Fuck the rest of the Barnes family. She’s the only one I need believing in me.
“All right,” she says, hopping down from her stool, “I have to get going. I have a client coming in for a color in ten. I’ll never hear the end of it if I’m late.” She rolls her eyes, but I know she loves her clients more than anything, even the pain-in-the-ass ones. “Good luck on the interview. You better let me know how it goes.”
She gives me a pointed look as she slips her sunglasses back over her eyes, and I understand exactly what she’s getting at: if I need her, I better call.
“I will.”
“You got this, kid. I have a feeling it’s gonna change your life.”
She takes off with a reassuring smile, and I return my attention to the pie, shaking my head at her.
This job is going to change my life?
Yeah, like that’s going to happen.
3
Holland
“I’m home!” Morris darts off the couch, rushing down the hall and away from my screech.
Because let’s be honest, I’m totally screeching right now.
But I’m excited. I nailed my interview last week, and I just had the best first day at work ever.
Sure, it’s not the greatest pay and the benefits don’t touch what I had with my father, but it’s better than what I have now, which is diddly squat.
“Good day?” I nod happily, and Dean shoves off of the couch, leaping over the coffee table and wrapping his arms around me. “I knew you’d kick ass!”
He’s as excited as I am, and I squeeze him extra hard, trying to hold in the tears that have sprung up in my eyes. It feels damn good to have someone in my corner cheering me on.
Dean and I have always been close, but after our parents won the lottery and did complete one-eighties in the personality department—because what they say is true: money changes people—our bond grew stronger. We were all each other had, and we refused to let anything come between us. Sure, we have fights like all siblings do, but he’s truly my best friend.
“How were your coworkers? Was the traffic as bad as you were expecting? Do you think it’s something you’re going to love?”
I laugh, pulling away. “One question at a time.”
“Come on. Let’s do a celebration shot, then we’ll go to dinner to commemorate your first day when River gets home.”
“Isn’t it kind of early to be downing shots?”
“Funny coming from you, Ms. Drunk at Brunch.” My cheeks heat with guilt. “Besides, I’m on summer break—the hangover tomorrow won’t bother me.”
I follow him into the kitchen, slipping onto a stool as he reaches up into the cabinet over the fridge. He pulls down a bottle of golden tequila and two shot glasses. He fills them up, then slides one my way.
Dean lifts his glass. “Here’s to finally telling that crusty old man you call a father to fuck off!”
“Dean!” I hiss.
He rolls his eyes. “Fine. How about ‘Congrats on finally telling Dad to kiss your ass and proving him wrong’?”
I smirk. “Kind of a mouthful, don’t ya think?”
We clink glasses anyway, then toss back the shots.
I groan as the booze burns my throat and give my head a shake. “Oh god. I hate that shit so much.”
“It’s disgusting, but it gets the job done.” Dean pours us another shot each, and we toss those back too.
I’m not much of a drinker, so I can already feel the booze hitting my veins.
“Have you talked to him?” he asks, and I know he’s referring to our father.
I shake my head.
I called him the day I got the job. He told me again that I was making a huge mistake and I wouldn’t last thirty days at my new company.
I haven’t tried to contact him since, and he hasn’t reached out either. I have a feeling it’s going to be a while before we’re ready to talk again.
Dean frowns but quickly changes the subject.
“All right. Let’s hear all about your first day.” He leans against the counter, eager to get the rundown.
“Well, the morning started with a mini panic attack in my car.” He gives me a sympathetic smile. “But once I finally pulled my shit together and went inside, everyone was really nice. I even kind of made friends with another newer hire, Emma. We’ve been paired up to work on a project together. It looks like the company is still growing and there’s room for advancement.”
“And we both know how competitive you are,” Dean says.
I like to say driven more than competitive, but he’s right. I’ve always had this urge to be the best. To never fail.
Which is probably why I stood by my father’s side for so long. I didn’t want to fail him.
“Guess you weren’t playing about going out there and conquering the world.”
“Not even a little bit.”
“That shit deserves another shot.” He pours us one more and we sling them back like the pros we aren’t. “So, it’s different from what you were doing for Dad. How are you feeling about that aspect of it? Excited to be back in the marketing game?”
“It’s scary. I mean, how can it not be? I’ve been an assistant for the last four years. You know how excited I was when I first started at Evans Inc. in the marketing department. I loved it. Then I stepped in for Nancy. I forgot how good it feels to create something, to help someone else achieve their dream. I’m ready for that challenge again, you know?”
He nods. “I know that feeling very well.”
“You didn’t even give it a chance,” I say, referring to how quickly he ditched getting his degree.
He shrugs. “When you know it’s not for you, you know. I’m much happier teaching a bunch of fifth graders than I ever was sitting through some boring-as-hell business management class.”
“Even when they make fun of you for your mustache?”
Dean’s always been a scruffy-face kind of guy, but earlier this year he decided to give a mustache a try.
That lasted all of three days.
His students picked on him hard, and I can’t say I blame them. He looked ridiculous.
“Yes, even when they are being complete shitheads.”
“I don’t think you’re allowed to call your students shitheads.”
He lifts his shoulders unapologetically. “Call ’em like I see ’em.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Some days I still can’t believe you’re shaping the minds of our youth.”
“Hey! I helped raise your ass. You turned out just fine.”
“Fifteen months, Dean. Fifteen months.”
“It’s long enough for me to know better than you.”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.” I push off of the stool. “I’m gonna go change, maybe start looking for an apartment.”
“What? Already? You know you’re more than welcome to stay here as long as you want. River doesn’t mind one bit if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh, I know,” I say. “She loves me and I love her too. But I really don’t think I can stand listening to how much she loves you for much longer.”
A slow smirk takes over his lips. “Can’t help that your brother is a stud.”
I gag, taking off down the hall. “Ew. Please don’t ever say that again.”
“I’m a stud, Holland! A grade-A stud! Total sex machine!”
“I hate you!”
“Liar!”
“I think it’s incredible how you two can eat pie for breakfast and dinner like it’s nothing.”
I should have known that when Dean said we were going out to dinner to celebrate my first day, we’d end up at The Gravy Train. It’s his and River’s favorite place in the whole city, and that’s one hundred percent because they have the best pie I’ve ever had.
River tosses her long, deep red hair over her shoulder. “Don’t forget lunch too.”
Dean cocks a brow her way, leaning back in his chair. “Does that mean you came over here fo
r lunch today?”
“Sure did. Had the cherry.”
“So you’re the reason there was no cherry left.”
“Yep.” She doesn’t look the least bit apologetic. “And it was worth the look you’re giving me right now.”
Looking in, I bet most would see an angry boyfriend.
But not me.
I see the love shining in his eyes.
It’s so funny to me how River and Dean finally ended up together. Dean talked about her nearly every day and I could tell he was into her, but he’d deny it all day long. Then he was an idiot and set his apartment on fire, and River took him in while it was being worked on. Their feelings came straight to the forefront with them having to live together and face them.
They’re so in love now that I’m betting Dean proposes by Christmas.
“So, Holland,” River says, resting her chin on her hand and looking over at me, “have you talked to your old roommate at all?”
Ugh. I’ve done such a good job today, not thinking about that whole debacle once until now.
“She texted again.”
“Again? Geez. That has to be text 100 since you left.”
“I’m betting more like 200.”
“More of the same?”
I nod. “Yep. Just how sorry she is, or pictures of her watching a show we binged together with little notes like Thinking of you. Stuff like that. The worst part is, I don’t even care. It’s not like I was in love with Lance or anything.” I laugh, but there’s zero humor to it. “That has to mean there’s something wrong with me, right? Like I’m completely broken. My boyfriend cheats on me and I don’t even care about it?”
I mean, I care about it.
But not as much as I probably should.
I’m honestly more upset with myself for even giving him a chance and wasting my time than I am over what he did.
“This is all your mom’s fault,” I say to Dean.
He sits up straight, joining the conversation. “How?”
“If she’d just kept her nose out of my love life and left me be, I wouldn’t have felt so obligated to go out with him.”
“Bullshit. You’re the one who kept it going. You could have just cut him off after the first date. Like you did that one guy who is clearly in love with his stepmother.”
“Bret Johnson? Oh, he is definitely in love with her. She’s pregnant and we both know Mr. Johnson can’t get it up long enough to knock her up.”
His brows shoot up. “No shit?”
“I know.”
“You two come from a strange, strange world.” River looks back and forth between us as we discuss it like it’s nothing.
We shrug.
We weren’t always so involved in all the crazy gossip that sounds like it came directly out of a soap opera. But when you’re suddenly too rich for the poor kids and too new money for the rich kids, there’s nothing to do but sit back and absorb it all.
“What about that guy with the awful handlebar mustache? What ever happened to him?”
“Skipped town because he got his secretary pregnant.”
“Damn.” Dean shakes his head. “And that guy from college?”
“His boyfriend wasn’t too happy about our date, but we still text from time to time. He’s funny as hell.”
“You’ve had all of these awful dates?” River asks, and I nod, confirming the pitiful truth. “Man, I thought I had it bad before I started dating this bozo”—she tilts her head Dean’s way—“but I think yours are taking the cake.”
“Trust me—these aren’t anything.” I wave my hand. “The worst one by far was when I went out with—son of a bitch.”
“A son of a bitch? Because, I mean, that sounds pretty tame compared to the other ones.”
I can’t believe my eyes right now.
Satan’s lovechild is currently standing in The Gravy Train.
He looks completely out of place too as he towers over the server standing at the counter. His dark brown hair that feels like silk is perfectly styled, not a single strand out of place. A light gray dress shirt that probably cost as much as anyone working here makes in a week stretches over his broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows in that annoyingly hot way, showing off his tanned forearms. Black dress pants cling to his long legs, hugging him in all the right places.
The server says something to him, batting her lashes his way.
He doesn’t give her the time of day, looking away, his eyes clashing with mine.
I suck in a breath.
I almost forgot how much his stare can cut right through me.
His golden eyes look just like the tequila I downed earlier, and they affect me the same way—seeping into my veins, making me feel all kinds of off-kilter.
One corner of his mouth lifts, and he nods at whatever the server says to him, then ambles across the restaurant, heading in my direction.
“Went out with who?” River asks again, not noticing that the Devil himself just smirked at me.
“Sutton Barnes,” I say, in answer to her question and to the man who has stopped at the end of our table.
The other corner of his mouth lifts up, and everything snaps back into place.
Irritation takes the place of surprise, and the hate I feel for him hits me like a freight train.
“What are you doing here.” The question isn’t friendly, and it’s not even really a question at all.
Like the asshole he is, he chuckles. “Nice to see you again too, Holls.”
“It’s Holland.” I clench my teeth, hating the way he says my nickname. That’s reserved for family and friends, and Sutton isn’t even close to either. “And I’d say it’s nice to see you too, but you’re the last person I’d ever want to see.”
“Is that your way of saying that when your life flashes before your eyes, you’ll be thinking of me?”
I swear everyone can hear how hard I roll my eyes. “It’s adorable how you think you’re even a blip on my radar.”
“All I heard is how adorable you think I am.” Another fucking smirk. “Hey, Dean,” he says.
My brother, being completely oblivious to the shit Sutton pulled in the past, shakes the asshole’s hand. “Hey, Sutton. How you been, man?”
There’s a slip, just a fraction of a second of hesitation in Sutton’s response, his jaw dropping the slightest bit.
Dean doesn’t notice it, and River definitely doesn’t either.
But I do.
After all the events we’ve sat through together, all the awkward brunches, I notice.
Then, like it never happened, his grin grows even wider than before.
“Really good.”
“Good to hear that.” Dean points to River. “This is my girlfriend, River. River, meet Sutton Barnes. We went to high school together. He was in the same grade as Holland, but because he was such a star out on the field, we played varsity football together.”
“Barnes?” River’s brows lift. “Like the Barneses?”
Another slip in his mask. “Yep,” Sutton answers. “Same ones.”
“Wow.” River whistles. “The empire your family has built…it’s amazing. I’m a businesswoman myself, so I can respect anyone who has worked as hard as your family has to have what they do.”
“Thanks. I—”
“What are you doing here, Sutton?” I interrupt.
It’s rude, but I don’t care.
I got away from Wells Springs and here he comes, the one person I hate the most, crashing into my new haven like he owns the place.
“This place has the best pie.” I narrow my eyes at him as he evades my question, but he doesn’t care. “I tried to get a slice of cherry but they were sold out.”
River giggles—giggles!—pointing at herself. “That would be my fault.” She bumps Dean’s shoulder with hers. “We’re kind of known for stealing all the cherry pie here.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time.” He smiles at her, and it’s the smile t
hat makes girls toss their panties his way.
If River wasn’t madly in love with my brother, I’d be worried she’d fall for his shit like I did once upon a time.
“Are you in town for long?” Dean asks. “You have an aunt in the area, right?”
Aunt? I didn’t know Sutton had an aunt.
“I’ll be around for a while” is all Sutton says. “We’ll have to get together sometime, grab a beer and catch up. I hear you’re coaching football now.”
Probably from our mother. Even though Dean doesn’t do the whole charade anymore, she still brags on him all the time.
“Just middle school, but yeah. It’s better than not playing at all.”
“True.” Sutton tucks his hand in his front pocket. “Well, let me know about that beer. I have a date I have to get to.”
I mentally roll my eyes.
Of course he has a date. Why wouldn’t he?
He turns his golden eyes on me. “It was good to see you, Holland. It’s been too long.”
“Not long enough,” I say through a forced smile.
He chuckles, nods at Dean and River, then finds a seat on the other side of the restaurant. It’s nowhere near far enough away. I can still see him from here, and I bet that was his goal.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you weren’t a fan of him,” River deduces, eyeing me closely.
Dean leans against the table. “It’s just an old war of theirs. They competed at everything. And then one time Holland pantsed him in front of the country club, and Sutton paid her back by making her sit in chocolate pudding so everyone would think she shit her pants. Stupid pranks that went too far. Right, Holls?”
“Right.” So, so wrong.
Dean buys it. River continues to eye me skeptically.
Uncomfortable under her scrutiny, I glance across the restaurant, and our eyes collide like he knew I couldn’t keep myself from staring at him.
One.
Two.
Three.
That’s how many times my heart skips as his gaze bores into me.
His lips pull into a satisfied smirk, and he blows me a kiss.
The reminder of just exactly who he is settles in along with the irritation he brings about.
Tempt Thy Neighbor (Roommate Romps) Page 3