Flirting with the Frenemy (Bro Code #1)(16)

“Christ on a butter knife, you jackass. Who asks that?”

“Wyatt. You’re my bro. You think we’d be friends if I didn’t think you were good enough for my sister? Nah, man. I’ve seen how you two look at each other. Far be it from me to interfere.”

I’m momentarily speechless, because I didn’t think that was how the bro code worked. And Beck and a few other guys we grew up with made a name for themselves as the band Bro Code for a lot of years.

So don’t tell me the bro code isn’t important to him.

It’s everything.

He’s gotta be fucking with me, so I go with the easy response. “She looks at me like she’d like to slice out my kidneys and roast them over a campfire.”

“Young love, man. Young love is beautiful.”

“Ryder.”

“Dude. It ever occur to you that maybe it would mean a lot to me if one of my best buddies could finally just suck it up and get along with my sister? Is that too much to ask?”

I briefly consider Levi or Davis or one of the Rivers brothers asking Ellie on a date, and I decide it doesn’t matter that they, too, are like brothers to me, I’d smash all their faces in.

“What the fuck’s actually going on?” I ask.

I wash six glasses while I wait for him to answer, and when he finally does, I wish I hadn’t asked.

“You know that accident Ellie was in?”

The pit of my stomach drops just like it did when I got his text the day after I fucked up. “We all know about Ellie’s accident, man.”

“She’s been…reserved since then.”

“She wasn’t fucking reserved when she punched me for trying to save her from drowning and then dunked me in the tub,” I say dryly.

“Really? That’s great!”

I swipe a hand over my face, because I’m getting annoyed. Beck’s always lived in his own world, but this is extreme, even for him. “She dropped her phone in the tub, so it might be a while before she calls to bitch you out.”

“Even better,” he says cheerfully.

“Push comes to shove, she tells me to leave, you know I’m gone.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold up.” Beck’s suddenly serious as banana pudding, which is pretty fucking serious in these parts. “Okay, okay. Yes, I knew Ellie was going to be there. That’s why I kept talking up the pirate festival for Tucker. She…needs you.”

“Your sister. Eleanor I can do it myself Ryder. She needs me.”

“Wyatt. She doesn’t know it, but yeah, she needs you. She’s just—she hasn’t been herself since the accident. And that prick Patrick dumping her right at the holidays for his neighbor—she’s always had this life plan, you know? Finish school, take over for Mom and Dad, get married, have three kids, live happily ever after. But it’s all…I mean, work’s good. It’s about all she does anymore. I told you she qualified to run the New York City Marathon this year, didn’t I? Qualified back before the accident. Now she can’t do it. She’s just…it’s like she’s giving up. She puts on the show, but she doesn’t talk about her plans anymore like she used to.”

I grunt, because yeah, Ellie was always making plans. When I’m in high school, I’m going to be on the soccer team. When I’m in college, I’m going to make the Dean’s list. When I go to work for Mom and Dad, I’m going to convince City Hall to hire us to make the building green. When I get married, I’m going to have two-point-four kids and a dog and a parakeet named Sue.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Beck says. “And the thing is…you irritate the shit out of her. So maybe…I don’t know. Just give her something normal. Annoy her until she starts planning on annoying you back. And I know she’s there at that wedding with her dickweed ex too. Drop-kick him for me a couple times, would you?”

I drop a clean plate into the drying rack before it registers that Ellie hasn’t been cleaning her own dishes.

Ellie doesn’t leave messes. She’s too type A for that.

Something is wrong. “You know there’s something really fucked up about asking me to irritate your sister.”

“I wouldn’t trust another soul for this job. Because I know you won’t hurt her. Irritate the fuck out of her, yeah. But hurt her? Not you, man.”

Fucking damn it.

I already did that, didn’t I?

“Are you serious?”

“Everyone’s treating her with kid gloves. She needs to know she can still do stuff.”

“She’s down in town in high heel pirate boots. I think she knows she can still do stuff.”

“Yeah, and I’m just a dumbass egomaniac who models underwear.”

Right. The Ryders know how to put on a face for the world. Doesn’t mean that’s the real story.

“I’m not going to try to pick fights with your sister to make her feel better.” Especially not when she’s just told the bride that I’m her fucking boyfriend.

Which I’m still in denial about, because I’m not spending this week confusing my kid.

But I don’t like how her ex was looking at her.

I don’t want to let him think she’s easy pickings right now either.