The Muse's Undoing

I offer him a non-committal hum. “Maybe Matty and I can come out sometime. Once I touch base with him, I’ll see when he’s free.”

“You’re welcome to come alone, you know?”

I don’t like going alone. As the adopted one, I find Dick and Donna’s singular attention awkward. I know they care about me. Love me, even. But it’s complicated. I was their only son for thirteen years, and they adopted me as an infant, but I was a major asshole once the twins were born, burning bridges left and right. My long-suffering adopted parents have since been like a two-person bridge building crew while I stand on my side and watch them in curiosity without lifting a finger to help, unable to understand the point of all their effort.

These weekly check ins, which I guess will be on the phone now that I’m home, are all the attention I need. “I’ll check my calendar.”

Dick chuckles. “I’ll let you go, then. I’m sure you have a lot of work to do getting settled in.”

I do, or at least—I can find some. I let him end the call.

Matty hasn’t texted me again, and I assume he’s busy.

Since Nicole and I separated, my brother became my closest friend again, even after all the time away and the ways our lives have grown apart, but my old college roommate Gibson is the only option to distract me tonight since Matthew’s working.

Gibson Hayes owns The Eastmoor where I live and was the one who gave me and Nicole the heads up when the apartment became available. When he isn’t out making million dollar real estate deals in New York, he’s managing another asset of his—a club only a privileged few know about.

I freshen up before heading out. It’s nine-thirty when I leave the building to make my way a few blocks up, which means I’ll finally see Matty.

I’m nervously looking forward to it. Like I told him in probably eighty percent of my emails—I miss him.

He glances up with a practiced smile when I leave the vestibule and make the right turn into the lobby, but his expression immediately changes into a look I don’t know if I can describe. Part confusion, part relief, part…fondness?

He stands, and I give myself a second to take him in.

He looks great, but I don’t know why I’m surprised. His dark, wavy hair is tamed away from his face, giving him an air of professionalism. But his stormy blue eyes speak to his untamed spirit. His rose gold skin glows with radiant youth, and I can’t help my growing smile. “Hey, Matty.”

His responding grin lights up his too handsome face. “Come here,” he says, engulfing me in a hug I gladly return.

My heart jolts, like an engine roaring to life. He’s solid and warm and real. The heat of his chest against mine grounds me in a sense of home. I immediately feel welcome and wanted. The two things Dick tried to convey and what I’ve longed for most. The way I feel about my brother is complicated, but being with him is the easiest thing in the world.

“So fucking good to see you,” I tell him.

He squeezes me tighter. “You, too.”

My eyes close, and I rearrange my grip, noting the contours of his back beneath his suit.

“You smell like you have big plans,” he says.

“Is it too much?” I ask.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You look great,” I tell him.

“So do you.”

We’re still hugging, and I’m not sure he got that good of a look at me, but I’ll take the compliment. Eventually, we separate slightly, and he assesses me like he’s studying me for a portrait. “Welcome home,” he says.

My grin flickers again. “Thanks.”

“We should find some time to catch up.”

“I’d be offended if we didn’t,” I say.

His hands fall to my upper arms, and I mimic the movement, reluctant to let go of him. To say I’m starved for his touch would be a severe understatement.

“Where are you headed?” he asks