Brother’s Best Friends Are My Mates novel Chapter 181

Matt

“I think he’s starting to crack,” I said, tossing a ball between my hands. “Colby. He’s pulling away again.”

Rain was sprawled on my couch, chewing on the last of a granola bar like it was a steak dinner. “Yeah. He’s been going full’ grumpy alpha in self-doubt spiral’ lately. It’s like watching a motivational poster give up.”

I tossed the ball at his head. He caught it-barely. “We should do something.”

Rain sat up, rubbing the spot where it bounced off his forehead. “Like what? Bake him cookies? Knit him a scarf that says

Believe in Yourself, Dumbass?”

I snorted. “Tempting. But no. I mean something real. Something to show him how far he’s come.” “Okay, so… a slideshow of his greatest hits? Background music by Beyonce?”

“Rain.”

“I’m just spit balling, man.”

I stood and started pacing. “What if we got everyone together? Lia, Jesse, the others. Had them each talk about what Colby’s done for them. Pack stuff. Personal stuff. Victories. The whole deal.”

Rain’s eyes lit up. “Like a living tribute. An emotional ambush. I love it.”

“It’d remind him of what he’s built. That it’s not just about responsibilities and pressure. It’s about people. Us.” He nodded slowly. “Okay, okay. So we do speeches?”

“Short ones. Honest ones. Maybe photos or stuff from before. Then we end it with something dumb, like a surprise barbecue. He loves barbecue.”

Rain snapped his fingers. “We’ll call it Operation Remind the Alpha He’s Not a Failure.” “Terrible name.”

“Working title.”

I crossed my arms, thinking. “You think this’ll help?”

“I know it will,” Rain said seriously for once. “Colby doesn’t need someone telling him he’s strong. He needs proof that he already is.”

I exhaled. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

Rain grinned. “You bring the strategy. I’ll bring the meat. And the bad jokes. It’s what I do.” “Perfect,” I said. “Let’s remind him who the hell he is.”

Rain stood and stretched, cracking his knuckles like we were about to go into battle. “You know, this might be the first surprise party in history designed to emotionally dismantle someone positively.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t just make him cry and flee into the woods.”

He shrugged. “If he does, I’ll chase him down with ribs and a playlist of power ballads.”

I cracked a grin. “Colby’s lucky we’re this annoying.” Rain winked. “Lucky and deeply unprepared.”

Rain stood and stretched, cracking his knuckles like we were about to go into battle. “You know, this might be the first surprise party in history designed to emotionally dismantle someone positively.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t just make him cry and flee into the woods.”

He shrugged. “If he does, I’ll chase him down with ribs and a playlist of power ballads.” I cracked a grin. “Colby’s lucky we’re this annoying.”

Rain winked. “Lucky and deeply unprepared.”

He started pacing now, rubbing his hands together like a mad scientist. “Okay, picture it. Backyard. Twinkle lights. Jesse is trying to grill but burning everything, so I have to take over. Lia is awkwardly trying not to cry while she talks about how Colby gave her a place to belong. I pull out a slideshow I made in, like, two hours because I forgot until the last minute-“

“Why would you make a slideshow?” “For the drama, Matt.”

I sighed. “What even goes in this slideshow?”

Rain held up one hand and ticked off fingers. “Colby knocking out a rogue wolf with one punch. Colby is carrying an injured kid two miles back to camp. Colby fell into a pond because he refused to admit the log was slippery.”

“Oh yeah,” I chuckled, “he was so mad about that.”

“He tried to make it sound noble. Said he was ‘testing the depth for the rest of us.'”

Rain laughed, then sobered a little. “But seriously-he needs this. We all do, kind a. A reminder that we’re not just surviving. We’re something.”

Everyone stood up as I entered, one by one launching into their heartfelt monologues about how much they cared, how they’d noticed I was struggling, and how I didn’t have to go through it alone.

It was… beyond comprehension.

Rain ended up crying through his entire speech-big, wet, gasping sobs that made me want to burst out laughing despite myself. Not a great reaction, sure, but this was Rain. He was always so over the top that I half-expected him to pull out a handwritten sonnet or a smoke machine.

“I just-he’s like this tree, okay?” Rain blubbered, dabbing his face with a tissue. “A big, broody, emotionally constipated tree. And we’re all just-little birds nesting in his branches!”

I choked on my laugh. “Rain…”

Lia placed a hand gently on his arm. “You’re doing great,” she said, barely holding it together herself.

Lia teared up too, though she managed to keep it together better. Her voice only wavered once, when she talked about how I gave her a sense of home when she’d been convinced she’d never have one again.

Matt, ever the realist, whispered to Jesse, “I’ve got duct tape in the truck” I held up a hand, smirking. “Let’s not go that far.”

Everyone laughed, even Rain, though it sounded more like a sob-snort hybrid.

The truth was… I appreciated everything they’d done. All of it. The dumb slideshow, the speeches, even Rain’s sobbing bird­ tree metaphor. They’d gone through all this trouble just to remind me I wasn’t alone, when I’d been doing everything in my power to push them away for the past week I cleared my throat, trying to find the words. “I, uh… I don’t know what to say.” “Try ‘thank you,”‘ Jesse offered.

“Or ‘Rain, you are the light of my life,”‘ Rain sniffled. “Don’t push it,” I said, but my voice was softer now. “You’re not alone,” she said. “Even when you try to be.”

I looked around at them-all these people who kept showing up, no matter how much I pushed, no matter how heavy everything felt.

And for the first time in a while, the weight lifted just a little. “Okay,” I said quietly. “You win.”

Rain perked up. “Wait-like? Because I wrote a second speech just in case.”

Everyone groaned. I laughed, really laughed, and let myself sit down in the middle of them all.