Page 134 of The Puck Stops Here
Blake hung up the phone and followed the sound of music to the kitchen.
Aiden was at the sink, shimmying away to Amy Winehouse and he chuckled.
‘All these years we’ve lived together, and I’ll never get used to you shaking that ass to Winehouse.’
‘You’re just jealous I’ve got better moves than you.’
‘You wish.’ Blake raked a hand through his hair and joined him at the sink. ‘You okay getting Astrid home if I head out?’
His brother froze mid-shake. ‘You’re leaving?’
‘That was the realtor; a property’s come up and it looks the business, but it won’t hang around for long.’
Aiden straightened. ‘So you’re serious about this?’
‘Moving out? Yeah…’ He’d only mentioned it in passing while they were in LA, and he’d figured his brother would think it a knee-jerk response to everything else he had going on. With Astrid. Leo. The pressure he was under with the Titans. But it wasn’t. ‘It’s time, bro. Jesus, we’re twenty-eight. And don’t tell me you won’t be happy not to have to clear up after me any more.’
‘We have cleaners that do that.’
‘No, we have cleaners who clean but you do the tidying.’
‘To be fair, you’ve been a lot better of late.’
‘I’ve been better at a lot of things.’
Aiden’s gaze drifted to the wall, to where Mom and Astrid were on other side. ‘Yeah, yeah, I know. She’s a good influence.’
‘She really is… so are things… you know… going somewhere?’ He lifted his brows and Blake choked on a laugh.
‘Somewhere sounds about right.’
‘Good. I’m glad. But I gotta say, bro, I’ll be sad to see your stuff go. I’ll be sad to see you go.’
‘I’ll only be around the corner, we can grab a beer – or a coffee, any time. And hell, we’ve always got the ice.’
‘Too true.’
‘So, you’re good to take Astrid back for me?’
‘Yeah, no worries.’
‘Thanks buddy, I owe you.’
He turned away.
‘Though, Blake…’
‘Yeah?’
‘You might want to change your sweater before you unleash that sight on the world.’
* * *
Astrid perched herself on Cynthia’s sofa while the woman herself settled back in the armchair by the fire she had just expertly lit. The room was a reader’s paradise. Shelves stuffed with books, paintings that oozed romance, cushions galore and a window seat to sit and watch the world go by.
Astrid admired it even as her heart went pit-a-pat with the conversation to come. ‘You have a lovely home.’
‘I’m very lucky, I know.’
