Fragile Lives: A small-town, age-gap, brother’s best friend romance (Little Hope series Book 4)
Fragile Lives: Epilogue

Two months later

All I want is to go home to Leila and bury my face between her legs, but Kenneth is having some sort of midlife crisis, so I’ll be a good friend and get him drunk in a bar.

We didn’t take a car because we didn’t plan on coming home sober. Yeah, I can drink without getting shitfaced. Well, I’m going to get shitfaced, but it’s for a good cause.

For half of my life, I thought of myself as a highly functioning alcoholic. Maybe I still am, but when all the guilt was finally taken away, I was left with this intense desire to live I wasn’t familiar with. Then I got life with the very person who is the literal center of my universe, and it turned out that life isn’t so bad, and I don’t need alcohol to get me through every day.

To be absolutely honest, I still feel guilt, just not to that extent anymore. And maybe it’s a different sort of guilt—a survivor’s guilt. I came back but they didn’t. I just know that it might not be because of me anymore. My life is lighter, my head is brighter.

Do I have those thoughts now? I do. Not much anymore, but I do. I don’t think I want to act on them, but it’s hard to change your way of thinking after years of living in the same circle of hell. But now I have my Leila and a mean therapist—excuse me, a person. That’s what they call themselves at Freya’s PTSD center.

After years of self-loathing and drinking myself to death, I finally decided to climb out of my hole. I just need to get my body on board with that. Years of abusing it didn’t do me any good, and besides therapy, I also went on some sort of super healthy diet, and Leila’s been watching me like a hawk the whole time.

Knowing that there probably won’t be many options taxi-wise, I asked my woman to pick us up later that night.

It’s closing on nine, and we’re going with the plan of getting hammered.

“I dunno, man,” Kenneth says, leaning his chin on his fist. “Just something, I dunno, is missing.”

His speech is slurred. We’ve drunk the same amount of alcohol, but over the years, I’ve built up a tolerance—my brain is foggy now, but I can think.

“You need a change.” I snap my fingers.

“A change?” He raises a brow. “What type of change?”

“I’ve got an idea.” I try to smile as innocently as I can. He’ll definitely kill me later, but he’ll thank me at some point.

To my utter surprise, we manage to grab a cab, and ten minutes later, we arrive at TJ’s place. He’s Kayla’s ex-boss and was the first one to discover her talent. We chat from time to time, and I’m thinking of buying his place since he wants to retire in Florida. I called him from the bar and asked if I could use his parlor for something for my friend. TJ lives in the same building as his shop, so he said he’d open it for me when we get there.

As we stumble out of the car, TJ is already unlocking the shop.

“Where are we?” Kenneth looks around suspiciously.

“We’re helping you to take the first step into your new future,” I smack his shoulder, “my friend. Let’s go.”

He looks at the parlor’s sign and narrows his eyes. “I don’t know about this.”

“Oh, you’ll love it. C’mon.” I push him inside where TJ is pulling a bottle out from under the receptionist’s table.

“I guess you’ll need this if you’re about to do what you told me.”

“What is that?” Kenneth nervously looks between me and TJ.

“A piercing.” I smile evilly.

“No-o-o.” He begins shaking his raised hands. “I can’t walk around Little Hope with a ring in my ear.”

“Don’t worry,” I smile, “the ring won’t be in your ear.”

“Where will it be?” Once again, he looks between us for answers, and on cue TJ and I both look down at his crotch. “What? No!” He covers it with his hands, his voice higher.

“I promise you, your life will be changed forever after this,” I announce, dead set on convincing him to change something in his uptight life.

“Yeah, when my dick falls off, I bet it will.” He starts backing toward the door, sobering up every second.

“It feels real good,” TJ chimes in while he pours whiskey into three plastic cups.

Kenneth pauses for a moment. “You’ve got one?”

“Yep,” he downs his glass, “and my wife loves it.”

I quirk a brow, surprised at this piece of information. Not surprised that he has one because TJ is a badass, but surprised he decided to share—the man seems tight-lipped.

“Alright, good for you.” Kenneth slowly walks back, “I’m not doing it, but I’d love to hear a story. Or two.”

I exchange looks with TJ while we both barely contain our laughter, and he pushes the full cup toward Kenneth. “Sure, I’ve got a few.”

Thirty minutes later, we’re shitfaced. Myself included. But not TJ—that man has the tolerance of a horse.

“So, what do you think?” he asks Kenneth. “Want to change your life for the best?”

“Ya know what?” Kenneth smacks his open palm on the table. “I do.”

I pause, the cup midair. “Really?”

“Pff, yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “I could use a change, ya know.”

I know, because I’ve seen Kenneth getting stuck in that circle of hell where only good boys go.

“Let’s do it.” He smacks his palm again, knocking my cup off. “But you won’t do it,” he tells me and then points his wavering finger at TJ. “You, though, look sober enough for it. I don’t want to end up with holes in my balls if he touches it.” He waves his hand at me dismissively, making me chuckle. I’ve never done a piercing wrong, but I’ve also never done one while intoxicated like this.

“Deal.” TJ’s turn to smack the table.

What the hell is wrong with people constantly smacking everything? Don’t they know how to deal with emotions another way?

TJ hurries to the back of the parlor to collect the needed supplies, clearly in a rush so Ken wouldn’t change his mind.

“Ya know, my mother likes to throw her proper friends’ daughters at me in hope that I’ll finally settle.” He chuckles and rubs his hands together with an evil look on his face. “I bet they’d be surprised to replace ma dick pierced.”

“They sure will.” I smile but feel bad for him. He doesn’t have my demons, but he has his own. The oldest of the family, he was born to be the good one and to take care of everyone else. People forget that sometimes, even the oldest kid needs to be taken care of too.

TJ comes back and preps the table. Then he pats it. “Hop on it and pull your pants down.”

“With pleasure.” He laughs at his innuendo and follows TJ’s instructions. “You’ve got some painkillers?”

“Sure we do, boy.” TJ grabs the bottle and passes it to him. “That’s your pain medicine.”

Kenneth chuckles and takes a generous sip. It’s the second bottle TJ produced from under the table, and I wonder how many more he has in there. Then he puts his gloves on and preps…the area.

“Ouch, it’s cold.”

I roll my lips trying not to smile—if he’s complaining now, he sure won’t like what’s to follow.

When the needle pierces his skin, he cries out and grabs my hand, squeezing it hard.

“Don’t be a pussy,” TJ says as he tries to pull the wand through. I’m not allowed to say anything, but TJ sure as fuck can laugh at him. At this point, I’m super tipsy, and the situation seems very comical to me. Knowing Kenneth, he’ll come to kill me tomorrow. I can’t wait.

At TJ’s words, Kenneth starts cursing. “Ya didn’t tell me the shit’s so painful.”

“It’s your dick,” TJ deadpans, cleaning the area. “What did you expect?”

“I dunno.” Kenneth shrugs while still squeezing my hand. “Not that for sure.”

I bite the inside of my cheek the whole time TJ gives Kenneth care instructions, knowing I’ll have to make sure he looks at them tomorrow, sober. Once we’re all done, I call Leila and tell her the address of where to pick us up. She’s running errands in Springfield, so it’ll only take her about ten minutes to come pick us up.

I’m having a strong case of déjà vu, but this time around, I’m allowed to openly lust after my woman, not scared that her brother might deem me unfit. In fact, his approval means a lot to me. More than I expected. I guess I really like being accepted into a big family, and gaining not only my future wife, but brothers.

We chat as we wait for Leila, and at some point, Kenneth asks the question I was waiting for.

“So, what about you?” He nods toward me.

“What about me?” I smile sweetly, playing dumb.

“Do you like yours?” He nods at my crotch.

And here’s the moment I’ve been waiting for. “I don’t have one.” And my face stretches into the widest smile.

TJ laughs but tries to hide it with a cough.

“You motherfucker!” Ken yells in something close to a falsetto, and TJ and I can’t hold it anymore and start laughing.

Ken lunges for me and punches me in the shoulder, nearly knocking us both down on the floor in our drunkenness. But I’m saved by the bell. Well, a phone call. My device starts beeping, and then I see Leila’s car parked outside. When she notices me watching her, she gives me the most brilliant smile and waves. I go all sappy when I see her like that and lose focus, so I get punched again, and this time it hurts. Well, I deserved that one.

“Stop, stop!” I raise my hand in front of me in defense. “You don’t want to punch this pretty face; it needs to give you cute nieces and nephews!” It’s the first time I’ve thought of kids, but once I do, it’s all I can see. Leila with a belly full of my babies, in our house we’re building. A big family of happy people who don’t treat each other like shit and constantly put each other down. I’ll raise them well and I’ll be a good husband. I know I can.

“A punch in the face won’t ruin your genetics, idiot.” Then he pauses midair. “Wait a minute. Are you pregnant? I mean…” He nervously looks between me and Leila’s car outside. “Is she pregnant.”

“Nah, relax. She’s too young for that. But it’s in the plans.” Then I level him with a stare. “And I’m not asking your permission.”

He snorts. “So defensive. But if you did,” he turns to stare me down, “need my permission, I wouldn’t object.”

I nod with a secretly happy heart, keeping my face level. I wave at TJ, who’s watching our bickering with a cup next to his mouth. “Thanks, man.”

“Anytime.” He laughs and adds, “And that deal we talked about? Send me your proposal. I want my place to be in good hands.”

I don’t show him my surprise since he’s been sending me around the block every time I bring up this topic. “I will.” I wave, and we walk outside.

TJ accepting my offer to buy his place means more than anyone knows. I’ve always wanted to build a work environment where people felt like they came home to, and TJ managed to do just that. This parlor is his life, and him saying that he wants to sell means that he sees the same potential in me and he trusts me not to let him down. I don’t know what he just saw, but he did. And I refuse to overthink any of it. I’m just going to accept it.

When we sit in the car—I’m in the passenger seat and Ken is in the back—I pull Leila to me and my mouth lands on hers in a hot kiss. I haven’t seen her in a few hours, and I’ve missed her. I want to pull her pants down and move her to my lap so we can…

“Staaaahp it, my eyes!” Kenneth complains from the back seat, and I remember that we’re not alone.

Leila pulls away, her cheeks red, and her lips swollen. She pointedly looks between me, Kenneth, and the parlor. “Do I want to know?” she asks.

“No,” we answer in unison, and she shifts the car into gear.

“Alright then.”

A few minutes later, Kenneth is snoring away, and I enjoy the quiet moments with my woman.

“Marry me,” I say out of nowhere.

“What?” Her head whips toward me for a moment. “Let’s talk about that when you’re not drunk to tears.”

“I might be drunk, but the decision has been made a long time ago when I was very sober.” I dig into my pocket on the inside of my winter coat she makes me wear and pulls out a black velvet box. “Pull over.”

“Stephan—” She gives me a wide-eyed stare.

“Pull to the side, please.”

She gives me another look but pulls to the curb. Once she’s parked, I click the button on the box and show it to her. When she recognizes the ring, her mouth falls open.

“Stephan,” she whispers.

She saw this ring in the window while we were walking to get my favorite coffee when she came to Boston the first time. She subtly looked at it, but I knew she loved it. It’s just like her—unique and beautiful. It’s not flashy, but very classy. It’s made of white gold with three emeralds, the center one being the largest, with a few tiny diamonds around them. If it was up to me, I’d get her the biggest fucking diamond I could replace, and she would be walking around with that rock on her finger to let everyone know she’s mine. But it would be that—just a rock. And this ring is so her.

“Stephan,” she repeats quieter, and my heart begins sinking.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Did I misread the signs? Fuck! How can I change her opinion now?

I look to the back seat, wishing Kenneth would disappear so I could pull her pants down and start convincing her to change her mind, but he keeps snoring away, oblivious to my turmoil.

“You don’t like it?” I brave a question, and her eyes well. “Fuck, you don’t want to marry me.” My happiness deflates in an instant.

“No, you idiot!” she cries out and punches me in the shoulder. She’s about the only person I can tolerate it from.

But that’s it. She told me she doesn’t want to marry me and that I’m an idiot for even entertaining the idea. She’s always felt my mood swings, so she must have sensed this one as well, because her eyes go round, and she starts talking rapidly.

“No!” She rolls her eyes. “You’re really an idiot! Of course, I want to marry you!”

“Then I don’t understand…” I blink, trying to figure out what just happened. “Why are you crying?”

“Because you’ve waited so long!” She throws her hands in the air. “You’ve had this ring for what? A whole three months?”

The understanding finally dawns on me, and a wide smile stretches across my lips. My woman is angry that I waited a whole three months to propose. I think we’ll get along just fine.

“So, is that a yes?” I give her that lopsided smile I know she likes, and she instantly turns to goo. The apples of her cheeks pinken, and she smiles shyly.

“It’s a yes.”

“Fucking yes!” I cry out and pull her in for another kiss.

“Not again.” A loud groan from the back seat once again reminds me that we have an audience.

I pull away from the kiss and give him the stink eye. He flips me off and buries his face into the collar of his wool sweater. “Just get me home before you eat each other’s faces again.”

He’s going to be my official brother soon, so I turn back and flip him the bird, making sure he sees it. He rolls his eyes and looks outside. The corners of his eyes wrinkle in an attempt to hide a smile.

I have a family now. A big and instant one. I’m a lucky bastard.