Silence fell across the room. The shocked look on Zoe’s face made me chuckle, but I bit my lip to stop it coming out. It was still way too early to deal with another one of her ‘footy is life’ lectures.
“Football isn’t stupid, Holly.”
“Ah, yeah it is. It’s cold and nothing happens.”
“Did you not see how short those shorts are? And the arm porn…oh my god! The arm porn.” I think Zoe was practically drooling at the memory.
“Why don’t we do something, Holly? Just us. Anything you like,” I offered.
“Anything?”
The sneaky, sly look on Holly’s beautiful face had me regretting my offer. I should have chosen my words more carefully. Knowing Holly, I’d spend the day doing some weird ass shit no normal dude would ever be caught doing. For Holly though, for her I knew I’d do anything. That girl had me wrapped around her little finger. She’d had me since the day she was born. My entire life, the family rule was ‘Holly’s a Princess. Our Princess. And it is our job, as her brothers, to protect her no matter what the cost.’ Nothing had changed that. And I couldn’t imagine anything ever would.
“Ackland Street?”
“What’s Ackland Street?”
“For Christ’s sakes, Ryan. Do you even live in Melbourne?” Zoe teased.
“Even I’ve been dragged there a time or two,” Derek admitted, narrowing his gaze at Mia.
“Maybe you will again.”
“If that’s what you want.”
I couldn’t wrap my head around Derek. Here he was surrounded by women telling him what to do and where to go and he wasn’t panicking and sweating through his too tight t-shirt. One night, a couple of weeks after I moved in, Zoe and I had finished one too many experimental cocktails and all the baked goods in the house when she spilt her guts and told me her whole horrid story. Losing the love of her life, Spencer. Derek stepping in and stepping up, saving her in her darkest moment. She explained, at least she attempted to explain, their seemingly odd relationship and even defended it. The thing was, the thing she couldn’t see was she didn’t need to. Her relationship with Derek was theirs. I didn’t need to know the nitty gritty. As long as she wasn’t doing anything stupid, like hitting on a married man, I was good with it. It was her life, and as long as she was safe and happy, then I was happy for her.
“We’ll see,” Mia confirmed. “I’m going to go and get dressed. Zoe, can we drop by the gym on our way?”
“Absolutely. Promise you won’t hate me for the changes I made?”
“Promise.”
As Zoe and Mia vanished down the hallway, I turned my attention back to Holly. “So where exactly am I taking you? And why?”
“Ackland Street in St. Kilda.”
“Zoe’s seriously never dragged you down there on a Sunday morning?” Derek questioned, gobsmacked.
“I’m usually not home on a Sunday morning.”
“Where are you?” Holly asked innocently.
Shit! I’d walked right into that one. “I am home. I just tend to go out on Saturday nights, so Sunday morning I’m not exactly the best company.”
“Oh.” Holly seemed to buy my bullshit, but one glance in Derek’s direction and I knew he didn’t. Not for a second. Asshole. It was the damn detective in him which had him sniffing out a lie at a hundred feet. “Anyway, Ackland Street is full of cakes. And I NEED to get my sugar fix. Connor can’t cook for shit!”
“What about Payton? Your sister-in-law owns a bakery. Surely she feeds your sugar addiction.” Just thinking about Payton made my stomach rumble. Despite the massive helping of bacon and eggs I’d just shovelled down, even the memory of Payton’s vanilla slice made my mouth water.
“She doesn’t cook at home anymore. She’s always too tired these days.”
Holding my hand up, I stopped her right there. “I don’t even want to know. Looks like we’re heading to St. Kilda then.”
Holly wasn’t kidding when she said she had a craving. Two hours, four bakeries, and a coffee shop later, I was more than ready to slip into a coma. And I refrained from sampling in the last two spots. I would’ve stopped her earlier. I should’ve. But the huge, ridiculous smile on her face meant she was doing whatever the hell she wanted. It’d been too long since I’d seen that smile, and I for one was going to do whatever it took to keep it there.
“Keep walking,” I encouraged as she began to complain.
It was a beautiful day down by the water, and I didn’t want to waste it cooped up inside watching movies. My hangover had lifted and the poulounding in my head had eased, thankfully, so I was going to enjoy what was left of my Sunday. It took a bit of negotiation, involving the largest cannoli I’d ever seen, but I’d managed to convince Holly to walk along the Esplanade with me. She wasn’t keen. In fact, she’d offered to find a spot under a tree and read a book while I walked, but I was being a baby. I didn’t want to be on my own right now. Even if we weren’t chatting as we walked, I needed someone there. I had way too many thoughts bouncing around my head to sit still at the moment.
Overhead, seagulls were squawking and dive bombing unsuspecting beachgoers as they tried to enjoy their fish and chips on the sand. When it wasn’t happening to you, it was funny as hell. There was barely a ripple on the water, and in the shallows, toddlers bounced around like they were monkeys. Actually, watching the way some of them clung to their fathers’ legs, maybe they were. Women lazed on the beach, their bikini straps rolled down, desperately trying to avoid the dreaded tan lines.
Then there was us. Walking at snail’s pace. Every five steps Holly sighed or groaned. Personally, I think she may have been regretting that last caramel meringue tart. My arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her to me and her head rested on my shoulder. To the world, we probably looked like a couple. To us, this was just who we were. Having Holly here, I realised how much I missed her. Missed them all. The hollow, lonely feeling in the pit of my stomach, the one I’d been trying to numb with alcohol and hot sex for the past couple of weeks, I now understood. As much as they drove me crazy, as much as sometimes I wanted to beat them over the head with my own shoes, I missed my family. Thank fuck I had Zoe. Without her, I think I’d have packed up and headed home within the first couple of weeks. Maybe it was time for a trip back.
“Are we there yet?” Holly whined like a five year old, her tantrum complete with a pouty bottom lip.
Not wanting to torture her anymore, I spun her around and started back the way we came. I’d barely taken five steps when I came face to face with someone I wasn’t ready to see. Not yet. Not today. And certainly not with Holly standing right beside me.
“Ryan?”
“H-hi Alex.”
“All right! All right! Keep your bloody pants on, I’m coming!” I called to whoever it was banging on my door so early on a Sunday morning.
All I knew is if I opened that door, whoever was standing on the other side better have coffee. Preferably in a bucket. And aspirin. Anything to stop the room from spinning and my head exploding. Ooh, and maybe a greasy bacon and egg roll. Yeah, definitely a bacon and egg roll with thick, smoky barbeque sauce. That’d hit the spot.
Swiping the towel from the floor, I wrapped it around my waist and stomped out of my bedroom, leaning against the wall as I went. I needed the help to stay vertical. Right now, the desire to drop to my knees and crawl along the floor was sounding good. Really good.
“Whoa! Shit, Alex! No one wants to see that. Put some clothes on, for fuck’s sake.” Yeah, whatever. Good morning to you too, asshole.
“Shane.”
“Morning, sweetheart.”
He had this wide, smart ass grin on his face and was looking smug. Way too chirpy for this hour of the morning. Checking his hands, I couldn’t hide the disappointment, noticing they were empty. What the fuck? Everyone knew, you show up to my place any time before midday, you best come bearing gifts. Preferably of the caffeinated variety.
“Nope. I’m not feeding your caffeine
addiction this morning. You are. Now, huury up and get dressed, and I’ll take you for breakfast.” He was so damn bossy.
“What makes you think I want breakfast?” The fact that I was now craving it bad enough that I’d consider leaving the house in last night’s clothes wasn’t something I needed to share, though. The smug shit’s head was big enough. He didn’t need me inflating his ego.
“The fact that you looked like you were going to cry when you realised I was empty handed.”
“You’re an asshole. You know that, right?” I tossed out as I wobbled my ass down the hall and back into my bedroom.
“Yep. But I’m still your favourite brother.”
“That’s debateable.”
I heard the TV turn on and the latest sports updates coming through. Shane was a lot of things, and predictable was one of them. He had a cushy office job where I don’t think he actually worked for more than five minutes a day. He definitely didn’t break a nail or raise a sweat. Listening to him arguing with the TV reporters, I shuffled into the bathroom and washed my face. I’d seen better days. It wasn’t surprising I looked like shit, really. I felt worse. I was getting too old to be going out all night every weekend. Backing up was becoming harder each time.
After brushing my teeth, I tugged on some jeans and a t-shirt I found lying on the floor. After a quick sniff test—which it passed, barely—I stuffed my feet in my runners and headed out. Shane didn’t even look up as I stumbled through the living room, bashing my shin on the corner of the coffee table, sending the pile of magazines to the floor.
“You ready?”
“Two minutes.” Damn, he was impatient today. Washing down a couple of pain killers with a whole bottle of water, I prayed they worked their magic quickly today. I had shit to do and trying to get anything done through the haze of a hangover didn’t sound like a great way to spend my only day off. Although, doing the washing and grocery shopping didn’t really sound much better.
“All right. You ready?”
“Waiting on you, Princess.”
“Isn’t there someone else in your life, anyone else, that you can go annoy instead of me?” I asked, stuffing my wallet and keys into my pocket. I eyed my phone on the counter, wondering if I should bother taking it. I knew if I did, I’d just spend the whole time looking at it, wondering if or when Ryan would call. Like I had every other Sunday. He hadn’t yet, so I had no reason to believe that today would be any different. I hoped he would, he had my number, he just hadn’t bothered to use it. Not yet, at least. Deciding against it, I plugged it in and headed out the door.
“Where’s your car?” I asked as we stepped out into the sunshine.
I heard a beep and looked around. Shane had a big goofy looking grin on his face. “There.”
“Where?”
Shane’s standard navy-blue commodore was nowhere in sight. I may have been the one fighting the hangover from hell, but he was blind.
“Right there.” Shane stepped off the kerb and rounded the back of a cherry red Mustang. It was lowered and looked hot, but it was so flashy there’s no way people couldn’t see these things coming. It was an attention-seeking missile.
“Seriously?” Part of me hoped he was joking.
“Come on. Get in. Let’s see what she can do.”
Holy fuck!
He wasn’t joking. Slipping into the passenger seat, I fastened my belt and sunk down into the luxurious leather. It might have been flashy, but damn, it was comfy. I had to give it that. Ten minutes later we were flying down the road, the stereo almost deafening us both. Even though I wouldn’t say it out loud—I couldn’t say it out loud—this car was pretty fucking cool.
When Shane parked, he took up two spots, which in this part of the world was a mortal sin. Parking around here, especially on a Sunday morning, was comparable to winning lotto. We went into a hole in the wall café, one I didn’t even know was here. At first when Shane started leading me down an alley littered with broken bottles and abandoned hamburger wrappers, my palms started to sweat. I was in no mood to get mugged today. Then, quite unexpectedly the alley opened up into a garden filled with metal tables and bustling with people. My god, the people. They were everywhere. Right ahead there was a bar, and even that was standing room only.
“Shit.”
“What?”
I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. I was surprised as hell that this place existed, let alone it seemed half of Melbourne knew it did and had packed in for their Sunday morning Smashed Avo.
“It’s busy.”
“How very observant of you, Alex. You’re a regular Sherlock Holmes.”
“Oh, shut up. We’re never going to get a table.”
“Wanna bet?”
The cocky look in Shane’s eyes told me not to take that bet. It was a sucker bet, and I’d lost my fair share of those already. Instead I said nothing and followed him through the heavy gates into chaos.
While Shane attempted to chat up some chick with a wild red mane, I looked around. Damn it, I was underdressed. Women sat with their legs folded daintily as they sipped their soy lattes and pushed their egg white omelettes around the plate. Dressed to the nines, I spotted more feathered hats than you would at the race track on Derby Day. And the men were no better. There were sports coats of every colour, hell I even spotted a lime green one, but instead of looking out of place and completely ridiculous, for some reason it just worked. Glancing down at my dirty runners, embarrassment flooded me. I hadn’t even showered, let alone ironed my clothes. Shane could have bloody warned me.
“You coming?” he asked, interrupting my pity party.
“Yeah,” I answered dryly before following him, hoping we got lucky and were tucked away in the back corner where other people couldn’t see us. If there was one thing I hated it was feeling like an outcast and looking like a fool. Right now, that’s exactly what I was facing.
Thanks to my luck, or maybe the lack of it, we scored a table. I’m still not sure how we got one, right smack bang in the middle of the circus. My already fragile head began pounding even harder at the high-pitched laughter and clattering of cutlery. My ass was barely in the chair and I was ready to run out the door and grab a drive-thru coffee, no matter how disgusting it tasted.
Grabbing the menu, I hid behind it, adjusting my sunglasses. Thank god for those dark glasses. Not only were they shielding my sensitive eyes from the sun’s glare as it reflected off the white metal table, but they were also concealing all the eye rolling I was doing as I caught snippets of the conversations going on around me.
“Can I get you some coffees to start?” a nasally voice asked, catching me off guard. Lowering my menu, I saw the pimple-faced teen with the black apron slung low around his non-existent hips. This guy was a weed. I found myself feeling sorry for him. I hoped he beefed up soon. Life wasn’t a fun place when you were the nerdy looking kid.
“I’ll take a flat white, one sugar. Thanks,” I ordered quickly. My coffee order hadn’t changed in years, and I didn’t expect it to any time soon. All these fancy shmancy frappes and half-strength bullshit, what was the point? If you wanted a coffee, have a coffee. No need to stuff around.
“I’ll take a mocha. Thanks, Sean.”
“Be right back.”
Sean, I guess that was his name, wound his way through the maze of tables to what I assume was the kitchen. Once he was safely out of hearing distance, I turned to my brother and stared at him. I needed to know what the fuck was going on and I needed to know now. Patience was definitely not a virtue this morning. Not for me, anyway.
“Sean? Mocha? This place? Start talking.”
Shane chuckled and rocked back in his chair. All I could see in front of me was Dad. Shane had the same dull green eyes, and even his once inky black hair was starting to get silver highlights at his temples. But it was the deep, booming belly laugh that reminded me of him the most. A sound I hadn’t heard in years. One I missed. Desperately.
“What?”
“Don’t what me!”
“Sean’s a good kid. Works hard. He’s here almost every weekend.”
“And so are you, it would seem.”
“Not every weekend…”
“Liar!” Just when I went to call bullshit on him, I didn’t have to. The redhead he’d been talking to earlier did it for me. “Shane, you’re so full of shit. You’re here every Saturday and Sunday, and at least twice during the week. You know the menu like the back of your hand. Now, what’s it going to be, and don’t waste my time telling me you haven’t decided.”
I loved this chick. She was ballsy and wasn’t letting Shane get away with anything. I wanted to wrap her up, take her home, and whenever Shane started being a twat, whip her out and let her go.
“Kathryn…” Shane’s voice dropped two octaves as he tried to be menacing. He was trying on the wrong girl. Even I could see that.
“Oh pfff. What’ll it be?”
Even though I was enjoying their crazy banter and watching my big brother get his ass handed to him by a five foot two ball of energy, I was starving. And my stomach was more important than Shane. “Can I please have the big breakfast?”
“Sure.”
“Can I have that without the baked beans?”
“Want an extra hash brown instead?”
“Sounds great. Thanks.” I smiled at her. This chick was incredible.
“And you princess?” She was back to taunting Shane. Sliding my menu onto the table, I leant back, folded my arms across my chest and watched the show.
“I’ll take the eggs benedict.”
“Smoked salmon or ham?”
“Salmon. Thanks, Kathryn.”
“Oh, don’t even try sweet talking me. You may have my boss wrapped around your cock, but I’m not her.”
I couldn’t hold back the laughter that exploded from my throat. I could’ve bet everything I owned and I still wouldn’t have seen that coming. Not in a million years.
“Kathryn…” Behind her stood the most perfect-looking woman I’d ever seen. Her manicured nails were drumming a beat on her forearm, her perfect red pouty lips were quirked up in a tight smile, and her eyes were as blue as an Australian summer sky. She wore a simple black dress, which finished just above her knees and hugged her curves perfectly.
Breaking Free (Meet the McIntyres Book 4) Page 2