Page 3 of Good For Me

“Ah, young River,” Wyatt says, clapping my back. “Someday you’ll meet a nice girl and then you’ll understand.”

Without meaning to, my eyes go to the round table in the back of the room. I know it’s empty—she’s the only one who ever sits there, and God knows I would have noticed if she came in.

“What?” Will asks immediately, turning to see what I’m looking at. I could kick myself. My cousins don’t miss shit, and they gossip like a bunch of preteens. It’s a good thing she’s not sitting over there, because they’d have half the family planningmywedding by the end of the night if they got a glimpse of the way I look at Jasmine.

“Thought Kim needed help,” I lie, forcing my mind away from grey eyes and dark chocolate hair. “So what else is new? Haven’t seen you guys in a while.”

A whileis relative in our family, considering the amount of time we all generally spend together. Our parents live within a few blocks of each other and we all grew up in each other’s houses—when we weren’t trudging around the country on our fathers’ tour bus.

“Got a couple new recording gigs this week,” Wyatt says, face brightening.

“Nice, man. Anyone decent?”

Wyatt is a professional pianist. He toured with the Seattle Symphony and as a classical soloist for years before coming home to have surgery a few months ago. He’s recovery’s been going well, and he recently started working again, as a session artist—a guy the labels or producers hire to come in and play on tracks when the singer needs a pianist.

My oldest cousin looks uncharacteristically giddy and Will jabs his side, a huge smile on his face. “Go on. Tell him.”

Wyatt smiles sheepishly. “They want me on Cole Carter’s new album.”

Holy shit. Cole Carter is a legendary rock star, even bigger than our dads. This is a huge deal for Wyatt.

“He asked for him specifically,” Will says, voice bursting with pride for his older brother.

Wyatt shrugs. “Probably just because he knows Dad.”

That’s bullshit though, and we all know it. Cole Carter has a reputation for being a huge perfectionist when it comes to his music. There’s no way he would pick someone unworthy because of nepotism.

“That’s awesome, bro,” I say, meaning it with every fiber of my being. As the oldest of all the Ransom cousins, Wyatt has always been someone I looked up to. He’s seriously one of the best guys I know, and he deserves every bit of happiness and success.

Which means I feel really shitty about the slight stab of jealousy that pierces my chest.

Maybe Will was right about me being a douchebag. Only an asshole would be jealous of his cousin’s success just because he has no clue what he’s doing with his life.

Wyatt chats a little more about the gig. He’s also going to be performing with the Los Angeles Philharmonic next month. I think he might be more excited about that then he is the opportunity to work with a rock and roll legend—dude has always been a giant nerd for classical music.

Eventually Will gets a text from Eva, causing his face to go all soft and gooey again, and that directs the conversation back to the wedding.

“We need to plan your bachelor party,” I tell him.

“We have months, dude.”

I shrug. “Epic shit requires planning. And this party needs to beepic.”

“Great,” he mutters. “We’re going to end up stuck in an Amsterdam jail, aren’t we?”

“Amsterdam,” I say thoughtfully, rubbing my chin. “I hadn’t considered that.”

“Man, don’t give him ideas,” Wyatt chides.

“You weren’t even here on his twenty-first,” Will tells him. “That was the craziest night of my life.”

“Closest I’ve ever come to getting arrested,” I say proudly, and they both laugh.

But somehow, the banter doesn’t feel as easy to me as it usually does.

Everyone has a role in our family. Wyatt is the cool older cousin everyone looks up to. Will is the responsible one, the one all the younger cousins come to when they’re in trouble. My older sister Rose is the favorite—of both her uncles and the other kids. Everly is the over-the-top, non-stop-fun one while her best friend Alex is the serious, hard-worker.

And then there’s me. The fucking court jester.