Chapter 11

Eleven

TAM

“If we were fucking? Trust me, I’d make an exception.”

The words play on repeat in my head for hours after Bhodi leaves.

Days, in fact.

A week and a half.

Because it's that long before I get to see him again in any real capacity. Bhodi's shift pattern works against us. Then I wake up one morning to find Sab asleep on my sofa, his baby girl in a travel cot behind him, and everything’s fucked.

For him, at least.

I kick his foot for the tenth time in the past hour. “What the fuck are you doing with your life?”

Sab grunts, still ankle-deep in whatever drove him to walk out on his missus and drive all the way here.

He’s not hurt.

Physically .

But for the first time in years, I have no idea where his head is at. “Did you relapse?”

“What?”

“ Relapse ,” I repeat, balancing Esme on my hip. She’s half asleep and way less annoying than her dad. “As in?—”

“I know what you meant.”

Sab shoves to his feet and stomps to the kitchen.

He comes back with the ragout I’d had grand plans to share with Bhodi tonight if he made it home from the hospital before I passed out. Or for breakfast if it’s the only time I catch him. Now it’s Sab’s brunch and I’m as irritated about that as I am about his sudden need to be fucking coy.

“Stop eating my food and tell me what the fuck’s going on.”

“Where’s your Christmas tree?”

“I haven’t done it yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” Because I’ve been waiting for Bhodi to come and choose one with me. Because I know it’s one of his favourite parts of Christmas, and he’s probably going to miss everything else. “Don’t change the subject.”

Sab sets his bowl down and sends me a flat look. “Why would I confide in you when the first thing you think is that I’ve been on the fucking sniff?”

“It’s the only thing you’ve ever lied to me about.”

“You think I’m lying?”

“No, I think you’re being a fucking weirdo and that usually means you’ve fucked something up.” I want to shout. But with Esme in my arms, all I manage is a barbed whisper. And maybe, that’s why he brought her. To use as a human shield. “Does Charmaine know you’re here?”

“Charmaine doesn’t care where I go. ”

“She cares about Esme.”

Sab snorts. “Does she?”

“Far as I know. You want to tell me something different?”

Sab glares at the floorboards.

I want to punch him, so I retreat upstairs with Esme and put her down for a nap in the cot that’s already migrated to my bedroom. For her sake, not his. Though, I’d give my brother my bed in a heartbeat. My whole house and everything in it.

I’d give him my patience if I had any.

Newsflash: I don’t.

I get in his face the second I’m back downstairs. “Fucking tell me.”

“She’s been knocking off that dickhead from the gym.”

I search my brain for anyone and everyone Sab’s complained about. It’s a short list. My brother’s a nice bloke—nicer than me —and one name sticks out. “Dwaine? With the disco pump arms?”

“That’s the prick. She’s been banging him for two years.”

Two years. I do the maths and my stomach drops. “That’s longer than you’ve been together.”

“Yup.”

“But…” I glance at the ceiling.

Sab grimaces. “Yup. But it’s okay. I checked. She’s mine.”

“How did you check?”

“DNA test when Char was “at her mum’s” for the night. I felt fucking unhinged when I was doing it, but it was okay in the end.”

My heart retreats from the wild gallop it leaned into while I contemplated losing Esme. Sab losing Esme. “That’s?—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sab growls. “She’s my kid, and I wouldn’t have cared if the test had said any different.”

I don’t doubt him. Not for one second. But I’m not na?ve enough to believe it would’ve been that easy. Nothing ever is. “What are you going to do?”

Sab lapses into muttering in French. I give him the mental space to do it, all the while knowing I won’t leave his side, and of course , it’s the moment I hear Bhodi’s car pull up outside.

Rudy hears him too. He likes Bhodi and he goes to the door to whine and wait on the mat, assuming Bhodi will at least knock to say hello.

But I know he won’t. Sab’s van will put him off, and a wrench twists my stomach.

I miss him, I realise. At some point over the past month or so, he’s become a non-negotiable in my life. And we’ve barely kissed. Because we’re friends.

“That the hot lodger?”

I retune to find Sab has hauled his spurned self off the couch and moved to the window, and it annoys me that he can see Bhodi and I can’t. “Mind your own business.”

Sab swivels to face me. “You’re banging him, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“ No .” I rise and drag Sab from the window. “How did you leave things with Charmaine?”

“I punched her fancy man. She called me a closet bender.”

“Why would she say that?”

Sab sighs. “Because I told her once upon a time that I’d happily fuck a bloke if I ever met one that turned my head. I was drunk, and I forgot about it. She used it as an excuse to go running back to Captain Roid. Then she got knocked up and knew it was mine, so…I guess she only stayed with me because of Esme. ”

“That’s the only reason you stayed with her .”

“I know, but at least I tried to make it work. Treated her like a fucking queen, all while she’s making digs about you, about me, and everything about us. But I’d never have cheated on her, Tam. I’d have offed myself before I did that to the mother of my kid.”

He’s come close before, to killing himself. It’s been years, but I can’t forget it. I pull him into a hug and squeeze him tight, letting my irritation bleed out of me. “It’s going to be okay. You can stay with me as long as you need.”

Sab lets me hold him. Then he backs off. “She’s not going to let me hole up here with Esme. I have to go back.”

“You need money? I can help you put a deposit down on a place.”

“With what? You’re as skint as I am.”

“You can have the annex money.”

“No.”

I’m the stubborn one, but I know Sab, and for now, there’s no changing his mind. I leave him to his foraged brunch and head upstairs to work.

It’s mid-afternoon when I blink out of an ink daze to see Bhodi leaving the annex.

He’s in running gear, which I like. But the pavements are icy as hell, a definite fuck no .

I push back from my desk and jog downstairs. Sab is on the rug in front of the log burner, playing with Esme. He shoots me a knowing look. I ignore him and dash outside barefoot. “Hey.”

Bhodi spins around, startled, and it makes his eyes impossibly brighter. Like gemstones in the fucking snow. “Hey.”

“Going running? ”

“No, I just really like leggings.”

“You’re not wearing leggings.”

“I am underneath. It’s cold.”

“It’s icy . You got crampons for those pretty feet?”

He grins. “You think my feet are pretty?”

“If they’re anything like the rest of you.”

Bhodi laughs into a broad grin. “Charmer. Where’ve you been all my life?”

Waiting for you. “Be careful, okay? It’s getting dark.”

His smile fades a little. “I will, I promise. Everything all right?”

I can’t lie to him. “Sab’s having life drama. Him and the baby are holed up in my place.”

“Baby?”

“My niece. Esme. I didn’t tell you about her?”

“You might’ve done.” Bhodi blows on his hands. “I get a bit empty-headed around you.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you’re pretty, Dubois.”

I feel like a new man. All day I’ve vacillated between missing him and worrying about Sab. Now I’m ten seconds deep with him and my smile hurts my face. “Are you home tonight?”

Bhodi nods. “Unless I get called in. Everyone’s got norovirus, so it might happen if the ward loses too many of the night shift. Why?”

I don’t actually know. Sab isn’t going anywhere, but the thought of not seeing Bhodi for however long my brother needs me is enough to kill my smile.

Bhodi steps closer. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

He eyes me for a long moment, then brushes a cautious kiss to my cheek. “Hey, I’m in all night. Come find me if you need something. And wear shoes when you do.”

When. Not if. And Bhodi’s gone before my imagination can run wild with that one, leaving me to trudge back inside to face Sab. He hasn’t moved, but he doesn’t have to bear witness to every second of my life to read me. “He does something to you.”

I’m tired of denying it. I stretch out on the rug and tweak Esme’s dark, Dubois curls. “I know.”

“Something good?”

“Maybe.”

Sab snorts. “It’s definitely something good. I’ve never seen you chase after someone like that. And you’ve been waiting to catch sight of him all day.”

“I don’t have his number.”

“He kissed you.”

“You kiss me all the time.”

“I’m your brother.” Sab plants a smacker on my cheek. “And we’re French. But if you looked at me the way you were looking at him, I’d call the police.”

“Fuck off.”

Sab hums, thinking, which is always dangerous. “How did you leave it?”

“Leave what?”

“Whatever fuckwit conversation you treated him to outside.”

The baby stops me poking him. I steal her and sit her on my chest, ignoring the ache in my back that’s been grumbling since I told Bhodi about the accident. As if it wants to remind me of something I haven’t figured out yet. “I asked if he was in later.”

“And? ”

“ And , he said he was.”

“Please tell me you’re going to go over there and kiss him back.”

“What makes you think he wasn’t kissing me back?”

Sab laughs, though it’s dimmed by the stress lining his face. “Fucking knew it.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I know you . And as your favourite sibling, it’s my responsibly to make sure you don’t Tam your way out of something that makes you giddy enough to run out the door half-dressed.”

“I’m dressed.”

“Your jeans are undone.”

“No, they’re not.”

“Whatever. My point stands. Don’t waste this, mon frère. You deserve better than that. Maybe you both do.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to quip that Bhodi deserves better than me . And that Sab’s my only fucking sibling, so he’s my favourite by default. But my mind skips past all that too fast for me to verbalise, too eager to get to the good shit—the possibility that I get to see Bhodi again today. The certainty, actually. There’s no doubt in my mind I’ll be knocking on his door before this day is over.

The real question is how long I can hold out.