Sulking had never felt so deserved. Sitting in his gray sweatpants with his stained college T-shirt, Donovan was well aware of the fact that he’d brought this mood all upon himself. If he hadn’t chickened out at the last minute when Errin walked in yesterday, he and Kate would be together right now.
Instead of getting to explore Kate’s luscious body from head to toe, he sat on his couch, listening to Duncan bitching about how badly he’d treated his girlfriend’s younger sister. As if he wasn’t aware of his fuckup. As if he wasn’t aware of the fact that he probably ruined everything between them before things even started.
Donovan grabbed the bottle of Jack and brought it to his lips. Before he was able to take a gulp to numb the irritating voice in the back of his mind, Brennan jerked the bottle away from him.
“D, this isn’t gonna help. Trust me, I’ve seen enough people trying to drown their sorrows. They all end up pouring themselves more trouble on top of things.”
Brennan was the only one he could tolerate butting in like this. Brennan and Donovan were the two oldest brothers of five, and they had to keep the lot together when their mother died of breast cancer. Their father worked hard at the pub and often left Brennan in charge, because he couldn’t handle managing the pub and raising five boys, ages six to fourteen, all on his own.
Donovan had been twelve at the time. Brennan did his best, being the fourteen-year-old left in charge. He tried to keep the boys in line, packed their bags for school, worked on their science projects and stuff, but he obviously could never replace their mother.
Their father never replaced their mother with someone new—or rather, he never brought his female friends into their home or settled down with one woman ever again. When both Brennan and Donovan were old enough to help out in their family pub on the weekends, they soon understood that their dad had entertained a lot of female patrons in his two-bedroom apartment above Lucky.
Brennan had once walked in on his father, and their relationship had never been the same. Brennan had been seventeen at the time and rebelled heavily against Sean ever since. He’d confided in the fifteen-year-old Donovan what he’d witnessed but made sure the rest of their brothers never knew of their father’s sweet tooth for the ladies.
Donovan often asked himself if their father had been faithful during his marriage with their mother. He never thought of his parents as the picture-perfect couple in love ever again. They never really talked about it with their father, as he was so angry with Brennan when he’d walked in on him. He’d been closed off for several months after that.
Brennan swore to Donovan he would never turn out like their dad. Sean Mills was someone who stole the hearts of many with his charm, good looks, and funny stories. The pain of losing their mom and finding out that their jovial dad, a guy who was loved by everyone in and outside of their family pub, was really some kind of player had broken his young heart.
His older brother was now thirty-six and had built such a huge wall surrounding his heart, that no one ever came close to tearing it down. They sure tried. Brennan never lacked attention from the ladies who came to the pub—no, rather, everywhere they went, some chick would try to get his attention.
Sure, he would fuck around like the next Mills brother, but never would he let them into his heart. He didn’t let them in and share what it had been like to be a fourteen-year-old boy responsible for his four younger brothers.
Hell, the twins, Ronan and Declan, who were just six years old at the time their mom died, were enough to drive a person crazy, let alone the rest of them all on top of that. Donovan had tried to help Brennan wherever he could, which forged an unbreakable bond between the two brothers.
Donovan looked up from his thoughts and sat back on the couch after grabbing Brennan’s half-empty beer bottle since he took away his Jack.
Ronan bellowed a laugh while walking back from the bathroom. “Shit, man. Never seen you so… disheveled? Is that what this is? What people mean when they see a car crash and can’t help themselves and just have to stop and stare?”
Declan slammed his fist in his twin’s upper arm, playfully, but still with enough force to stop Ronan’s verbal diarrhea.
“What? I’m right though; look at him.” Ronan smirked while pointing at Donovan with his beer bottle. His brothers came over tonight for this intervention when Donovan didn’t respond to any of their texts or phone calls.
News traveled fast in the Mills family and, apparently, even faster now that the Walsh sisters were brought into their little mix. Tattletale Errin probably sent out a news bulletin to inform everyone of what happened.
It was Sunday evening, and in the background a sportscaster stood yapping on the television. He was drinking beer and eating pizza with all his brothers present. And he still felt like shit. Nothing was going to make it better. He’d been such a dick to back out at the last minute. He and Kate were about to kiss, the tension in the air had been so thick—thinking about it made him groan out loud.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Instead of giving him reassuring words at his admission, all of his brothers straight-out bellowed a laugh.
“Hardy har har, assholes.”
Donovan ducked when he was the prompt bull’s-eye for Ronan’s attack with pistachio nuts.
“Y’all are having way too much fun about this.”
“Don, after all these years, you’re experiencing what the rest of us already did in high school. You’re thirty-four, but you’re acting like an insecure teenage boy, unsure of how to close the deal with the girl he’s crushing on.” Duncan laughed when he saw the sour look on Donovan’s face and continued. “Now don’t keep us from gloating just a little. You gave every single one of your brothers a lot of shit for falling in and out of love.”
“I don’t remember giving you any shit when you went after Kayla,” Donovan said as he raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of him.
“No, indeed you didn’t. You said it was because of Kayla being so good for me that you couldn’t give me a hard time about it. Well, I know that for you to fall in love—” Duncan held up his hand when Donovan tried to interrupt him. Donovan sighed but motioned his hand in the air to show Duncan he should continue his speech. “As I was saying, for you to fall in love, this must be it, bro. That’s why I’m helping you getting your girl. As Kayla’s sister, I love Kate like she’s my own sister. So if I hadn’t felt like you were serious about her, I wouldn’t even think of helping you out here. You know Kate’s a sweet girl; she’s really something else.”
“I know. Why do you think I tried to shut this down for all of these months? Fuck. Why I even shut it down last night. I know I’m not good enough for her,” Donovan bristled.
Now Brennan had to put in his two cents. “There you go again. Shut the fuck up, D. You are good enough; just stay away from all those negative thoughts about why she shouldn’t end up with you. You’re the only one saying that you’re not good enough. Not Kayla, not your family, and up till now, not even Kate said you weren’t good enough. Get your head out of ye arse and stop being a coward.”
As usual, when pissed off, “you” turned into “ye” and the Irish accent came through in full force. The way Brennan said “arse” was done with such accent that there was no denying their Irish heritage. Only their grandfather talked in a thick Irish accent. But the change in pronunciation happened with every steamed Mills brother.