Page 58 of Lessons in Heartbreak

Instead of lingering on that, I cleared my throat and grabbed the remote, punching the off button. “Sometimes it’s good to expose ourselves to other sorts of entertainment. I’ve learned a lot about women by watching these movies. Do you know the kind of shit that was considered foreplay back then? Hand-holding. Dancing at a public ball when they hardly touched, and they had no privacy. Ever. It wasn’t about anything physical, you know? Yeah, they’re going for the rich guys because women had no power back then and they needed the protection of a secure marriage, but they still wanted someone who was kind and respectful and loyal.”

The beat of silence was so thick I could hear my erratic pulse thundering in my ears.

He stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Holy shit, I think I’m having a drug-induced hallucination.”

“Are you high?” I asked incredulously.

“Well, no, but I have to be, right?” Then he waved a hand in front of his face. “No, I can see clearly. My vision isn’t warped. Maybe I’m sleeping.”

I smacked the back of his head. Hard.

“Ouch, you fucker.” He smacked me back. “That hurt.”

“It was supposed to. You’re barging into my vacation and making fun of my movies; what do you expect me to do? Throw you a welcome party?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “I wanna raid the bar, man. Guaranteed Steven has some good shit. He’ll forgive us, right?”

“Doubtful.”

Marcus slung his arm over my shoulders and turned me toward the hallway leading back to the living area. “Let’s find out.”

Twenty minutes later, Marcus had emptied the cupboards of all the most expensive bottles of our agent’s liquor, taking tiny sips of all of them. “Oh yeah, that’s sexy,” he groaned. “That’s the winner.”

It was a whiskey, by the looks of it, and he made his way to the kitchen to put a tiny bit of water into two lowball glasses. Then he added a generous amount of the whiskey, swirling a glass before handing it to me.

I took a small sip, humming as the warmth slid down my throat. “Good.”

“Fucking great,” he sighed, taking a seat on the couch and spreading an arm out. “You taking me out tonight?”

“Absolutely not.”

He laughed. “Oh, come on. You used to be the fun King brother.”

“I still am, believe it or not.”

Marcus scratched the side of his beard and studied me thoughtfully. “Nothing to do with this friend you wouldn’t show me, is it?”

Somehow, I kept my face even. “No. She’s just a friend.”

“Come on, she’s hot, right? You can tell Uncle Marcus.”

I swatted at his hand when he settled it on my shoulder. “You are so fucking creepy.” I laughed.

He grinned. “She local?”

I nodded slowly. “We knew each other when we were kids. She had a crush on Barrett. Didn’t know that until recently.”

“Ahhh,” he answered with a grave expression. “So she has shit taste in men.”

My brain stalled around a vivid memory—the way she’d whimpered when I sucked lightly on her tongue—and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

“I suppose she does,” I answered dryly. “How long you staying around?”

He shrugged. “Might crash here tonight if that’s okay. Then I can get drunk with my friend.”

I shook my head. “How the hell do you function during the season, Marcus?”

“God only knows,” he replied seriously.

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