image.”
“Claire Josephine Merrick.” Mom full-names me. It’s a warning I should heed.
Dad scrapes his hand over his face. “You’ve always been difficult, Claire.”
“Passionate,” Mom amends.
I shoot her a grateful smile and turn back to my father. “Can’t you just be happy for me? I’m doing something I love and I’m earning more money than interning for free.”
He shakes his head, clearly at a loss. “Just promise me you’ll keep applying for real jobs. You know, ones that will allow you to get a mortgage and have health insurance.”
I bite back the snarky remark desperate to break free and nod. “Sure.”
Austin tops off my wine glass and winks at me.
The doorbell rings, bringing a wave of relief to the kitchen. Mom and Dad both beeline to the door to welcome Aunt Leanne, Uncle Jemmy, Indy, and Noah inside.
The second they’re gone, Austin, Easton, and I burst into laughter.
“Navy is lighter for his image?” Austin asks.
I smirk.
“You’ve got cojones, Claire,” my brother adds.
“One of us in this family has to,” I reply.
He flips me his middle finger. Easton walks around the island to stand beside me. He grips the back of my neck and squeezes. I look up at him and grin, momentarily blinded by his smile.
“Thank you,” I whisper to him.
“You’re so much bigger than you realize, Claire,” he murmurs back, dropping his hand. Immediately, I miss the warmth of his touch.
I pick up my wine glass as Indy and Noah filter into the kitchen. Aunt Leanne and Uncle Jemmy’s voices float behind them.
“Hey!” Indy kisses my cheek hello. “I talked to Aiden the other day and he’s going to get in touch with you. He’s checking out some new talent who may be looking for representation and said you’re more than welcome to come with.”
“Really?”
She nods. “Yeah. He’s pretty pumped about this rapper, Big Roxi. I listened to some of his tracks and you’ll definitely like his music. He also mentioned something about a bluegrass band.”
I grin. “That sounds awesome. Thanks, Indy.”
“Anytime. Honestly, you’re doing Aiden a favor too. He loves being in the entertainment industry and I think checking out new artists is his favorite part. But since he’s new to the city, he’d rather not go solo.”
“Cool. I’ll wait to hear from him then. Mom got non-alcoholic sparkling wine for you,” I tell her, slipping down from my barstool. I move to pull the bottle out of the bar refrigerator but pause when I get a look at Austin’s face.
My brother looks at me curiously. The wheels in his head are turning as his gaze darts to Easton and back to me. I stiffen immediately and duck into the bar fridge, grateful for the cold air that cools the heat of my cheeks.
After the showdown with Dad, the last thing I need is for Austin to discover just how much his best friend supports his little sister.
17
Easton
“You stuck up for me,” she whispers in my ear after dinner.
I turn in my chair, hooking an arm around her so I can peer into her face. “I’ll always stick up for you, babe. I’m proud of you.”
She grins. Her eyes dart around the empty den. We finished dinner about half an hour ago. Indy and Claire helped Mary and Leanne clear off the table and prepare the dessert while Aus
tin, Jemmy, Noah, Joe, and I retired in here to watch some hockey. There’s a minor league game on tonight between Windsor and Toronto. But then Joe needed Jemmy’s help with something, Indy called on Noah, and Austin snuck away to take a phone call.
In this moment, it’s just Claire and me. Immediately, the atmosphere eases and I relax into the armchair I’m sitting in. Claire always puts me at ease. Since leaving rehab, she’s the only person I can fully relax around and I crave her presence. I tug on her hand and she perches on my knee. I breathe in her floral, flirty perfume, and run my fingertips over the smooth skin that exists between the bottom of her sweater and the waistband of her jeans.
She drops her head to my ear. “Want to sneak away with me?”
I grin at the suggestion in her tone. “Where would we go?”
She slips off my lap and holds out a hand. “I’ll show you.”
I snort, shaking my head. Voices from the kitchen float into the den. “We’re at your parents’ house, Claire.”
“I know.”
I smile at the dare in her eyes. They shimmer brightly, blue like sapphires. “You better hurry up, Scotch. I thought you liked to play with fire.”
I stand from my chair and grip her hand. “You thought right, babe.”
She giggles and pulls me through the den and down the hallway. Pausing at the end of the hall, she looks both ways and I fight the urge to laugh. She’s so fucking cute. Everything with Claire is fun and playful, real and raw. She’s the best contradiction I’ve ever encountered. She glances at me over her shoulder and raises a finger to her lips. Early moonlight streams through the window, lighting up Claire’s mischievous expression. I smile at her.
I follow Claire around the corner of the hall and down three steps until we’re on a secluded landing, hidden between the entrance to the basement and a closet.
“Is this where you take all your secret lovers?” I whisper to her in the near-dark.
“Only the lucky ones.”
I snort, my hands wrapping around her lower back as I tug her against me. Her hands rest on my biceps and she pushes up on her toes, her breasts dragging up my chest. “Thank you for today with my dad. Really.” I hear the sincerity in her tone and it scrapes at my own insecurities.
Sweet Claire has never had anyone go to bat for her, not in the way she needs anyway. I drop my lips closer to hers. “Haven’t you realized yet that I’d do anything for you?”
I can just make out her expression in the dim lighting. Tenderness sweeps her gaze as she lifts her mouth to close the several inches that separate us. Then, she’s kissing me, I’m responding, and the rest of the world fades away.
The heat of Claire’s mouth drags me under, more potent than vodka. Her touch brands my skin, making me hers. I lift her up and her legs automatically encircle my hips. I’m already hard, desperate and ready to be inside of her. With Claire, I go from zero to one hundred in the blink of an eye. I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to a woman before—well, not since I was a fifteen-year-old inexperienced punk.
“Claire,” I murmur, kissing down the column of her neck. “We need to get back.” We need to stop this before I take her right here, pinned up against the wall of her parents’ closet.
“Shh, not yet,” she pants.
My hand slides up under her shirt, feeling her smooth skin. Her breast practically pushes into my palm, as hungry for my touch as I crave the feel of her. She tilts her pelvis upward to rock against me and I swear, pulling my mouth back to hers.
The sound of the door opening takes us both by surprise. It happens so quickly and unexpectedly that we have no time to untangle our limbs. Light streams into our hidden alcove and a very angry Austin shadows the doorframe.
“Fuck,” I swear, dropping my head to Claire’s shoulder. Slowly I drag my hand out from under her shirt.
She whimpers and I hear Austin’s breath hitch in horror.
Gently, I lower Claire to her feet, keeping her frame half behind mine as I turn to meet the fury of my best friend. It’s rolling off of him in waves, crashing over Claire and me like a bolt of lightning from Zeus.
Austin points at his sister. “Go.” His tone is menacing and dangerously quiet. I recognize the rage in his expression, the betrayal in his eyes, the slipping control he has on his restraint.
Claire inches forward but I grip her wrist and keep her behind me. No way am I letting Claire just walk away like this doesn’t concern her. We’re together now, even if we didn’t announce it to the entire Merrick clan, and I won’t have her walking away from me like her place isn’t by my side.
Austin’s eyes narrow. “What the fuck are you doing?” he growls at me.
“Aus—” Claire starts forward again but I grip her hand tighter. She snaps her mouth shut.
“We need to talk, Austin,” I keep my tone level.
“No shit.”
“Not here.” I shake my head. “Let’s go back inside and say good night to your parents. Then, we’ll head to my house.”
Austin chuckles humorlessly. “Why? You don’t want them to know that you’re fucking my sister?”
“Watch your mouth,” I bite back.
Austin has the sense to look contrite. “I can’t believe this.”
“It’s not what you think,” I tell him. Claire’s hand grows rigid in mine. I swipe my thumb across her knuckles to reassure her.
Austin glowers. “What the fuck does that mean, East?”
“It means that I care about Claire. This thing between us is real, Austin. She’s not just some girl. She’s fucking everything. So we’ll go to my place and I’ll answer your questions out of respect for our friendship, your relationship with Claire, and your family. But don’t get it twisted, we don’t owe you anything and you won’t be ordering Claire around like she’s a little kid. She’s all grown up now and capable of making her own decisions. About where she lives, what type of work she does, and who she dates.”
Claire sucks in a sharp inhale. My best friend stares at me for three long seconds like he doesn’t recognize me. But I don’t care. I’m putting Claire first. I’ll always put her first.
“Let’s go.” Austin jerks his head to the side.
Claire and I shuffle out of the space, and I got to give my girl credit, she keeps her shoulders back and her head up. We exchange a series of awkward goodbyes with the other Merricks. Mary’s brow furrows in concern and Indy shoots Claire a worried glance, but we’re out the front door before anyone can start asking questions.
“Get in my car, Claire,” Austin demands. I cut him a look and he swears. “Please.”
Claire nods and looks at me. I offer her a reassuring nod. The last thing I want is to ruin Claire’s relationship with anyone in her family. I slide behind the wheel of my car and make sure Austin is ready before I pull out of the Merricks’ driveway and point the car toward my home.
The ride passes slowly and quickly. Time is strange like that. On the one hand, my concern for Claire is heightened, drawing my ire at every red light. I know Austin would never yell at her, but I’m sure he’s questioning her pretty hard. Not that Claire can’t take it but still, I’d like to be there for her. On the other hand, the extra time seems necessary to ensure that Austin and I both cool down some. The last thing I want is to end up exchanging blows with my best friend.
I park in front of my brownstone and Austin parks a couple car lengths ahead. When he and Claire exit the car, I hold open the front gate and the three of us walk up the steps. Claire punches in the code to unlock the door and I don’t miss the furrow of Austin’s brow. It’s like he’s realizing for the first time just how interconnected his sister’s and my lives are. Good.
Once we settle inside, Claire wordlessly approaches the Nespresso machine and pops in a capsule. “Let’s sit down and talk rationally,” she says, sounding much older than her twenty-four years.
Austin stays standing behind a barstool and glares at me. “How did this start?” he demands, his finger
wagging between Claire and me. “You guys hated each other.”
“There’s a thin line between love and hate,” Claire points out. She sets down Austin’s coffee mug.
Austin snorts, his glare hardening. “Love?” He snaps his neck in my direction. “Is that what you fucking told her? That you love her? Did you seduce my baby sister, Easton?”
“Austin, stop.” Claire angles herself in between us even though we’re standing on opposite sides of the kitchen island. “Easton didn’t seduce me; this isn’t Victorian England. I don’t need you to protect my honor. I’ve wanted East for years and when I moved in here, I made sure he knew it.”
Austin and I both swing our heads toward Claire. She slips onto a barstool, unfazed, and takes a long sip of her coffee. “Do you want a tea, East? I think any caffeine will make it tough to sleep tonight.”
I shake my head, in awe of her blasé attitude.
“Okay.” She turns back toward her brother. “This is how this is going to go. You”—she points at Austin—“are you going to realize that I am an adult. I am dating Easton Scotch because I want to and for some unfathomable reason, because he sees something in me that everyone else seems to overlook.”
Austin flinches but keeps his mouth shut.
“And you”—Claire points at me—“are going to continue to show up for yourself, for your team, and for me. We’ll tell the rest of my family that we’re dating when we’re ready but preferably sooner rather than later.”
I nod.
“The two of you are going to sit at this island and talk like men. You are best friends, you are on the same hockey team, and you both love and want to protect this girl right here.” She points to herself. “I won’t have this tension between you guys. So I’m asking you, for me, to please sort out your shit so we can move forward.” She stands from the kitchen island, taking her coffee mug with her. “I’ll be downstairs watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey. Holler if you need me, but if you don’t get it together, I can’t promise that I won’t flip tables like Teresa.”