Hey Jude (Lennox Valley Chronicles #1)

“Well, that makes one of us. Get your ass inside. I’ll get you some coffee,” I grumble.

* * *

Standing at the kitchen island, I resentfully fill two mugs with coffee. I glance at the croissant meant for Olena and frown, shoving the plate across the counter to my brother, who perches unsteadily on a stool on the other side.

“How much did you have to drink this morning, Miles?” I ask, although I don’t really want to know. What I want is for him to get his shit together.

“I dunno, man, not that much. I’m fine, really.” He looks tired.

“You don’t smell fine.” I frown, placing a mug in front of him. “Drink this; it’ll sober you up.”

“That’s a myth, you know. That coffee helps you sober up. I saw it in a magazine,” he says unhelpfully.

My eyes narrow as I look at him. I brace both hands on the counter across from him, leaning close. “It’s coffee or a slap in the face, Miles. You got a preference? Because after this morning, I’m thinking I know which one I’d choose.” My lips are tight in a grim expression.

“Okay, geez, coffee it is. Sorry,” he says, taking a dutiful sip.

“I thought you were doing better lately.” I take a bite of my croissant. It’s fucking delicious. I inwardly groan again at the morning’s events. This is not who I was supposed to be sharing decadent baked goods with.

“Well, things changed,” he says, averting his gaze.

“When?” I press.

“I dunno, dude, they just did.” He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.

Too bad.

“When did you start drinking again, Miles?” I’m not letting him off the hook. Not after he gave Olena a goddamned panic attack.

He shrugs, as if being fuzzy on the details will help soften the reality that he’s relapsed. “I dunno. Maybe a few weeks ago. Or months?” He squints up at me.

“Months?” My voice is louder than expected, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Okay, probably not months. Not months.” I can tell he’s trying to ease my obvious alarm.

“Have you called your sponsor?”

He leans back in his seat, grimacing. “Barry is a killjoy, Jude. I’m not calling him.”

“Barry keeps you sober. Barry is good. You’ve gotta follow the program, man,” I remind him and he looks away with guilt in his eyes. He doesn’t respond. “Fine, I’ll call him then,” I say. I move to pick up my phone.

Then, I remember: “Wait, Miles, your car’s out front. You drove here?” My big brother disappointment is on full display. “That’s so fucking dangerous.” I’m shaking my head as I scroll through my phone for Barry’s number.

“Hey, man, I got here safe and sound. It all worked out,” he says casually.

I level him with a look that says you’re fucking lucky you did.

“Why are you here, anyway? What’s happening in Seattle?”

“Aw, you know, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He’s lying. He’s always been a shitty liar. I don’t know why he bothers trying this crap with me. “Bullshit. Out with it.” I put the phone down.

He meets my eyes reluctantly. “Okay, so, that power-tripping foreman I told you about… kinda laid me off.”

“You lost your job?” My hands grip the edge of the counter. I look at the ceiling, searching for patience. “Miles…” I rub my face, exhausted. “When are you gonna get it through your head that you can’t keep going like this?”

He frowns, then takes a bite of Olena’s croissant. “Who was that girl, anyway?” he asks, pumping his eyebrows suggestively. He’s trying to change the subject. I let him; I’m too tired to do this again right now.