Limitless - Kate Hawthorne Page 0,1
as I figure it out.”
Andy finished the rest of his wine and stood up. He took the glass to the sink and the bottle to the trash can. He rinsed the glass and washed it, then scraped the leftovers of Brad’s casserole into a Tupperware and washed that dish too.
“I need to talk to you about this casserole,” he said, scraping gooey noodles off of a serving spoon with his fingernail.
“It was bad,” Brad said.
“It was bad.”
“I won’t use the recipe again.”
“That was a recipe?” Andy looked over his shoulder and smirked. “It tasted like you just dumped a bunch of stuff from your pantry into a dish and put it in the oven.”
“Point made.” Brad joined him at the sink and dropped his coffee mug into the basin. He snapped the lid onto the Tupperware and took it back to the table.
“And you?” Andy asked, turning off the water and coming back to the table.
He watched Brad gathering up his things, his keys and his phone, and piling it all into the freshly washed casserole dish. He set the glass lid down and held the container in both hands.
“What about me?”
“You’re really moving to Cherry Creek?”
“There’s not much for me here.” Brad gave him a sad smile and shrugged. “It’ll be nice to be somewhere new.”
“I agree with the last part.” He walked with Brad toward the door. “Are you going to tell them you saw me?”
“If Charlie asks, I’m not going to lie.”
“Is he still mad?”
“He’s not mad,” Brad corrected. “He’s never been mad about it. He’s hurt. Hell, I was hurt.”
Andy pulled his brother into a hug, the glass dish pressing awkwardly into his ribs, but he didn’t let go. Brad softened against him and exhaled quietly.
“This is something I need to do. For me.”
“I get it,” Brad mumbled against his chest before shrugging out of the hug.
“I’ll keep in touch,” Andy promised. “I’ll send postcards.”
“Are you coming to dinner tomorrow?”
Andy scratched his chin. “I don’t know.”
“You should.”
“Charlie’s not mad?” he asked.
“Cameron’s mad.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, and Brad smiled.
Cameron was the youngest, the most spoiled, the most entitled, and he was also insistent that they all gathered together every Sunday for dinner. Andy had avoided it because of how upset everyone had been at the reading of their father’s will, but he knew he couldn’t dodge it for long, and he definitely couldn’t just pack up and take off around the world without seeing his brothers again.
“I’ll tell Charlie to set a place for you.” Brad opened the door and slipped out without another word.
Andy closed the door and locked it, turning around and facing his living room. There wasn’t a difference between what it looked like before Todd left and now, he noticed, and he wondered if that had been his own doing.
He wouldn’t say he was controlling, but he knew how he liked things to be, how he liked things to look…how he liked things to feel. He didn’t get any of those things with Todd, so he’d settled for companionship and a hard dick to fuck when he wanted it… but Andy wanted more.
He went into his bedroom and pulled open the top drawer of his dresser. Shoving a hand beneath the pile of underwear, he grabbed his map and unfolded it on the bed. He undressed except for his briefs, then sat down near his pillows. There was a pen on his nightstand, and he clicked the ballpoint out and studied the colorful shapes in front of him. He knew he wanted to go to Paris, but he didn’t want to start there. He had high hopes for the City of Lights and he wanted to save it for last.
Andy circled Indonesia, and Hawaii, Prague, Amsterdam, and Egypt. He connected all his dreams with a shaky line, then made a list that spanned west to east and booked his first flight. He probably could have taken the entire trip on frequent flier miles, but he used them for upgrades instead.
He folded up the map and set it on his nightstand, then kicked down the sheets so he could situate himself on his large—and now empty—bed. He wasn’t ready to go to sleep, but he didn’t want to watch TV, didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want…
He didn’t even know.
Andy rolled onto his stomach and buried his face into his pillow, letting out a muffled shout of frustration. How had he lived an entire life that wasn’t even for him? He’d been miserable at