Page 38 of Worth the Fall
Patrick sensed the tension in the air. “I was gone for two seconds. What could have possibly happened in that amount of time?”
“Ask your brother,” I growled before following Clara up the stairs to an oversize loft that had clearly been made just for her.
“Uncle Patrick said it’s a room for me to have sleepovers.” She started spinning in the space, her arms outstretched.
“He made you a room?”
“Isn’t that nice? And look.” She tugged me over toward some mirror with lights and all kinds of girlie shit organized into little containers. “This is for braiding my hair.”
Both of my brothers were trying to steal my girls.
Yeah, I’d psychoanalyze that thought later.
Or ignore it completely.
After dinner, Clarawent to play in her fancy princess room upstairs, and Jasper followed dutifully behind her.
“Beer?” Patrick asked, and we all nodded in agreement as we made our way toward the built-in bar that looked like it belonged in a restaurant.
Matthew and I sat down on barstools as Patrick grabbed three mugs out of a chilled fridge and pulled a lever I hadn’t noticed until now.
“You have a keg?” I asked, and he nodded.
“Nothing better than an ice-cold beer,” Patrick explained as he tilted the glasses and filled three perfect pours.
I reached for one and spotted the ice chips floating inside. “Damn, this is perfect,” I said as I took a sip.
Matthew made a sound as he finished his entire mug in what looked like one gulp before slamming it down on top of the bar. “I’ll take another,” he said with a grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You’re supposed to enjoy it.” Patrick frowned.
“Oh, I did enjoy it. So much so that I’d like another, barkeep.” He smirked, but Patrick grabbed his mug and refilled it.
“Don’t chug this one. We’re not in a beer drinking competition.”
“I can handle my liquor,” Matthew chirped, and Patrick chuffed.
“That’s why I’m picking your ass up every other night from the saloon, huh? ’Cause you handle it so well.”
Matthew waved him away. “I’ll probably call Brooklyn to come get me now since she lives so close,” he said, and my jealousy instantly spiked.
“What? Why would you call Brooklyn?” Patrick asked, thoroughly confused.
“Oh yeah. You were upstairs and didn’t hear.” Matthew started to explain, “Brooklyn moved in next door to me.”
I was shooting my youngest brother daggers as he started laughing, and Patrick was looking between the two of us.
“I, uh...” Patrick stumbled on his words. “Maybe you shouldn’t go there, brother.”
“Don’t see why not,” Matthew fired back.
“Yeah, you do,” Patrick answered.
I took another swig of beer before swallowing, my focus now solely on the ice still floating on top.
Matthew suddenly clapped me on the back. “Just admit you like her, and I’ll stop.”
I turned to glare at him. “I don’t even know her.”