5. Rhys

CHAPTER FIVE

Rhys

I look down the penthouse balcony, watching Elton’s BMW pull out of the underground parking lot and onto the busy street.

I know I’m going to be waiting impatiently for him to get back from his meeting with his internship advisor. I’m not usually this clingy, but I think I’d rather wait in the lobby of the College of Business versus doing what he’s asked me to.

I take a drag of my cigarette, already dreading the time I’m about to spend with Everest. Take him textbook shopping , Elton said. It’ll be fun! Fun, my ass. The anticipation of my first solo encounter with him is winding me up way too tightly, causing this to be my third cigarette of the morning. I was going to say no since I work later today, and I would have much rather preferred to just fuck around in my room and order takeout, but he’s a convincing fucker. He made a good point that with summer classes around the corner, if Everest doesn’t get his books now, he’s going to have a tough time finding copies.

And since I apparently can’t say no to anything Elton asks for, I caved and agreed I’d take him.

Fuck me.

I’ve been doing a good job so far at avoiding Everest at all costs. Not entirely impressive, considering I work at night and sleep through most of the day to make up for my nocturnal schedule. In the week he’s been living here, I’ve only seen him a handful of times. Thanks to the ensuite bathrooms and just general size of our penthouse, there’s not much running into to be done. If it weren’t for Elton constantly reminding me of the promise I made him, I could almost pretend that Everest wasn’t living here.

Putting my cigarette out in the ashtray on the balcony, I check my watch, knowing that if Everest wants any chance of snagging his books, we need to start getting ready. I close the sliding glass door behind me and make my way to his room upstairs. Directly across from mine. I thought that would be an issue, but Everest has proven to be a homebody, at least when I’ve been home. I knock and wait a beat before he opens his door.

He’s all sleep-rumpled, hair in messy lines sticking up from his head, and a prominent pillow crease on his cheek. I swear there’s a hint of drool on the corner of his lip as he rubs his half-closed eyes with the back of his hand. For some fucked-up reason, I’m taken back to when we were younger. A flash of a six-year-old Everest asking to join mine and Elton’s sleepover flashes in my mind. A warm type of feeling fills my gut as he sleepily yawns and his lashes flutter against his cheeks, momentarily knocking me off kilter. It’s such a sudden and overwhelming wave of affection that consumes me, and I have to literally fight the urge to reach out and smooth his hair back.

Fuck. That.

“Get dressed,” I snap, spinning on my heels quickly toward my own room. “I’m leaving in ten minutes, whether you’re with me or not.”

I practically scramble to my room, slamming the door shut behind me, and probably leaving Everest wondering what he woke up to. Closing my eyes, I breathe out deeply until I feel a bit more settled. A part of me wants to delve into why seeing Everest like that triggered this type of reaction, but I pull an ‘Elton’ instead.

Sweep that shit right under the rug where it belongs.

“We’ve been standing here for ten minutes.”

I can’t keep the impatience out of my voice. It’s too crowded in here and that’s coming from someone who works at a nightclub. There’s a sort of twitchy energy in the air that can only be caused by fifty freshmen crammed into one room in a gladiator-style fight for books in the best condition. Because I’m trying to play nice, I’m holding all the books Everest has already picked out. Just from the covers, I can guess that he’s taking classes to fill a semester’s worth of general requirements.

If I was a better person, I’d feel bad at the wide-eyed way he’s staring at the bookshelf in front of him. It’s like the titles are written in a different language, even though there’s a clear label on the shelf that reads ‘Introduction to Accounting.’

“Why are there so many options?” Everest asks, nibbling on his bottom lip as he shifts on his heels. “Seriously, though. Why can’t there just be, like, one main textbook?”

“I don’t know,” I say through gritted teeth. Play nice. Play nice. Play nice.

“Why do we still even need textbooks in this day and age? Everything should be online now.”

“Mhm,” I hum, trying to hold back my annoyance. Again, if I were a better man, those down-turned lips and general air of lostness would get to me, but I refrain from saying anything remotely kind. Is it petty? Absolutely. Do I give a fuck? No, especially when my arms feel like they’re going to fall off and I’m hungry as shit.

“Everest, for fuck’s sake, grab the damn books,” I growl and adjust the weight in my arms, when someone reaches from beside me to grab one of the books Everest is looking at. “They’re all going to be gone by the time you’re done doing whatever the hell this is.”

He looks over his shoulder, an expression of deep concern on his features. “Which one am I supposed to pick?”

“How about the one on the syllabus?”

He doesn’t seem to hear the sarcasm in the question and holds it up in front of him. “It says to either choose Introduction to Debits and Credits or Business Reconciliation .”

“Okay, so choose one.”

“But how do I know if I get the right one?”

Jesus fucking Christ. I’m never going to get out of here.

Out of complete self-interest, I shove all his books in his arms, pushing him to the side as I yank his syllabus from his full hands. I read over the course introduction quickly, scanning for keywords and topic focuses. After a second, I grab the first book and stack it on the pile in his arms.

“There. Was that so difficult?” I snap as I start to walk away. “Let’s fucking go.”

He follows behind me as we head to the front to check out, and I can’t hide my groan when I see how long the line is to pay. We get in the very back, silent as we wait for our turn. Once again, I look at the pile in his hands, and try not to let my curiosity get the best of me. In the end, I can’t help the question I want to ask. “How many credits are you taking this semester?”

He looks a little shocked that I’m speaking to him, eyes widening just a touch as they skim between me and the books. “Eighteen.”

“Why so many?”

“That’s how many Elton took his first semester.”

“What the hell?” That makes me snort. He throws me a questioning look, obviously not getting what’s so hilarious about that, and I relent. “No, he didn’t.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, growing a bit flustered as I continue to laugh at him. I can’t help it. He’s so fucking pathetic, it’s laughable. “What?”

“Elton didn’t take shit his first summer,” I explain as we move up a step in the line. “He was too busy chasing after a lifeguard for the entire month of August to study.”

He wrinkles his nose in confusion. “But Mom and Dad?—”

“Aren’t your brother. Did you even ask him what he took?” At his silence, I scoff and roll my eyes, choosing to walk forward instead of pointing out what a piece of shit that makes him. But I can’t help a retort. “Didn’t think so.”

“Do you think it’s too many classes?” he asks, now looking at the books with a mix of disinterest and apprehension.

If it were me, probably not, but I love learning. I overdid it my junior year of high school and signed up for extra classes I didn’t need that didn’t even count toward graduation, just because I wanted to. I have no idea whether Everest has a good work ethic and, frankly, I don’t care. “Up to you.”

“Okay. Well, thanks for that,” he huffs, and the irritation in his voice makes my steps stutter. I guess I earned that for being a dick, but it still makes my blood boil.

“Watch it,” I bark, knowing my temper—which is usually very manageable—is getting to me. “You’re lucky I took you here in the first place.”

“I would have been fine going on my own.” Shaking his head at me, he stands his ground. “If you didn’t want to come that badly, then why did you?”

He’s looking at me expectantly, a sharp hint of a backbone in his eyes, but I don’t know how strong he thinks he is with the way his hands shake as they hold his books. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was self-combusting.

I bite down hard on my lip. While I have no problem being honest, I’m not sure if Elton wants me sharing the promise I made. I can see how some people would react to knowing their brother thinks they need some type of babysitter, like they can’t trust them enough to just figure things out on their own. Maybe if I told Everest the truth, he’d get pissed and confront Elton, making this whole thing go away. But even though I hate the responsibility I’ve been given, I don’t actually want to see these two brothers going at each other’s throats.

A throat clears in front of us, and we both notice that we’re in the front of the line. Instead of answering his question, I just wave a hand in front of us. “It’s our turn.”

He holds his ground for just one more second before nodding and heading to pay. The books, of course, are expensive as shit, but he slides his fancy black card easily and doesn’t even gawk at the price.

We exit the bookstore quickly. More like I hightail it out of there and Everest is left to follow in my wake. Foote University Green is in front of us, an expansive manicured lawn lined with palm trees and dorm rooms. I know from previous experience that sometimes UM will hold fairs and concerts here, but right now it’s just filled with students lounging around on blankets and benches. We parked near the Student Center, so that’s where my feet automatically take me. We have to pass by the Hurricane Food Court as we do, and I almost miss it when Everest stops behind me. “What?”

“Are you hungry?” he asks, gesturing at the Pollo Tropical and other little restaurants that line the building. I shake my head, but my stomach grumbles loudly and betrays me. He snorts. “Want to grab some food?”

“Fuck no.” The words come out before I can think better of it. It was an automatic reaction because is he stupid? Does he actually think I want to willingly spend time with him?

This whole thing is ridiculous. I can’t do this. I can’t be nice to him. It’s physically impossible. I tried my hardest for Elton—as hard as I could—but Everest’s innocent question has ruined any sort of efforts I’ve been trying to make.

He looks flustered, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he opens and closes his mouth. “It was just a question?—”

I can’t help it. Holy shit, I’m losing control. I shove his chest, forcing him to stumble back, because all the rage inside me is just boiling and boiling the longer I’m around him. Somehow, I manage to control myself just a little bit, biting back what I want to say. “We’re going home.”

I start walking back to the car, but Everest is hot on my heels. He reaches for me, trying to slow me down, and I whip my head at him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

He gasps and drops his hand immediately. “Rhys?—”

“I don’t want to hear shit out of you right now,” I seethe, knowing that—to Everest—I’m probably acting irrational, but am I?

Unless Everest is an idiot, he has to know that the bad blood between us runs thick. I don’t believe that this tension is just lost on him. But maybe it is. He’s acting like everything is fine, like we’re friends, and like the past has just magically disappeared.

It fucking hasn’t.

He doesn’t try to stop me or say anything else as I walk away. I hop into my car and barely stop myself from driving away without him. He stumbles in awkwardly, throwing nervous glances my way, but I just ignore his presence. With a clenched jaw, I start the car and head back home.

The drive back is uneasy and filled with awkwardness. My momentary break fills the air with a sense of discomfort. I don’t care. The less attached Everest gets, the better. This is nothing but a promise to Elton. That’s it.

I just have to remember that, because I don’t know how much longer I can hold myself back from letting the anger win.