Ben checked his GPS and then pulled into the driveway of David’s house. Taking in the large brick facade, Ben felt a pang in his chest at the fact that he’d never been there before. What grown-ass brothers have never been to each other’s homes? It reeked of the kind of immaturity Ben hoped they could bury for good, but he figured they had only about a fifty-fifty chance at being successful. Not the best odds, but Ben was willing to gamble on it anyway.

He was glad he’d remembered David mentioning how long their honeymoon was or he’d have shown up while they were still away. He parked and gave himself a little pep talk before getting out of the car and walking toward the house. He’d arrived at the steps leading up to the front when the door swung open. Ben’s head jerked up in surprise, and he saw Natasha standing there.

She didn’t look particularly happy to see him, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. After a few tense moments, she stepped back and held the door open for him.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Ben bounded up the steps and into their home.

“He’s out back,” Natasha said as she shut the door behind him. Then she led him through their house, which was more modern than Ben would’ve thought his brother would go for. They arrived at patio doors, which Natasha pulled open before nodding her head toward the yard where David was fixing a fence.

Ben said a quiet “thanks” as he stepped outside and slowly approached his brother. David must have seen movement, because he turned briefly to look at Ben, but quickly turned back to the task at hand. Not the welcome he’d hoped for, but it was the one he’d pretty much expected. He stood there for a second, trying to figure out how to begin. “What are you doing?” was evidently the best he could come up with.

“Fixing a fence,” David replied coolly.

“Why?”

“Because it’s broken.”

This is going well. “I didn’t know you knew how to . . . mend fences.” And oh, how appropriate those words are.

Ben wondered if David had the same thought, because his movements stuttered for a second. “I know how to do lots of things that might surprise you,” he replied, his tone low but without any anger or annoyance.

“Like what?” Ben asked.

David stood and wiped his brow with the back of his arm. “What are you doing here, Ben?”

“Well, I didn’t want to say this because I don’t want you to pass out from the shock, but I’ve been thinking about some things and decided . . . you were right.”

David turned his head to look at Ben. “What’s supposed to shock me more: the fact that you were thinking or that you’re saying I was right?” His lips quirked slightly, and the sight made Ben relax. They used to joke like this all the time. Before.

“Both, I guess.”

David stooped down to pick up some tools before straightening up again and continuing to mess with the fence. “What was I right about this time?”

Ben laughed. Smug prick. But for once, the insulting thought was almost affectionate. It was as though Ben’s making this first step had loosened something between them. It had bridged a gap and allowed them to slip back into roles that were somehow still familiar despite not having been filled for many years. Sobering, Ben kicked at the grass for a second. “I don’t want to run anymore.”

David’s shoulders hitched up at the words before gradually relaxing. He turned fully to look at Ben. “I don’t know that I can really blame you for running when I’m constantly chasing you away.”

Ben hadn’t known how much he’d needed David to take some responsibility for what had happened between them until that moment. Granted, he knew he wanted to hear it. But he hadn’t let himself examine the depth of his need for the words. “Well, maybe we can both work on not being assholes.”

“Yeah. Maybe we can.”

They stood there in silence for a moment. Ben knew more needed to be said, but he wasn’t sure who needed to say it or what exactly it was.

Thankfully, David seemed to know. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a shitty big brother.” His words were strong and clear, and the way David’s eyes grew wet let Ben know how sincere he was.

Tears pricked at Ben’s eyes too as he stepped toward David and was met halfway. They hugged, and for Ben it was like being transformed back into the kid who needed his big brother to protect him from the monsters under his bed. “I’m sorry for . . .” Ben wasn’t sure how to finish his sentence. “Being shitty,” he settled on.

David laughed before thumping Ben on the back a couple times and pulling back. He dashed at his eyes with his hand.

“I made cookies,” they heard a voice yell. They both turned to see Natasha standing on the patio. “Since no one’s hit the other yet, I figured I’d let you have some.”

The guys laughed and called a “thanks” to her before walking over and settling down at the table.

“We should probably talk,” David said.

Ben thought for a moment before speaking. “Do we need to?” he asked. Because what good would rehashing it all do? They knew where the other was coming from. Sometimes people had to choose to move on.

They locked eyes for a minute before David said, “No, I guess we don’t.”

So they talked about random things instead—catching up on ten years of silence. To Ben, it felt like they were making up after a break-up, which in a way, he guessed they were. But it made him think of Ryan, and despite all he had to be happy about, he found his mood flagging a bit.

Whether David had picked up on the change in Ben or had just been curious, he asked about Ryan.

Ben rubbed his hands over his face. “Jesus, man, I fucked that up so badly.”

“Well, yeah, I can imagine you didn’t mean to shout out that you’d hired an escort.”

Ben let out a mirthless laugh. “That’s not even the part I fucked up. She wasn’t actually an escort. And she was . . . She was important to me. Really important. And I made her feel like she was nothing.”

“Oh. Then yeah, you definitely fucked up.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” David asked him.

“What can I do? She shut me out. I need to accept it I guess.”

“Come on. You came here to fix a fight that was ten years old. You can’t fix something that happened less than two weeks ago?”

“I don’t know, man.” Ben rubbed a hand over his head. “She’s made it pretty clear she doesn’t want anything to do with me. She even left the check I gave her behind.”

David nearly spit out the iced tea he’d been drinking. “You tried to pay her after that?”

“What the hell was I supposed to do? She was owed it, and I wanted to make sure she had it.”

“I don’t know. That seems . . . cold. Like, ‘Hey, I just told my whole family you’re an escort, now let me pay you on their front lawn.’”

Ben let out a curse under his breath. “Well, when you put it like that.”

“Why were you carrying the check around anyway?”

“Because I thought it’d be romantic to give it to her when we left and say that whatever happened from there was because we wanted it to happen, not because money was involved.”

David paused for a second. “I think we need to review your definition of romantic.”

Ben groaned and David laughed. But they were interrupted by Ben’s phone ringing. He fished it out of his pocket and saw Jace’s name on the screen. “It’s Jace. He’s called a few times so I better see what he wants,” he told his brother as he answered. “Hey, what’s up?” he said into the phone.

“Ben? Where are you?”

“I’m up in Connecticut. Why?” Ben hadn’t told the guys he was coming because he didn’t want them to ask questions that might cause him to overthink what he was doing.

“I . . . shit, man, I don’t know how to say this.” Jace sounded off. His usually loud voice was subdued.

Ben sat forward, worrying something had happened to him or Gabe. “Just tell me.”

Jace sighed. “Mike Tarino died.”