He shrugged. “I know you don’t want to risk breaking it.”

“Then you better hold onto it for the rest of your short life,” I said as I strolled up. When he started to smile, I struck. A lightning-quick but light jab. Dean let out a grunt, the cup slipping as he touched his busted lip.

I caught the cup in my other hand before he could blink and took a much-needed sip of coffee. Unfortunately, it was loaded with sugar. Grimacing, I set it down on the counter and eyed my scowling brother.

“Asshole,” he muttered. “Fucking fast asshole.”

“At least I pulled the punch. I’m guessing that little show…” I nodded toward the bedroom, “was for last night?”

A flush of rage colored his cheeks. “You’re damn right it was. I was stuck in there for over an hour, not to mention I missed my date with Parker, who won’t answer my calls, by the way.”

Interesting. The thought of Parker made me smile. For reasons I didn’t want to dwell on.

Dean saw the smile and glared. “You’re such a dick.”

“I know.” I shrugged. “But I warned you that plan of yours wasn’t going to happen.”

He gave me a pleasant look, the kind we used to give Great Uncle Morty when he’d do ventriloquist impressions with his false teeth in hand. “I’m not sure if you’ve realized this, but you’re not actually my father. He’s dead and I’m a goddamn adult.”

“I’m as good as, and have been for years.” Waving him off, I went to get my own coffee. “I’m not rehashing it, Dean. It’s done. Your job opportunity is gone.”

“You don’t know that.” He pressed his hands on the counter, bracing himself. “I’ll explain to Parker—”

“It’s done. Use that fancy-ass education your big brain earned and go get a true job. Make your life happen.” I quirked a brow. “And then you can pay me all your back rent.”

“If you cared so much about me paying rent, you’d have let me go on my date. No, this is about control. You can’t stand not controlling everything around you.”

He might have a point. I took another sip of coffee—black, thank you very much. “That may be, but believe it or not, it’s more about me wanting more for my baby brother. Sappy but it’s the truth.”

Dean shifted his feet, not meeting my eyes. “Fine. I get it.” His chin lifted high and stubborn. “But what you did was shitty and wrong.”

“It was.”

He shook his head in disgust. “I’m calling her—”

“I took the job.”

The words landed between us like a stink bomb. Dean’s nostrils flared as his eyes narrowed. “What job?”

I was pretty sure he knew, but I answered anyway. “I’m going to pose as Parker’s boyfriend.”

The kitchen clock ticked out a loud ten seconds before he responded. “You? You’re telling me you went in my place last night?”

It was weird how much he sounded like my mother just then, the way she used to get when we’d done something really wrong, right before she totally lost it.

“Yes. I met up with her and we came to an agreement. It’s a done deal,” I told a silent Dean. “So, like I said, put on the suit and hunt down a job you’re made for.”

I felt like an asshole. How could I not? I was. But some things had to be done. You sucked it up, pushed away the guilt, the regret, and got on with it. I’d been doing that my whole adult life. And my adult life had started way before I’d been ready.

“I can’t believe you,” Dean rasped. “You fucking stole my gig with Parker.” He laughed broadly and without humor. “You dickhead! You weren’t worried about me. You just saw a good opportunity to make some cash yourself. You selfish, fucking—”

“Hey.” I pointed at him in warning, guilt riding me hard. Because he was right. And he was wrong. “That’s not what I had planned when I went over there. I planned to hand her her ass.”

“And then you saw how cute her ass was,” Dean said, nodding as though it all made sense to him now.

“No.” Yes. Maybe. “I realized that she was hanging out with Franklin Fairchild.”

He blinked. “Who the fuck is that?”

“Some big-shot billionaire with too much time on his hands and not enough ways to spend it. Parker works for one of his companies.” I glanced around the sparse loft apartment before pinning Dean with a stare. “I didn’t want to worry you, but we’re in danger of losing the gym—”

“Good! It’s not like I wanted you to buy this place anyway.”

“This place,” I ground out, “was Dad’s dream, his legacy to us.”

“Exactly. His dream. His legacy.” Dean flung an arm up. “It was never about me. You were the golden boy, the star. I can see why you’d want it, but don’t include me in this.”

“Fine.” I set my mug down with a sigh. “Regardless. If I hang around Parker, and therefore, Fairchild, I can try to convince him to sponsor the gym.”

Dean paced, grabbing at the ends of his hair. “So instead of me being pimped out, you’re going to pimp yourself out? Am I getting that right?” He laughed again. “Fucking unbelievable.”

He stopped short and faced me. “You know what I don’t get? Why the hell do you even need money? You were making bank when you were boxing. Where the hell did it all go? And don’t tell me it went into the gym and my education again. You made way more than that.”

What was I supposed to tell him? That a huge chunk of my early earnings had gone to paying for Mom’s cancer bills? We lived in the supposed best country in the world, yet my middle-class family was quickly bankrupted because my mom had been dying and my dad, who owned his own business and didn’t have good insurance, couldn’t afford the hospital bills. I’d stepped up and paid them.

Maybe Dean knew that much. But he sure as hell didn’t know that Dad, who had been my manager and was supposed to handle my money as well, lost almost all of it on shitty investments and gambling. That I hadn’t known the extent of the damage until after I’d bought the gym and paid for Dean’s tuition.

I could barely stomach that as it was. Dad had been my idol. Until he wasn’t. And frankly, I felt like a damn fool for letting it happen. That’s what you got when you trusted somebody, even the ones you loved. If you wanted to survive in this world, you didn’t let anyone fully in.

“The money is gone,” I said instead. “But the gym could turn a good profit if we updated it. We need new equipment, to redo the locker rooms… hell, the whole place needs a good coat of paint. In this market, we won’t be able to pull in new members if Lights Out stays looking like a shithole.”

I didn’t mention the offer from Garret. Dean would tell me to take it and I wasn’t hearing that. It was the last possible solution. “If the gym becomes profitable,” I added, “you’ll earn money too.”

Because the place was half Dean’s, whether he wanted it or not. I’d made certain to give him that safety net.

I expected him to scoff as he usually did when I spoke of the gym. But he nodded, tight and decisive.