I wake late. So fucking late that all I have time for is to throw on some jeans and a T-shirt, whack on a little aftershave and a pair of shoes, and grab my luggage, wallet, and keys. In five minutes flat, I’m ready. I pull back the front door, but there’s a hobo on my stoop.

“Brother!” the exclamation of one emo rocker forces me to shake my head.

“Oh no. Hell no,” I say, as my little brother Jasper engulfs me in a hug. I can only look on in disbelief as he grabs his guitar, and a duffle bag that likely contains all of his worldly possessions. He shoves past me into my apartment.

“No? I haven’t seen you since I moved back to New York, and all I get is a no?”

“Fine. When did you move back to New York?”

“Yesterday.” He shrugs. “I went to a friend’s gig, and then had a sleepover with a blond, green-eyed beauty. You would have loved her.”

I doubt that. My brother and I have very different tastes in women, though the mention of green eyes has me thinking of Poppy’s enraged jade gaze. “Nice to see your priorities are in order.”

“So, where are you going?”

“Vegas.”

“Sweet. Spot me the dollars for a hotel and I’ll come. The old man can take care of my airfare.”

“No can do, little brother. It’s a bachelor weekend.”

“Even fucking better. Who are we unleashing on the ladies of Vegas?”

“Chase.”

Jasper makes a face and glances around my apartment.

“You’re not coming though.”

“Oh, come on. I can be your wingman?”

“I don’t need a wingman. I get pussy just fine without it.”

“Really? Even though you’re kind of old now?”

“I am not old. I’m in my sexual fucking prime.”

He makes a show of inspecting my hair. “I see a few greys there.”

“You’re staying here. I’m not buying you a ticket at the gate, and there isn’t time to organize a seat from the office. Besides, if we did that dear old Dad would know you’re in town, and if I know you, Jas, you want to avoid seeing him as long as possible.” I smirk as he grimaces. “Just try not to fuck up my apartment while I’m gone. And start looking for a job.”

“I have a job. I play music.”

“You look like a fucking bum. Get your shit together.”

“What, and come and work for you and Dad? No thanks.”

“You know maybe if you took that position Dad’s been offering you the last eight years, you could afford a place of your own.”

“And have a mortgage, and monthly car payments? Where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, you could bring pussy back to your own pad instead of using mine.”

“Nah, I like yours just fine. So, who’s going on the thing?”

“Right now, Chase and I, and the other groomsman. You don’t know them.” I wait a beat before telling him the whole truth. “Claire and her bridesmaids, too. Oh, and Poppy.”

Jasper does a double take. “Pop Tart? Get the fuck out. Is she still?” He gestures to his chest and mock jiggles his boobs.

“Yeah, she’s still got a great rack.” I grin, thinking about her lush tits and how I’d like to slide my cock between them.

What the fuck? Where the hell did that come from?

“Still got that stick up her ass, too.” I say, just to remind myself not to think about fucking her. Fucking that woman, becoming involved with her in any way? I may as well hand my balls over now so she could make a silk purse.

“I’d still do her.”

Unease settles in my gut at the thought, but I push it aside. “Come on, Jas. Pop Tart wouldn’t date a guy like you in a million years.”

“Who said anything about dating? I just wanna bend her over the back of the couch and show her how grown up Jas really is now.”

I can’t help it. I’m moving before I even know why, and when I smack him upside the head, he glares at me as if I’ve just drowned a kitten in his presence.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

“Don’t talk about women that way, jackass.”

“Women, or Pop Tart, specifically?” He stares at me a beat too long, and a smirk tips the side of his mouth. “You sly fucking dog. You’ve already hit that.”

“What? Fuck no. you’d probably have to pry open her legs with a crow bar.”

Jasper grins. With teeth. It’s fucking terrifying. “You wanna bone the Pop Tart.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” I say, checking my wristwatch.

“What’s Chase gonna say about you sticking it to his ex?”

“Fuck Chase. He left her, remember? And I’m not now, nor have I ever wanted to stick it to Poppy Porter.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you’re in luck because it’s not like she’d go for you anyway.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means she’s too smart to screw a man whore like you. Me, on the other hand?”

“Fifty bucks says I have her naked beneath me before the wedding.”

Jas laughs. “A hundred says you don’t.”

“Yeah, like you even have a hundred dollars to lay down.”

“Oh, I’ll have it. In fact, let’s make this a real wager. If you get Poppy Porter naked and beneath you by the time the wedding is over, I’ll say yes to Dad’s proposal. If you don’t, I get your apartment.”

“I don’t really see what I gain out of this. How ’bout if I win you give up your axe, work for Dad for one year, and quit using my apartment like a hostel every time you and your Muso bum friends decide to grace New York with your presence. If I lose, I give you my damn apartment.”

“On second thoughts, I don’t know if I can do it, man. That soul-crushing career powerhouse was always your schtick. I’d go crazy in corporate America.”

“Are you scared because you know I’m going to win?”

He makes a pffting sound. “No. I know you have no problems getting pussy, brother. But this is premium A-grade Upper East Side pussy. No way in a million years is she going to give it up to you.”

“We’ll just see, won’t we?” I offer my hand, and Jasper shakes it. “I gotta go. Don’t mess up my damn apartment while I’m gone. And no fucking parties. I don’t want your skeezy friends here stealing my shit.”

“I think you mean my apartment,” Jas says.

“No, I mean mine. And I’m not kidding. You fuck my shit up again and I’ll gut you in your sleep.”

“Love you too, brother.”

I grunt and head through the door. Fuck me dead. What did I just get myself into?