Page 4 of My Brother's Best Men
My brother shakes the beer bottle at me, pulling my attention away from them.
“No, thanks,” I say, feeling on the spot.
“Right, that makes sense,” Matthew says. “You know I can’t do math to save my fucking life.” Everyone laughs, but I note the smirk on his face. “I mean, I’m pretty sure Sophie was the one responsible for me actually passing Carlisle’s bullshit math class, not me.”
A faint smile tugs at my lips as those memories threaten me too.
I spent too many nights cuddled beside Matthew, pouring over fractions and decimals and things that every other student at Cherrywood High could do in their sleep. Matthew wasn’t like the other students. He struggled. A lot.
At least, he did when we were in school together. But judging from some of the things my brother’s said over the years, I guesshe’s done okay for himself, even if he is between jobs at the moment.
Which makes me happy, I guess. At least someone’s out there living their best single life.
You’re single now, the bitter voice in my brain reminds me.
I know technically I am. I mean, I lobbed the ring at Keaton’s head and told him we were done and I never wanted to see him again, so I’m pretty sure that’s telling enough, but there’s a part of me, however small, that clings to the idea that maybe, just maybe…
There’s still a chance for us to fix things.
No! Absolutely not, Sophie. The man was cheating on you. God only knows how long. Do not text him, call him, zip! Fuck that asshole.
I shift uncomfortably, my insides twisting in turmoil. I haven’t been single in years. Before I met Keaton, I was doing the dating app thing, and I met and dated a couple of guys in Portland. Nothing serious, of course, but I wasn’t looking for anything serious either, at the time. I figured if I met the right guy, things would change, and then those guys just…fizzled out. It was like that for a while. I’d meet a cute guy, we’d hook up a bit, maybe go on a few dates, and then something would come up and we’d just kind of fall apart.
I used to feel bad about that, like it was my fault somehow. But then Melissa, my co-worker and probably the closest thing I have to a best friend back home in Seattle—she’s been with me since our early days in orientation in Portland—told me it wasn’t me, it wasthem.
According to Melissa, men are incapable of actual commitment.
I didn’t believe her then; I was so optimistic. I thought love existed, that it was out there for me and I just hadn’t met the right guy yet. And then Keaton came along and swept me off my feet like the Prince Charming he was and…
Matthew lets out one of those boyish, endearing laughs of his, dispelling my melancholic thoughts. Trying to rid my thoughts of Keaton and what a fool I was, I offer Matthew a soft smile, remembering those nights at his dining room table, pouring over fractions.
Matthew’s determination was always endearing, but it was his reluctance to let things get him down that I always envied. He was just…happy. Happy to be in the moment, happy to find the silver lining in all the dark clouds that surrounded him. He was always like that, and I’d wager by the sight of his smile, that hasn’t changed. I’ve always admired his ability to just keep rolling with whatever punches life threw at him—and when we were younger, there were a lot of obstacles for Matthew. But he never gave up. He was relentless. Even as hard as math was for him, he didn’t give up. He worked his ass off with me, and it certainly paid off.
“I didn’t take your tests, though,” I say, offering Matthew a half smile. “Pretty sure you passed all on your own.”
Matthew smirks at me as I take in the sight of the guys, all relaxed in my brother’s living room, like they practically live here. But I guess that’s what happens when you don’t move across the country and instead opt to stay in this small town.
In many ways, this scene—this moment—is no different from when we used to hang out as kids in high school. My brotherand his friends, just chilling in the living room. Me crashing the scene.
But the guys definitelylookdifferent. Benny, his tattooed arms and scruffy facial hair that looks like he hasn’t shaved in a couple days, his large biceps on full display. Matthew with his messy surfer blond hair, his jaw sharper and not as soft as I remember. He’s definitely filled out too, no longer the baby-faced neighbor I remember.
And Elijah…
My gaze drifts to him, to his deep, warm gaze. He looks different too. Older. More refined and sophisticated, in his button-down and khakis. In a way, he reminds me of Keaton with his business-casual chic appearance, but I know in reality Elijah isn’t anything like Keaton. Not by a long shot. I have to fight to look away from him, especially because I know if I keep it up, I’ll just hurt myself more.
I’ll remember how things used to be. How heusedto be my best friend.
How I lost him too…
Given the fact that I haven’t seen any of them in years, I know I should be happy, maybe even a little chatty. I shouldwantto catch up and shoot the shit and all that, but I can’t seem to find the energy for that right now. Maybe if things were different, and I hadn’t found my fiancé balls deep in another woman on our bed, I would feel differently, but right now it’s taking all my concentration tonotbreak down over what happened, and I think the fact that I’m standing here in Sam’s living room without bawling is a feat in itself.
I turn my attention away from Elijah to see Matthew smiling softly at me, the sight making my stomach flip. Well, I mean…that could be the anxiety, the nerves too.
My skin heats, and suddenly I feel rather dizzy. I need to sit down, need to breathe…
Almost as if he can read my mind, Benny speaks, his tone commanding and brash. “Sit down, Soph. Stay awhile.” I watch as he takes a pull of his beer, watch as his piercing blue eyes capture my gaze in a stern challenge. Like he’s the boss of me.
Spoiler alert—he’s not, and he never was, but…
