Something True

by Jessica Roe

  “Well hey there, beautiful.” He takes her hand and brings it to his lips. “I'm Aleix, Walt's brother. And who might you be?”

  She blinks in surprise. “I'm Ibbie. Now wait just a cotton picking minute, did you say you were his brother?”

  Though Aleix and I look alike with our dark hair and our dark eyes and our similar features, we're just about as opposite as two guys can get. Aleix is a management consultant, and he fits the part well – he's smooth, polished and educated with his smart suits and his shiny shoes and his expensive watches and his classic good looks. And I'm a tattoo artist who barely scraped his way through high school. When people look at me they see a grumpy, tattooed, pierced punk. When they look at my brother, they see a man who's got his life together.

  “You got it.” He flashes a smile at her. It's his deal closing smile, and of course it works on her. I can practically see the stars forming in her eyes as she gazes up at him. “So may I get you a drink, beautiful Ibbie?”

  She flutters her eyelashes. “You may.”

  When she turns to the bar, Aleix quickly shoots me a look. “Not stepping on your toes, right?” he asks quietly. “She's not one of yours?”

  I want to tell him to back off, to tell him to keep his hands off her because she's. . .because she's. . .mine. But she isn't, so instead I grit my teeth and force out a smile. “Go for it, man.”

  +++

  FOR THE NEXT hour I'm forced to watch the two of them flirt. Ibbie eats up the shit he's dishing out like she's never met anyone so goddamned charming before, and it drives me fucking crazy. It drives me fucking crazy because I like the stupid girl so much I don't even know what to do with it.

  Yeah, I like her. I'm an ass to her, but I like her.

  Hell, I more than like her. I've been head over heels for her almost from the very first time Jemma brought her around. She annoyed the hell out of me at first – was just this psychotic, crazy as shit little pixie who wore stupidly bright clothes and never stopped talking long enough for anyone else to get a word in. When somebody annoys me like she did, I'm a dick. I just don't see the point of playing nice. The more I saw her, the more irritated I got. She drove me insane to the point of distraction. I couldn't stop thinking about her.

  It didn't take me long to figure out that I was in love with the girl I hated. Except I didn't hate her, obviously. Not at all. But by the time I realized how deep my feelings ran it was too late, she already thought I was an ass.

  She was just so different to the other girls I knew, and so much better than me. I knew that, and it pissed me off. Guys like me didn't get princesses like her. And I. . .I didn't know how to act around her, how to be around her. The feelings I had, I didn't know what to do with them. So instead of being a decent guy and apologizing, I just kept lashing out. Didn't help that she gave it right back, that she drove me just as crazy as I drove her.

  So I kept bugging her and bugging her like that annoying kid on the playground pulling the pretty girl's pigtails, because all I ever really wanted was her attention. I sure as hell got it.

  I piss her off because I love the fire she gets in her eyes when she looks my way. As for guys, whenever I see her with one I do everything in my power to scare him away. That's my genius plan and I'm sticking with it.

  I'm seriously pathetic.

  And now I'm sat here watching my perfect older brother, the one guy I can't scare away, sweep the girl I'm crazy about off her feet, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

  Reid joins me a while later at the bar as I watch Ibbie and Aleix dance. I've never talked about my feelings for her with him, or with anyone, but he's always known me better than most.

  “You okay?”

  I take a sip of my drink, but I've been staring over at Ibbie and Aleix – at the way her body moves and the way his hands are all over her fucking skin – for so long that the ice has melted and it tastes like shit. “I'm fine.”

  “You should go ask her to dance.”

  “Don't know what you're talkin' about.”

  Reid was never one for accepting bullshit. “If you don't do something you're gonna lose your chance with her.”

  “Dude.” I shake my head, abandoning the drink on the bar. “Don't go there.” Because there's just no point. Ibbie already hates me, and even if she didn't I could never offer her even close to anything Aleix could.

  “Just let her see the real you for once.” He grins. “You know, the one who ain't a complete dick.”

  “I said I don't know what you're talkin' about,” I reply stubbornly. Standing, I slap his shoulder a little too hard. “Anyway, I gotta split. Got a client in early tomorrow.”

  “At my place?”

  “Digby's.” Ever since Reid opened up his own tattoo shop, I've been splitting my time between his business and the tattoo shop we used to work in together when we first started out. I earn more with Digby, but Reid's been my best friend since middle school and I'd do anything for him. “This guy can only come in Sunday mornings, so I need to shoot and get some sleep.”

  “Just give yourself some credit,” Reid continues, clinging to this Ibbie thing like a dog with a bone. “And give her some too.”

  Backing away, I hold my hands up in front of me. “Look, we both know she's too good for a shit like me. Let's not go there, okay?”

  “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. Li
ghten 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!!

  +++

  “HEY!” I GREET in surprise when Aleix meets me at the dressing room doors the next day. I don't think he's supposed to be back here, but he could probably charm his way into a nun's panties as long as he flashed that gorgeous smile. Do nuns even wear panties? Would Aleix think I was weird if I Googled that right now?

  Saturdays are usually a two show day, but our evening show was canceled tonight which means I have a rare free evening.

  He leans down and kisses me sweetly on the lips, then hands me a bouquet of red roses. They're beautiful, though roses have never been my favorite – I've always thought they were a little boring and very predictable. But it's a sweet gesture, and there's a hot guy giving me flowers so I'm sure as hell not complaining. “Hey yourself.”

  “I didn't know you were coming to the show today.”

  “Oh, I didn't. Missed it, unfortunately. But I finished my client lunch earlier than I expected so I thought I'd surprise you.”

  “Consider me happily surprised.” Reaching up on my tippy toes, I kiss him again. His lips are warm and soft and delicious.

  Hannah and Ellie, who play Elizabeth and Jane respectively, walk by us on their way out and giggle. They wink at me when I catch their eye. “Bye, Ibbs. Have fu-un!”

  I grin back, because I know exactly what kind of fun they're talking about.

  “So are you still free tonight?” Aleix wants to know.

  “Actually no. Jemma's hosting a dinner party at Reid's place and she's gone completely nutso about it-”

  “Their first dinner party together?” he guesses.

  “Yuh huh. Appearance is mandatory. She made Reid buy a big dining table and everything. You could come though?”

  I'm nervous for a moment, because this is the kind of date you invite your boyfriend to and not just the guy you've been casually hanging out with, until he smiles down at me. “That sounds great.”

  +++

  You look like crap tonight.

  I glare at Walt across the dining table, but he only smirks at me in response. That guy is just shifty, that's what he is. I bet he pours the milk before he pours his cereal. People who pour the milk first can never be trusted.

  Jemma's gone ever so slightly cray cray about this dinner party tonight since it's her first grownup shindig, so unfortunately we're on our best behavior which means I can't reach across the table and throttle Walt like I so desperately crave. Not unless I want to be maimed by my best friend's sister. And Jemma would do it, she is that psycho. Walt, however, is making things very difficult, as usual.

  Well you look like the devil. So no change there then.

  It's sad how much you want me.

  Aleix eyes me and the phone suspiciously, so I shove it in my pocket and do my best to ignore his aggravating brother, because side-texting at the dinner table ain't cool.

  “Thanks for letting me come last minute, Jemma,” Aleix says politely.

  She waves her hand airily. “Oh, it's no problem.” It actually was a problem. When I showed up with Aleix in tow she dragged me into the kitchen and whisper yelled at me for ten minutes straight because I'd messed up the seating arrangement. Seriously, ten minutes straight. About the seating arrangement. I mean, for frigging frick's sake! After a while I'd started to become genuinely concerned that she was going to damage her throat.

  “This is delicious – you're a great cook.”

  That makes her swoon like a southern belle – Aleix is really good at the whole charming thing. I get a feeling I'm already forgiven. “I love to cook. My mom taught me.”

  “She taught you well.”

  “She offered to teach Blair too, but Blair thinks emptying soup out of a can counts a gourmet meal so clearly there's no hope for her.”

  “Hey!” Blair protests, but she's grinning. “I can cook.”

  “Yesterday you had to call me to ask how to boil an egg.”

  “Eggs are hard!”

&
nbsp; “Naw, baby. I love your cooking.” Silver kisses her cheek sweetly.

  She pats his curly hair. “And I love it when you lie to make me feel better.”

  “I'm the best fiance ever,” he agrees. It's only been a couple of weeks since they got engaged, but so far he's been slipping the word fiance in whenever he can. It's seriously adorable.

  Blair turns back to Jemma, payback in her eyes. “So does this fancy dinner party mean you guys are thinking of moving in together?”

  Jemma's cheeks go a bright red. “Blair! No-”

  “Sort of,” Reid interrupts with a little grin. One of his large hands comes up to rest on the back of Jemma's neck.

  She glances at him in surprise. “Sort of? What's that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I've been moving you in slowly, getting you used to the idea before I make it official.”

  A shocked laugh escapes her. “What are you even talking about?”

  “You haven't noticed yet, but every time you stay over I've been getting you to leave more and more of your things behind. I figured by the time you realized, it would already be too late to stop it.” That's the thing about Reid – he can be sneaky, but he isn't afraid to own up to it. “At least half of your stuff has got to be here by now.”

  “That's true,” Dahlia agrees. “Do you know how annoying it is trying to steal clothes from you when your wardrobe is mostly empty? I knew I was gonna end up losing my roomie before the year was out.”

  Jemma's head shakes back and forth slowly. I think she's in shock. “But I'm not-”

  “Please, when was the last time you slept at our apartment?”

  Blinking, Jemma turns back to Reid. There's a cautiously hopeful look on her face. “So. . .you want me to move in with you?”