The Sweetest Game
Page 12

Dean appeared and I ushered him out the door without another word. Once in the lobby, I pointed Matteo out to him.
“Jesus, Jack. That’s the guy you hired to drive Cassie around the city? What the hell’s wrong with you?”
Jack shrugged. “What can I say? I’m overly confident and cocky. Have we met?”
We walked through the revolving door and Matteo extended his hand. “Hi, Dean. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Dean added, his tone wary.
Matteo opened the door and walked toward the driver’s side and hopped in. “I’m sure you have,” he said as he caught Dean’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “I’ll apologize to you as well, if you’d like.”
“Nah. She wasn’t my girlfriend.” Dean looked at me. “You’re lucky Cassie didn’t leave you for him. Hell, I’m about to leave you for him. Are you looking for a new brother? Want to adopt me?” Dean blurted out.
Matteo laughed from the front seat. “You bet, kid. ‘Cause us Italian New Yorkers don’t have enough family members.”
“What about your wife? Does she have any sisters?”
I sat up straighter. “Holy shit, does she? I never even thought about that. I mean, of course, I wouldn’t but—” I stopped abruptly, realizing that didn’t exactly come out right.
Matteo chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry. She’s all mine and there’s only one of her.”
“Fucking figures,” Dean muttered under his breath.
“Do you care where we drink?” Matteo asked.
“Somewhere private. No sports bars or shit like that,” I insisted.
“Do you really think I’d take you to a sports bar? I’m hurt, man. Crushed.”
“So, where are we going?” Dean asked as the car slowed to a stop.
I looked out the window, recognizing the entrance from a profile shoot Cassie had done on historical bars in the city.
“I know this place. Cassie photographed it for the magazine.”
Matteo threw his head back. “That’s right! I remember that. This place used to be a speakeasy. Sinatra used to hang out here with his boys. It’s pretty cool. Lots of history.”
We walked into the dimly lit bar and paused for a second so our eyes could adjust. Coming inside from the bright afternoon sunshine, this place seemed almost as dark as night. Giving the bartender a nod, Matteo pointed toward the back of the room, where a velvet rope hung. The three of us headed toward the small table behind the rope. The place was virtually empty, except for the few guys sitting at the bar. I prayed they wouldn’t recognize me.
“I’ll grab us drinks,” Matteo offered. “What are we having?”
“Beer for me. Whatever’s on tap and good,” I responded.
“Same here,” Dean added.
I waited for Matteo to return before I started asking Dean any questions, figuring he might have some outside perspective to offer. A few minutes later he came back, balancing all three beers in his hands before setting them on the table without spilling a drop.
“You’re a fucking boss,” I said, complimenting him on his skills before tapping my glass against his.
“Ah, I used to tend bar in college,” he said, and I laughed, almost spitting my beer at him.
“Why am I not surprised?” I took a deep swig of the beer, closing my eyes for a second in appreciation of its icy goodness.
“The real question is why is that so funny?”
I shrugged and said, “I have no fucking idea.” Then I laughed some more, convinced my body and mind were out to betray me after I’d treated them so badly this past week.
Dean looked back and forth between me and Matteo. “I don’t get why you’re laughing? What the fuck did I miss?”
“I have no idea,” Matteo said with a raised eyebrow as I pulled myself together.
Why the fuck was I suddenly giggling like a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl? It was like once I started laughing, I couldn’t fucking stop. And knowing that I needed the release only made it worse. I focused on my breathing, pretending I was on the mound during a crisis. I needed to calm down.
My breathing slowed and I looked at my baby brother. “So, what happened?”
“Are you done with your giggle fit?” Dean asked, apparently full of piss and vinegar.
“For now. So, tell me what happened,” I urged before taking a swig of my ice cold beer. I loved cold beer.
Dean sighed and rolled his beer between his palms. “We had sex last night and I thought that changed things between us.”
“Wait, why would that change things? This wasn’t the first time you two …” I paused, eyeing him.
“Yes. It was the first time. Melissa knows how I feel about her. She knows.” He shook his head and I could see that he was hurting.
“Maybe it wasn’t good sex,” I said with a laugh to lighten the mood.
“Fuck you,” Dean shot back. “It was the hottest sex I’ve ever had in my life.”
I leaned toward him. “For you, maybe. But what about her?”
He narrowed his eyes. “The whole thing was hot. She practically begged for it, more than once. I think she liked it.”
I shrugged. “Then I don’t know what to tell you. That girl’s always been a pain in the ass to figure out. Even Kitten’s no help.”
“What do you mean?” Matteo sipped his beer and waited for my response. I’d filled him in a little bit in the past about Dean and Melissa’s history, but he didn’t know much. Hell, none of us really did.
“I asked her once what Melissa’s problem was and she said she didn’t know. That she’s always hooked up with guys and shit, but she never really likes them.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Who’s like that?” Dean spat, his temper finally showing up for the party.
I lifted my beer. “Me.”
“Great,” he said with a snort. “So she’s a female version of you?”
I shrugged. “I’m just saying. It’s sort of a guy’s way of thinking, if you break it down. And that probably works for you since you’re such a chick.”
“Really?” he snarled at me.
Shaking my head, I grinned. “I’m only fucking around, little brother.”
The scantily clad bartender walked over to our table and the three of us immediately shut up. She asked if she could get us anything and I ordered three shots of tequila. Once she walked away, I looked at Matteo’s worried expression and shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“If I drink too much, we’ll need a driver for the driver,” he explained and I laughed.
“Where were we?” I paused and looked at Dean. “Oh yeah. You’re a chick and Melissa’s a dude.”
“It’s not funny. And I’m over it. I’m done. And when we get back to your place, I’m telling her that.” He sounded determined and angry, and it hit me that those feelings were exactly what he needed. My brother needed to take control of his dick back.
“Good,” I told him.
“Yeah?” Dean eyed me, then downed the last of his beer.
I loved Melissa because she was my wife’s best friend, and because she’d been there for me on more than one occasion. But she’d been stringing my brother along since I’ve known her. So yeah, I supported my brother’s decision to tell her to shit or get off the pot.
“You deserve the best and if she’s not going to be that, then fuck her. It’s not like you haven’t given her enough chances to make a decision already. No girl’s worth all this hassle. Except mine. But she’d never pull this kind of shit.”
“And mine,” Matteo added.
“Trina is a good one, bro.” I raised my glass toward him before taking a drink.
“Yeah, yeah. I already know how fucking great both your wives are. Can we get back to me?”
“We never left,” Matteo reassured him.
“So, what do you think? You don’t really know either of us. What’s your take?” Dean lifted his chin in Matteo’s direction. “You know, as an outsider?”
Matteo looked between me and my brother before saying, “I don’t know the whole story between you two, but it sounds like she’s just leading you on. She knows how you feel about her, right?”
“Absolutely,” Dean answered.
“Without a doubt? You’ve told her?” Matteo asked.
Dean’s face scrunched up. “Yes. More than once.”
The bartender appeared and placed our shots on the table. I handed her my credit card and told her to bring us the check, wanting her to leave as soon as possible so we could get to the bottom of this shit with my brother.
“Okay, so what does she say?” Matteo asked, getting us back on track.
“She usually avoids it. But she’ll kiss me to shut me up or say she likes me too, but—”
“But what?” I interrupted.
“She likes me too, but she doesn’t want a boyfriend right now. Or she can’t. Or some other bullshit excuse. I don’t know. It’s all lies. Fuck her. I’m done.”
“I think that’s exactly what she needs.” Matteo stared at my brother and a light bulb went off inside my head.
“Matteo’s right. You have to make sure she knows you’re done.”
“I just said that I would.”
I slapped my hand against his shoulder. “But you have to follow through. She needs to lose you to figure out once and for all what the fuck she wants.”
“This isn’t a game to me, Jack. I’m done. She just wrecked me and I won’t let her do it anymore. She either wants to be with me or she doesn’t. Either way, I’m fucking done waiting around for her to make up her mind.” I watched as he downed his shot.
“Ready to go back home?” I asked.
“You bet.”
The three of us rose to our feet as Matteo pushed his tequila shot toward Dean and he downed it as well. I signed off on our tab with the bartender before we headed out of the darkness and into the bright Manhattan sunlight.
“I need to park the car. Apparently my wife is upstairs with yours,” Matteo said from the driver’s seat. “Do you want me to drop you two off at the entrance and then meet you inside?”
“Don’t be an asshole. We’ll park the car and go in together.”
Dean stayed quiet the elevator ride up to the twenty-third floor and he was the first one off when it came to a stop. I’d never seen him so fired up before. Matteo and I jogged to keep up with him, neither one of us wanting to miss a minute of this show. It was a shitty move, I know, but the idea of seeing my super sweet brother be a dick to someone was fucking exciting.
He walked through the door before any of us and grabbed Melissa by the arm. “We need to talk. Now.”
“Ouch. Jeez, Dean, let me go.”
“No. You want to talk in private or do you want me to say what I have to say right here in front of all these people?” He waved his arm in our direction and I looked at Cassie, who was currently glaring at me.