“Hi, Barry. I’m here to pick up my brother.”

  “Of course.” Barry Augusta was a little older than Charlie, and the two of them had gone climbing together a few times. There was mutual respect between the two of them. “We could’ve arrested him, but when we found out he was your brother we just gave him a warning.”

  “What did he do?” Charlie’s brother did stupid things when he was drunk, but Charlie couldn’t imagine him doing anything malicious. It had to have been something accidental, like falling into a window or passing out on someone’s lawn.

  Officer Augusta came from behind the desk and motioned for Charlie to follow him to the drunk tank. Jason was sitting on a bench and in the cell beside him Pamela was sleeping on the floor, her mouth opened, snoring lightly.

  “I’ll let him tell you the details,” Officer Augusta whispered as he opened the cell. “Jones, you’re free to go.”

  Jason looked up. His hair was sticking out in three different directions and he looked relatively unscathed, just a little more rumpled than the last time Charlie had seen him.

  “Here are the keys to his car.” Officer Augusta plucked the keys from a clipboard and handed them to Charlie. “And Charlie, you need to be careful about overserving…” his voice trailed off.

  “He said he was taking a cab,” Charlie explained but knew he was in the wrong. The officer had no idea how hard it was to cut off someone in a small town where drinking was one of the top three hobbies after skiing and biking.

  “Even so,” Officer Augusta said. “If he got behind the wheel after being overserved, you would be in serious trouble, Charlie.”

  “I know, Barry.” Charlie took the keys. “I didn’t think he was this bad.”

  Jason walked on a slight angle, his upper body lurching ahead of his lower body as if two separate brains were operating his limbs.

  “Just get him home safely.”

  “Will do,” Charlie said. “And thank you.” If it had been one of the older officers, this night could’ve ended a lot differently.

  “Just remember what we talked about.” Officer Augusta took his seat behind the desk.

  “Let’s go.” Charlie grabbed his brother by the back of his shirt and escorted him out of the bright light of the station. “Where’s your rental car?”

  “Ish over there…” Jason slurred and pointed down the main street. “The white one.”

  Charlie wheeled his bicycle with one hand and held his brother up with the other. Charlie was a good bartender, there was no way he would’ve let anyone get into the state his brother was in. He opened the driver’s door and sure enough, an empty bottle of vodka was stuffed in the oversized cupholder in the console. He left Jason leaning against the hood and popped the trunk and set his bike inside. He pulled his brother to the back door, opened it, and shoved him inside. “If you’re going to puke, tell me so that I can stop.”

  A leopard print thong sat rolled up as if someone has pulled it down in a hurry and tossed it into the back seat. He was starting to get a picture of what happened – and while he knew his brother used to be a dog, he was surprised that he hadn’t grown out of the behavior.

  “You’re thirty years old. What the hell are you doing?” Charlie started the rental sedan and headed out of town. When Jason didn’t answer Charlie looked in the rear-view mirror and saw that his brother was already passed out. Jason prided himself on being a bachelor, a single guy who could have fun whenever and wherever he wanted. To Charlie, he just looked sad. Charlie picked up his phone to text Emma to tell her that he was going to be later than anticipated, but as soon as he opened the text app the battery died.

  “Of course,” Charlie muttered and shoved the useless phone into his backpack. He should have been watching a gorgeous woman spreading paint all over her walls. Instead, he was playing chauffeur to someone who should know better.

  “Jason, where are you staying?” he shouted.

  All he received in response was a snore. He pulled the car over, clicked out of the seatbelt, and flailed his arm into the back seat, slapping at his brother. “Bro. Where should I take you?”

  “Bacon and cheese garage,” his brother murmured with his eyes shut.

  Charlie nudged him and repeated the question, but this time he didn’t get an incoherent sentence, he just got an obnoxious snore. He was tempted to dump him on the side of the road but didn’t want him to get arrested again or eaten by a bear. He was still his brother.

  “You asshole.” Charlie shoved the gearshift into drive and headed to his house. The car bottomed out three times before they reached the open field and Jason had been jostled so he was firmly wedged between the back and front seats. The car lurched forward, and Charlie heard a crunching noise, the engine revving as he stepped on the gas. “Shit.” He almost let his head fall to the steering wheel. He got out of the car and saw the front wheel suspended over a deep rut, the bottom of the car stuck. If his brother weren’t comatose, the two of them could’ve probably pushed and rocked it loose, but on his own, in the middle of the night, Charlie just didn’t feel like dealing with it. He took the keys from the ignition, grabbed his backpack, and heaved his bike from the trunk, leaving his brother in the car to sleep it off.

  The spring peepers were calling as he rode his bike through the field. As soon as he got his phone charged, he was going to call Emma and tell her that he wasn’t going to make it to their painting session. He had never been this smitten with a woman, she was everything he had been waiting for – and then some – she was even better. He wondered if she could be the one that let him trust again.

  Once home, he reached to unzip his backpack and realized that it hadn’t been closed. He frantically patted the inside of the canvas bag, his fingers searching for his phone. When they didn’t find it, he emptied the contents onto the dirt road. “Dammit,” he shouted, and his voice echoed off the bluffs down the river.

  He shoved his notebooks and water bottle and everything else that he’d dumped out back into the bag. What else was going to go wrong tonight? he wondered.

  He flopped onto his bed, wishing that he had a photo of Emma, an actual photo. He settled into bed and inhaled the spare pillow, her scent still lingered in the cotton, and a rush of warmth spread through his body. He didn’t need a photograph of Emma. He closed his eyes, and with the vanilla smell in his bed, he could see every freckle on her face, the exact curve of her cheek, and could even hear her laugh. He reached into his boxers. He was hard as a rock and wished for Emma to be in his bed at that moment. He imagined her breasts underneath that cute tank top in the picture she’d sent, paint on her hands, her hair in a messy ponytail, her eyes looking up at him as she wrapped her lips around his cock. He started stroking slowly, just like she had when she had taken him in her mouth in her kitchen. She’s so damn beautiful, he thought to himself as his cock pulsed. He imagined what she’d look like bent over the loft railing, they hadn’t done that yet, and that was all it took. His body tensed and bucked with the imagery and then he fell fast asleep.

  * * *

  “What the hell kind of door is this?”

  Charlie woke up to the clatter of the plywood door sliding and then falling against the kitchen counter. He rolled over and looked at the clock, seven a.m., he’d only gotten to sleep for about four hours. He rubbed his forehead and swung his feet out of bed. He could hear his brother rummaging around in the fridge. He padded to the railing of the loft and looked down. “Hey,” he shouted.

  “Hey,” Jason looked up. “What happened last night?”

  Charlie dressed in a t-shirt and some flannel pajama pants and joined his brother downstairs. “You tell me.”

  Jason rubbed his temple. “Do you have any ibuprofen? I could use about a billion.”

  Charlie filled a glass of water and handed a bottle of Advil to Jason. “What do you remember from last night?”

  “Not much,” he grumbled and chugged the water. He popped four pills and finished the glass.

  Charlie took it from his hand and refilled it. “Have a seat.”

  “Ugh,” Jason groaned and sat down on the condo sized sofa. “Is this where my little brother tells me to smarten up?”

  “Kind of,” Charlie said. “Do you remember being at the police station?”

  “Vaguely.” Jason reclined and rubbed his stomach. “Why did you leave me in the middle of nowhere? The sun came up and it was like a fucking oven in that car.”

  Charlie hadn’t thought about that when he abandoned ship in the middle of the night. “You’re not a dog, you know how to open the doors,” he shrugged. “And I wasn’t carrying you all the way here.”

  Jason shifted on the sofa and then pulled a phone out of his pocket. “I thought that you might want this. It was on the road in front of the car.” He tossed the phone at Charlie.

  “Thanks.” Charlie snatched it out of the air and immediately plugged it in to charge.

  “I’m sorry if I was a dick last night,” Jason said. “I don’t know what happened.”

  Charlie sat down on one of the stools in the kitchen. “I think that you almost got arrested and ruined my career. I could have lost my liquor license last night.”

  “Shit.” Jason shook his head slightly.

  “There was an empty bottle of vodka in the rental car, and someone in Chance Rapids is missing a pink leopard print thong.”

  “Oh no.”

  Charlie could practically see the lightbulb go off over Jason’s head. “Are the pieces falling into place?”

  “Pamela,” he whispered. “She had a mickey of vodka and we went back to the car to drink it.”

  “Did you drive anywhere?” Charlie’s stomach was clenched. He hadn’t realized just how serious the charges could’ve been. And, even worse, his brother could’ve killed someone. Drinking and driving was still a problem in small towns and Chance Rapids was no exception.

  “No, I know better than that. We were just keeping the party going in the car. I swear, Charlie. I wasn’t going to drive anywhere.” He sat up a little taller and sipped the water. “We were just making out a little bit.”

  “Making out?” Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Are we back in high school?”

  Jason laughed and then clutched his stomach as if the act of laughing was too much for his body to handle. “Okay. I was getting a blowie.”

  “Poor Augusta,” Charlie shook his head.

  “Augusta?”

  “The officer who brought you in,” Charlie laughed. “He let you off with a warning.”

  “Gotta love small towns,” Jason smiled. “And a famous brother.”

  “I’m not famous,” Charlie said. “He thought that I overserved you. I could’ve lost my liquor license for the new brewpub if things went bad last night.”

  “Sorry, dude,” Jason said.

  Charlie wasn’t sure if he believed him.

  “What have you got for breakfast?” Jason asked. “I’m starving.”

  Charlie crossed his arms across his chest. “Granola. And some homemade yogurt.” He didn’t move to open the fridge; he knew that his breakfast menu was going to be rejected.

  “Oh, God. That sounds awful. Want to hit up the G-Spot?”

  Charlie stood up and checked his phone, it was almost charged enough to make a call to Emma.

  “Have you got someplace important to be?” Jason tilted his head quizzically. “I’ve never seen you so attached to your phone.”

  Charlie was already halfway up the spiral staircase. “I’m renovating a bar. I have to go to work. We have to get that car unstuck, and you have to go apologize to Officer Augusta.”

  Charlie put on his canvas Carhart work pants, a paint-splattered microbrewery t-shirt, and a flannel shirt. “Let’s go.” He clambered down the stairs in his work boots.

  “Do I have to?” Jason was lying on the small sofa with one of their grandmother’s hand-knit afghans draped over him. “Can’t we order in something?”

  “No.” Charlie pulled the blanket off of him and grabbed the water glass. “Let’s go.”

  “Fine,” Jason grumbled and groaned loudly as he pushed himself to his feet. “I’ve already walked three miles this morning, what’s another three?”

  The two brothers made their way across Charlie’s property and were able to get the car unstuck relatively quickly. If Charlie had put in a bit of effort last night he probably would’ve been able to get it out on his own, but the walk had been good for Jason. As they made their way to the highway, the radio station played country and gave weather updates. The town was in for a heatwave.

  Jason turned down the radio. “Is that wedding planner single?” he asked.

  Charlie laughed. And then laughed some more. “You just got busted with one of the trashiest women in town giving you a BJ on the main street. The whole town is going to know about it before we get to breakfast. There’s no way that the wedding planner would have ANYTHING to do with you after that.”

  “I don’t know how you live here.” Jason shook his head. “Everyone in each other’s business.”

  Charlie squinted into the early morning sunshine. “Say that the next time you’re stuck on the side of the road with a flat tire and half the neighborhood stops to help you change it.”

  “I guess that’s one good thing.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Why aren’t you all over that wedding planner then? You’ve been single for years and that woman is a ten. Not just a Chance Rapids ten, she’s like an L.A. ten.”

  “When are you going to grow up?” Charlie asked. “You left your fraternity almost ten years ago, but you’re still talking like a frat boy.

  “When did you get a stick up your ass?” Jason said.

  Charlie went to turn up the radio, to end the conversation but paused with his finger on the volume button. “I’m not single. In fact, I have to talk to you about bringing a date to the wedding. Do you think it would be okay with Adam?”

  Jason took his phone from the cupholder and typed a text. “I just told him to add a plus one for you.”

  “I know it’s last minute.” Charlie tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He should have checked before he invited Emma. And, he couldn’t wait until he got rid of his brother so that he could call her and speak in private.

  Jason’s phone chimed. “Yep. It’s fine.”

  Charlie breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Were you worried?” Jason’s brow was furrowed. “You know Adam is like a brother to you.”

  “I haven’t seen Adam since high school. I was surprised I was invited to begin with,” Charlie said. “He’s more like a brother to you than to me.” Adam had been their neighbor growing up in Ridgeway, they had played baseball together, built amazing tree forts, and in high school, the three of them had all pooled their money together to buy a car. When Charlie got into music and philosophy, Adam and Jason had gotten into girls, coke, and skipping school. The two of them had gone off to college together and if Charlie were being honest with himself, Jason and Adam were more like brothers. He was the outsider in this equation.

  “Come on, you guys were tight,” Jason said. “Guys don’t need to keep in touch like women. He’ll always be like a brother to you.” Charlie didn’t agree but debating the point with his serotonin deprived brother was pointless.

  It was almost eight o’clock and Charlie needed to get to work. “I can do breakfast, but it’s got to be quick. Do you want to go to the G-Spot or Sugar Peaks Café?”

  “Which one is greasier?”

  The G-Spot was the locals' nickname for the general store housed alongside the only gas station in town. “The G-Spot it is.” Charlie parked the car on the street and the two of them went inside and slid into one of the orange booths.

  “Good morning Charlie.” Mable the owner of the G-Spot also served as its lone waitress. She had been as old as the hills, as the locals say when Charlie moved to Chance Rapids almost fifteen years ago. Her hand shook with a slight tremble as she poured the thick coffee into their cups without even asking if they wanted it.

  “Good morning, Mable,” Charlie smiled. “How’s Amy doing with the new baby?”

  Mable’s eyes lit up. “She’s the best great-grandchild I’ve had so far.” She winked at Jason, “I can say that because she’s my first.”

  Jason smiled at Mable. “How does a woman like you have great-grandchildren, you don’t even look old enough to have grand-kids.”

  Mable laughed and patted Jason’s hand. “You’re too kind.”

  Jason still had some redeeming qualities, even if they were hidden under layers of asshole. Their grandmother had raised the two of them and Jason had a soft spot for little old ladies. “What’s her name?” he asked.

  “Would you believe they named her Mable?” She laughed and pointed to her nametag. “The old fuddy-duddy names are apparently making a comeback.

  “Well, it’s a beautiful name. Congratulations,” Jason smiled. Charlie couldn’t believe the duality in his brother.

  Mable left the table to give them a few minutes to study the menu, a laminated card that sat in a wire holder with jam in the middle of the table. “Maybe there’s some hope for you yet,” Charlie laughed.

  Jason playfully cuffed his brother on the side of the head. “I’m a work in progress. I’m like a fine wine, you know, getting better with age.”

  “You’re no twelve-year-old scotch, dude.” Charlie glanced at the menu but knew what he was ordering. “And, I don’t think that Peach Schnapps gets better with age.” Jason would understand the dig, it was the first thing he stole from their grandmother’s liquor cabinet when they were twelve.

  “Maybe that’s because nobody gives it a chance,” Jason mused as he studied the menu card, then he looked up at Charlie, and his bloodshot eyes suddenly looked alive, “Because it’s so damn delicious the way it is.”

  “You’re going to have to grow up someday Jay. Maybe someday you’ll want a woman who appreciates a twelve-year-old scotch and you’ll realize how much better it tastes than schnapps.”

  Charlie looked at his brother with a smile on his face, but Jason wasn’t smiling. Charlie had never seen his brother cry, but he swore the corners of his eyes were shimmering with tears. “Hey man, I’m sorry. You know I’m just playing with you.”