2. Chapter Two

Matty

I ran my fingers through my freshly cut short hair and grinned at my laptop's camera. "Good to see you didn't forget about me."

Jared scrubbed his hands over his face, his dark brown eyes apologetic. "I am so sorry, man."

I shrugged one shoulder. "It's okay. I know you love me anyway."

That brought a smile to Jared's face. "Like you're my own brother." He hesitated a moment before tilting his head slightly, a lock of dark brown hair falling across his forehead. "Speaking of, how's Kas?"

I tried not to roll my eyes, despite my fond smile. My brother Kasper had always had a tense relationship with Jared. Whenever they were in the same room—which wasn't often, considering we lived 4,000 miles apart—Jared wasted no time in needling Kasper, and Kas gave it right back. Even still, Jared cared about Kas, because he was—for better or worse—a part of my family.

"Kasper is good. Did I tell you that Ingrid is pregnant?"

Jared's eyes lit up. "No! That's awesome. You're going to be an uncle."

I nodded. "Ja. I'm excited, too. You'll have to come visit after the baby is born." I'd been trying to get Jared to visit me in Oslo for over a decade, but something always got in the way. Maybe that time would be the time.

"That would be awesome."

Rather than give him time to ask about my now-ex girlfriend Linnea, which Jared would certainly do if I left the conversation open, I pivoted. "And how about your family?" I asked cautiously. Jared didn't often mention his family and I didn't like pressing on bruises.

He shrugged with a small frown. "Same, I guess. Mom and Dad are… Mom and Dad. They still don't approve of my career choices. I haven't talked to Grace in a while."

I nodded solemnly. "You met with your agent this week, right? How did that go?"

His frown deepened. "He says I need to build my fan base. Find a way to get people to love me. And I need to do it soon because I'm not getting any younger."

"You're hardly old."

"I'll be thirty soon. They sign 'em younger and younger these days. Thirty's practically ancient." He sighed and shook his head. "Let's talk about something else. What about you? Any news?"

I shook my head. "Not especially. I feel stagnant, you know? I feel I've written everything there is to write about Scandinavia." I'd been a travel writer since I graduated university and in the past eight years, I'd exclusively focused on travel opportunities in Denmark, Norway, and Sweden.

"Why do you write about Scandinavia so much anyway? Why not venture out to the rest of Europe? Or, hell, anywhere you want?"

It was my turn to shrug. "I started out broke, so I focused on what I knew. My writing became popular so quickly, within a year I was known as the writer to follow if someone was coming here. I guess I've always been afraid to deviate from that. Why fix what isn't broken, isn't that the expression?"

He nodded. "Well, where would you like to write about?"

I let out a wistful little sigh. "America. I'd love to come back. I sometimes feel that my time in Norway is done and I should immigrate to America permanently."

"When was the last time you were here? High school, right?"

"Ja. Not since I lived with you."

We were quiet for a moment before Jared cleared his throat to speak. "Why don't you immigrate then?"

"American immigrant visas are hard to get. I don't have family there or a particularly desired job and I'm certainly not independently wealthy."

Jared's smile fell. "We'll figure something out, don't worry." A beat passed.

"What about Lina?"

I grimaced. "I ended things with her."

Jared's eyes widened. "What? Why?"

"We didn't share the same vision for the future. She hated how much I travel and I didn't want to give it up and settle down, which is what she wanted. She was ready for a family, and I'm still trying to find a way to make my dreams happen first."

He nodded solemnly for a moment, but then Jared's grin returned. "You just gotta find an American to rope in with those Norwegian baby blues. Get yourself a marriage visa."

I rolled my eyes, but I didn't hide my smile. "Whatever you say, min venn." As I shook my head, a yawn hit me and my efforts to suppress it were unsuccessful. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine. I should let you go. It's five here, so it must be late there."

I checked the clock and saw that it was just an hour until midnight. "It was good seeing you."

"Next week?"

"Of course." Moments later, we both logged off and I closed my laptop. Often, Jared's calls were the highlight of my week, and that night was no exception. I padded around my apartment, checking the locks on the doors before making my way into my bedroom. It was warm and sticky. Summer heat had settled in and very few homes had air conditioning—at least not permanent units. I had a small portable unit that I turned on before crawling into bed.

The moment I'd closed my eyes, my phone chimed, and I realized I hadn't silenced it. I checked, against my better judgment, and to my dismay saw a text from Kasper.

"Are you awake?"

With a sigh, I rolled to my back and dialed my brother's number. He answered quickly.

"Hallo, Matthias."

I cringed. I didn't mind it when Mamma did it, but Kasper saying my full name got on my nerves every time. Almost everyone else called me Matt, which I vastly preferred. Only Jared could get away with calling me Matty, and my brother hated the nickname. Kasper was a traditionalist, to say the least.

"Hi. What do you need at this hour?"

"I just got a message from Linnea. Are you alright?"

I rubbed my hand over my face. "Why is my ex texting you at nearly midnight?"

"Ex?"

"Ja. We ended things this week."

"Well, she said she hadn't heard from you and was worried about your well-being. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm in bed, at home, alone, trying to sleep, if you don't mind. And she can't get through to me because I blocked her number. She was… quite intense when I broke up with her. After three days and literally dozens of messages, I blocked her."

Kasper hummed. "Very well then. I'm sure I'll speak to you soon. I'll tell Linnea that you're well and she should speak to you directly."

"Thanks, Kasper. God natt." I ended the call, turned my phone on silent and closed my eyes once again, hoping for nothing other than dreams of America.