“Who elected you camp counselor?”
“Be straight with me, Sawyer. What’s going on?”
“She wanted a date,” he said.
“This was a problem?”
“She wanted a date on a yacht.”
Ethan frowned. “You’ve been like this for two days because she wanted to go on a yacht?”
“She didn’t want to go with me,” he said, conveniently leaving out the part where he didn’t do boats. It wasn’t as if Ethan didn’t know, but Sawyer wasn’t in the mood to be called out on that. “She wanted some picket-fence type who was ready to settle down.”
“So she broke up with you?”
“There was no breaking up. There was no together. It was me teaching her how to be irresistible to men.”
“Looks like you accomplished that.”
“Jesus Christ. No one asked you.”
“You don’t need to ask me. I’m dealing with your shit all day at work, so I’ve earned my right to an opinion.”
“All due respect, you’ve had one girlfriend your entire life, and it was perfect from day one. I’m so goddamned sorry you lost her. You have no idea. But you don’t know anything about what’s going on here. You’ve never had to fight a day in your life to make a woman believe you fucking loved her.”
Ethan’s brow cocked. “Are we talking about me or you?”
Sawyer glared. It didn’t send his brother from the room like he hoped. Finally he relented. “I don’t do relationships. I fuck, and I move on. That’s my life.”
“I’ve noticed,” Ethan said dryly. “I think we all have.”
“It’s not complicated that way. I hate complications.”
Ethan’s mouth twisted. “And Kelsie is a complication?”
“I don’t hate Kelsie,” he said, not really answering the question.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“She thinks I used her for sex.”
“And you didn’t?” Ethan scoffed.
“Fuck you.”
“God, you’re dense. Did you ever once say or do anything to make her think you wanted more than sex?”
Sawyer met his brother’s accusing eyes. “I did more than sleep with her. Does that count?”
“Does she know?”
Sawyer shook his head. “No, she doesn’t know. Because I can’t do it, Ethan. I can’t do it.”
“You can’t do what?”
“I can’t fucking become you.”
Ethan actually took a step back, and the apartment seemed to echo with the aftermath of the words.
“What,” Ethan asked tersely, “is so wrong with me?”
Sawyer threw out his hands and immediately thought of Kelsie. God, it was contagious. “You tell me,” he said to his brother. “Tell any of us. You’re not alive, man. You’re just…there. You exist, and we’re all thankful we have that much, but you jumped in the goddamned hole after Amy. And for what?”
By then, Ethan had his back turned. Quietly, he said, “You don’t love someone like that and forget.”
“No one is asking you to forget but think. You love hard, brother. Don’t you believe you should share that with someone else? Christ. Even Grady has signed up for some online-dating shit.”
Ethan turned around. “Yeah, well, Grady likes computers more than I do. And you’re one to talk. Has it ever occurred to you that you might have more to offer a woman than sex? As a matter of fact, maybe that’s your fucking problem. Maybe you just see women as a receptacle for your dick.” Ethan shot him a dark look. “Respect. Look it up.”
“I respect Kelsie,” Sawyer said. “Might have been the first time I ever went out with a girl and didn’t have sex with her on the first date. Or the second. And I’ve never even been on a third date, but we didn’t have sex then. Nope. Made it all the way to the fourth date—the fucking opera—before I even touched her there. So don’t tell me I don’t respect her, because I’ve never respected anyone more.”
Ethan gave a nod of approval in response to Sawyer’s babbling. “Good for you,” Ethan said. “Now does she know that?”
“What difference does it make? She’s done.” To Ethan’s raised brow, he added, “She asked me to leave, and she was probably right. I’m not that guy she wants.”
“I think you’re missing the point, brother.”
“Which is?”
“Whether you want to be the guy she wants.”
“I’m not.” When Ethan’s brow furrowed, Sawyer caved and told him the rest. “There’s a boat. I’m too afraid to go on the goddamned boat for her. If I can’t do that, how could I ever handle the big shit? The living.” He paused. “The dying.”
“Fuck, you’re morbid. It’s not that hard, Sawyer. You live, and you’re glad for every day you have. And you die, and you hope you lived hard enough to make someone