"I think you've misunderstood." Julian Fairchild refused, "I don't plan on having any relationship with Maeve Lane anymore."
"Stubborn as always." Henry Hughes retorted, "Don't think I can't tell what's going on in your mind. We've been brothers for years; I can tell you need to fart just by the way you lift your butt..."
Julian Fairchild gave him a cold glance.
Henry Hughes was momentarily speechless, sensing that his analogy might have ruined Julian's clean and bright image, so he skipped over that line, "I'm just afraid that later on you'll blame your brother for stealing your opportunity. I'm telling you now, it's you who doesn't want this chance, so remember, don't come trouble me later."
"Maeve likes you so much; if you pursued her, it would be easy," Henry Hughes stated objectively, "She's never been as serious about anyone else as she was with you before."
Julian recalled Maeve's calm and breezy expression that night, his gaze darkened a bit, "Whatever."
