Of course Liam would know of the only sushi joint in the city that shared a wall with a dance club. Eliot sat at the bar drinking a gin and tonic while watching his brother float from one alpha to the next on the dance floor. Jane and Bing floated toward the edges of the room, their eyes only on each other, while Carter practically draped himself over Darcy just a few feet away. Louisa and her fiance had bowed out, taking an Uber home, and Eliot wondered if he should have done the same.

“Well don’t you just look like a grumpy little wallflower,” Charlie said, popping up next to Eliot’s elbow.

Eliot jumped, then laughed, wiping away a few drops that had spilled from his drink onto his sleeve. “I was just starting to wonder if I needed to bail, or if you’d actually decided to come.”

“Are you kidding? A chance to see you get a little tipsy and let loose? As if I’d miss it.” Charlie signalled for the bartender and ordered a vodka soda. Quietly, he murmured, “You didn’t tell me you’d decided to pursue Mr. Pemberly after all.”

Eliot groaned. “It’s not like that. Jane invited us to go putt putting with her and Bing and then--”

“And you’re ignoring the opportunity that’s staring you straight in the face, as normal.” Charlie shook his head, accepting his drink from the bartender. “Whatever am I going to do with you, Eliot?”

Eliot glanced at where Darcy had been lurking most of the night, but he and Carter had disappeared. Had Eliot completely misread that situation? Were they actually a couple?

No. That would be one seriously messed up dynamic. Eliot drained his drink and set it on the counter. “Get me drunk enough to dance.”

“Did I hear someone wants to get drunk?” A new voice said. “Eliot, right?”

It took Eliot a minute to place the man who had addressed him. “Oh! You’re the bartender at the marina!”

“George Wickham,” he reminded Eliot. Eliot introduced Charlie, and then Liam came prancing up.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving me for my brother, George,” he teased, though his voice had a competitive edge.

George slung his arm around Liam. “I couldn’t help but hear your brother say he wanted to get drunk. It’s our duty to help him, don’t you think?”

Liam’s eyes lit up and he pushed his way to the bar. “Shots!” He called. “How many…” He turned around and started counting. “Charlie, Darcy. Shots. You in?”

Eliot was at the perfect angle to see both Darcy and George’s faces as they turned to face each other. George’s open smile pressed into a tight, pursed line, and Darcy’s strong eyebrows furrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Darcy. It’s been a long time.” George stuck out his hand.

“You two know each other?” Eliot asked, his curiosity at their response nearly tearing him to pieces.

“We were friends when we were young,” George said, still holding his hand out while Darcy studiously ignored it. “How about a drink, Darcy? For old time’s sake?”

Without a word, Darcy spun on his heel and stalked to the other side of the room. Carter started to follow, but Liam pressed a shot glass in his hand.

“Where did Darcy go?” Liam asked, then shrugged. “More for me, I guess. Bottoms up!”

They all passed their shot glasses back, and then George held a hand out to Eliot. “Ready to dance yet?”

Eliot wasn’t, but he was dying to know what was going on between him and Darcy, so he followed George onto the dance floor, hoping he’d have chance to ask without it being too awkward. He tried once, but the music was too loud, and slowly, the night dissolved into too many drinks, and the haunting, judging eyes of Darcy watching over them.

Eliot rolled over in his bed, moaning. “Long night there, little brother,” Jane chirped from her spot in the doorway. She sipped at her mug of green tea to hide the grin on her face.

“Liam will be the death of me,” Eliot groaned, burying his head under his pillow.

Jane walked over, sitting down on the bed. She sat carefully, but any motion at all seemed to make Eliot’s head throb in waves of agony. “Who knew you were such a lightweight?”

“I went past my limit.”

Liam picked that moment to pop into the room. “Damn, that was a good night.” He grinned without a hint of remorse or hangover. Seeing Eliot still in bed, he laughed. “God, man, when did you become such a dead weight? I figured, what with knowing Charlie and George, you’d be partying with us all night.”

Jane shook her head. “Two o’clock is late enough”

Liam pointed at a still hiding Eliot and rolled his eyes. “Charlie and I shut the place down.” Liam put one foot on the mattress, earning a “Don’t!” from both siblings that he firmly ignored, and started jumping. “That guy George was fun. He can definitely hold his alcohol.”

Eliot bolted from the rollicking bed with a gag. “Glad you had a good time.”

Liam’s grin widened. “Oh, I had a great time.”

Jane watched Eliot’s reaction, concern for her typically over-exuberant brother growing. “Did you…”

“You’d damn well better not have slept with Charlie,” Eliot shouted, immediately holding his head for it.

Liam plopped onto the bed. “Oh, give me a break. The guy is old.”

“He is not! Charlie is two years older than me,” Eliot pointed out.

“Yeah, he’s my age,” Jane said.

“Ok, fine, it’s not the chronology that’s important here. He’s old in my mind. George on the other hand…” Liam smiled naughtily and held his hands about a foot apart. His eyebrows rose high. “Let me tell—”

“Liam!”

“No. No, I so do not want to hear it right now.” Eliot turned away, heading for the bathroom he shared with Jane. “I’m taking a shower and trying to erase that information from memory.”

Eliot heard Liam’s laugh and Jane’s continued admonishments as he shut the door. That Liam considered Charlie too “old”, but the older George was acceptable, grated oddly. Thankfully, the rushing water drowned out whatever additional details his baby brother might let slip.

Sighing, Eliot looked at himself in the mirror. He was a mess. He splashed water on his face. It didn’t help near enough. Thank god for modern plumbing and warm showers. Pulling back the curtain, Eliot stepped into the shower without testing the water.

Within three seconds, he was screaming bloody murder as pellets of ice cold water hit his body.

Eliot slammed his now fully alert body against and through the curtain, putting distance between him and the icy water. He twisted the knob all the way to its hottest setting. Nothing. “No, no, no,” he muttered. He had a meeting that morning. He couldn’t show up smelling like stale liquor and sleep.

A knock sounded on the bathroom door and Jane hollered at him. “Eliot! The super just called. Boiler is broken.”

“Great,” Eliot yelled back. He thought he heard another one of Liam’s irritating laughs. Gritting his teeth, Eliot plunged back in. “Be fast. Be fast.” The words, uttered through teeth clenched tight to keep from chattering didn’t really help, but they made it manageable.

When he got out of the bathroom, Jane was on the phone with their mother. She put her hand over the mouthpiece to inform him that the hot water would be out for the rest of the week.

“That’s not good.”

“It gets worse. They refuse to pay for a hotel.”

“What? They’ve got to pay for a hotel,” Eliot demanded.

Jane shook her head sadly. “No, they don’t. I checked. They have to provide water; not comfortable water.”

“But the water will be off while they fix the boiler,” Eliot pointed out.

Liam banged out of the spare half bath. “Well, it’s been nice on your couch. Jane, tell Mom I’m headed over. Hot water is a deal breaker for me.”

Jane relayed the message. “Traitor!” Eliot called as Liam left the apartment, door hanging open behind him.

Bing slid around Liam with a look of confusion. “Hey, man. Had fun last night,” Liam said. “The sibs got a busted boiler so I’m out of here.”

“Bing! What are you doing here?” Jane walked toward him, cell still at her ear. “Yes, Mom, Bing is here. No, he didn’t sleep over.”

Jane rolled her eyes at a grinning Bing who held out a bouquet of flowers. “Thank you,” she whispered, taking the flowers from him.

Eliot eyed the bouquet of flowers, noting that they were a combination of daisies and carnations—easy and cheap, but also Jane’s favorites. Maybe Bing was more interested than Eliot wanted to believe if he’d figured out what flowers Jane liked.

Bing walked further into the apartment, obviously looking around at the second hand furnishings Jane had used to decorate. Eliot bristled. It might not be expensive, but Jane had excellent taste. Bing didn’t say anything about the room, however. He smiled. “I was in the area and thought I’d stop by. What’s this about a busted boiler?” Bing leaned against the island that separated the kitchen from the living room.

Eliot’s thoughts flickered back to when he’d built it two years ago; back when they needed more workspace for the business but couldn’t afford to rent a real office. He doubted Bing ever had such a moment in his life, where he’d had to make do with whatever he could cobble together.

Eliot could hear his mother’s shrieks echoing the very protests Eliot had been making just moments before. He winced. He hated any comparisons between him and his mother, especially if they were true. “The apartment building’s boiler is out of commission for the rest of the week and they won’t pay to put us up in a hotel.”

“Hey, but that’s no problem. Come stay at my place,” Bing offered.

Eliot shook his head. “That’s nice—”

“Yes, Bing, that’s really very nice,” Jane said, adding into the phone, “No, Mom, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Bing’s offered to let us stay at his place.”

“But we wouldn’t want to put you out. We’ll be fine here or at our parents’ on the couch.”

Mrs. Bennett’s voice sounded from the phone’s speaker. “Floor. You two will be on the floor. Take the man’s offer. You’ll have more opportunity to catch the man’s attention if—”

Jane, horrified embarrassment twisting the expression on her face, desperately mashed her volume button. “Sorry,” came her whispered apology.

Bing looked at Eliot and winked. “Seriously, I’ve got plenty of rooms, if you’re worried.”

“Mom says to remind you that she’s converted our rooms into storage for her heirloom dog globes.”

“Heirloom dog globes?” Bing asked, eyes flashing with laughter and curiosity.

Eliot groaned. “Stupid cheap-o plastic shit. No one but our mother would consider them heirloom unless a zombie apocalypse occurred.”

Bing laughed. “Sounds like something I’d love to see.”

Jane finally ended the call, set the phone on the butcher block of the island, and apologized again to Bing.

Bing took her hand. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Come stay with me. I’ve got plenty of rooms. It’s a big house. I promise neither of you would even remotely be in the way.” Bing stared down into Jane’s eyes. “Please stay with me until your boiler is fixed. It would be my honor to help you.”

“Ok.” Jane’s lips tilted up in a soft smile, her eyes going all gooey at Bing.

Eliot knew she would say yes. He could see it happening right in front of him. Well, he consoled himself, at least it’ll beat cold showers every day.

“Plus, Louisa, her fiance, and Darcy are there too. It’ll be like a party every day. We’ll have a wonderful time,” Bing added.

Eliot turned away to hide his wince. Maybe he’d be taking cold showers anyway.