Page 42 of Actually Yours

I glance to the room where Hank isstillasleep and turn away.

“He’s not my problem.”

“Good for you.” Jake’s soft response gives me the courage to walk out of the room, letting the door close behind me. When Hank wakes up and finds himself alone, I hope he doesn’t freak out too much.

OK, maybe he can freak out, just a little.

“Where to now?”

I turn the phone from video back to just audio, reluctantly giving up the pleasure of looking at Jake’s face. “I’m heading home,” I answer his question. “To sleep away the horror of yet another date gone wrong.”

He’s silent on the other end and once again I wish I knew what he was thinking.

“It wasn’t the worst way to spend an afternoon…” he trails off, leaving an opening for me.

“No, spending the afternoon saving the leader of our nation definitely wasn’t a terrible use of my time.”

He laughs, a deep, rich sound I want to bathe in.

“Well, feel free to call should you ever find yourself on another such mission. Or if you just want to chat.”

Again, he leaves an opening for me. One I should shut down, given his status as my ex-boyfriend’s older brother.

“I like the sound of that,” I tell him before hanging up. Because I like the sound of it altogether too much.

And it’s becoming a problem.

A very big problem indeed.

CHAPTER 9

Jake

She’s on another date.

It’s been a week since my virtual escape room date with Amelia and we’ve spoken every day. And as feared, it’s been wonderful. Being around this woman, even if it’s just over the phone, is as natural as breathing, and it’s why I stayed far, far away from her when she was dating my brother.

“You alright, Jake?”

That’s Steven. He’s dragged me out of my house—literally came to my door and pulled me off the couch in the middle of the penultimate episode ofAlone—claiming it’s his duty as my best friend to ensure I don’t end up as a sad, lonely guy. Not that I care about having that title. It’s been well-earned and well-deserved. Especially considering the tiny but impactful bombshell Amelia dropped into our last call. That despite vowing to end this crusade to find her perfect match, she’d been convinced by her friends (damn them) to give Dr. Dave a chance. She’s out with him right now. Hence the need for me to be out of the house, drinking with my mates, despite it only being two weeks since my last enforced social engagement.

“I’m fine,” I sigh, hoping that if I say it often enough, it will eventually be true.

“Good, because tonight we are getting you out of your self-imposed life as a monk. It’s time for you to start dating again.”

I snort. The wordagainimplies that the dating ever began. And given it’s been at least a year since I last looked at a woman in that way, I’m guessing I’m probably more than a little rusty in this department.

“Come on man, the Eeyore mood is killing our vibe.” This is from Aaron, a friend from law school whom Steven had convinced to join us. An effort to make it more festive, perhaps.

“Shut up,” I grunt at him, not in the mood for any crap. “I’m here under duress and refuse to be happy about it.”

My friends both grin at me. “A few more drinks and you’ll be fine.”

Aaron disappears towards the bar, intent on finding the magic cure for my anhedonia. I want to tell him that his efforts will be in vain, that with Amelia out there on another date, with a doctor this time, there will be no cheering me up.

“Snap out of this,” Steven slaps me on the back. “She’s not worth it.”

My blood bubbles at this. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I grit this out between my clenched teeth, wondering if this will be the time. The first time I punch my best friend in over twenty-five years of friendship.

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