Just One Night (The Kingston Family #1) - Carly Phillips Page 0,2
platonic with Jordan. Not when it meant avoiding both heartbreak and the potential ending of an important friendship.
“You ever wonder if she would want more?” Xander asked.
Linc shook his head, knowing he couldn’t let himself go there. It would only make it harder if he knew she desired him, too. But he had no intention of giving his brother ammunition. He hadn’t told Xander he wanted Jordan and he wasn’t about to.
For the next hour, Linc drank, Xander watched, and they talked about Xander’s next book, in the pre-filming and heavy discussion stages. Xander didn’t bring up their half-sister or their father again, and Linc was grateful. He wasn’t sure why the news had hit him as hard as it had.
Xander obviously had his head on straight about it, but then again, his brother worked his issues out on the page. Linc brooded.
“What do you say we call it a night?” Without waiting for an answer, Xander stood and grabbed the liquor bottle from the desk before Linc could pour more. Which was just as well. He was feeling the effects of how much he’d already had to drink.
Linc picked up his phone to text Max, his driver. “You want a ride back to your place?” he asked his brother.
Xander had a house on Long Island where he retreated when he was deep in work. And for when he came into the city, he had an apartment on the Upper East Side in the same building Linc lived in.
His brother shook his head. “I drove in and I’m going to head back to my house tonight. I want to get to work first thing in the morning. Want me to drop you off?”
“It’s out of your way and my driver’s waiting. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Linc shut the light, they both grabbed their jackets, and they walked out of the office, taking the elevator downstairs and heading to the city street, where they parted ways. As usual, Manhattan was busy at eight p.m., cars, taxis, and buses clogging the street and honking when another vehicle didn’t move fast enough.
Linc’s driver was coming around the corner. In no time, Linc was sitting in the back of a town car, fiddling with his phone, his mind on everything he’d learned today. God, he hated his father. Hated the times he’d hear his mother crying while he was growing up, knowing she’d stayed married to her husband for the sake of her children. Linc grimaced. His parents had taught him it wasn’t worth having children. What if a relationship went sour? Would his kids have to hear ugly arguing or deal with the pain of divorce? His stomach churned, and he knew it was the combination of the liquor and the memories assaulting him.
He leaned his head against the back seat and closed his eyes, surprised when his phone rang. Lifting the cell from his lap, he glanced at the screen and groaned. Angelica, his ex-girlfriend and one-time friend with benefits, was calling. Though he rarely saw her anymore, he occasionally ran into her at the country club where both of their families belonged.
“Hello?” he asked, planning to keep the conversation short.
“Linc, honey, it’s been so long. How are you?” She purred in an obvious attempt to interest him. It didn’t work.
How was he? Drunk, pissed, confused, and the last thing he needed or wanted was a woman whose only goal was to marry into his family. When he was younger, he’d had no problem indulging her because they’d both needed the same thing. To be seen with the right person on their arms. These days he was older, wiser, and more discriminating. And not about pedigree or women who faked everything about themselves.
He wanted someone real. Someone like Jordan. Shit, he was drunk.
“Linc?” Angelica asked, her voice causing his eyes to open wider and forcing him to concentrate.
“I’m here. It’s been a long day.”
“Oh, poor baby. Why don’t you come over and I’ll pour us some wine. We can work out your frustrations.”
He knew her offer came with strings, something he’d discovered when they’d tried the friends-with-benefits route. She’d always wanted and demanded more than he was willing to give. Financially and emotionally. There was a reason he’d been celibate for the last year. His hand didn’t demand anything in return.
“Sorry. I’m home for the night,” he said, glancing out the window. The car was nearing Jordan’s apartment, which he always passed on his way home.