Page 12 of Don't Say You're Sorry

He shuts me up with a single look, his nostrils flaring. “If you felt for me what I felt for you, you never would have left me.”

“Easton.” I stand, closing the distance between us and cupping his face. He bats my hands away and steps back. I sigh heavily.Fuck it.“Your dad knows about us.”

“I know.”He knows?“Iknew, and I didn’t give a fuck. I would have chosen you. I would have gone with you, but you didn’t even give me the chance. You didn’t choose me.”

“I wanted to. I almost did. But my mum… I couldn’t do it to her. I couldn’t?—”

“Stop.” He laughs again, shaking his head as he opens his bedroom door. “Just go, Adam. And don’t come back this time.”

Anything he wants. But… “I’m coming back.”

He scoffs. “We’ll see.”

“I’ve never lied to you, E,” I whisper as I pass him. “Not once. Remember that.”

“There are worse things than lying,” he mutters.

I stop in the hall, eyes forward. “Like?”

“Like never saying a fucking word.”

CHAPTER 4

ADAM

“Like never saying a fucking word.”

Easton’s words still echo as I head downstairs. I glance toward the kitchen on my right and spot Frankie, Carter, Nate, and Xavi around the island. Conversation dies the moment I pass.

Frankie’s face is blank, void of any emotion. Carter raises a brow at the sight of me.

Nate looks pissed. And Xavi—wide-eyed and clearly scandalized—gapes at my bare chest before yanking his gaze away. Nate grits his teeth and smacks him upside the head.

My clothes are still in the state Easton left them in. I didn’t forget to fix them. I was hoping at least one of them would see me like this. Iwantedthem to see what he did to me. I want them to know that I’m his, and he’smine, not theirs.

None of them seem to be jealous of me though. They’re just watching me warily. They’re worried about Easton. They’re protective of him…

“You love him,” I say. “All of you.”

“Like family should,” Carter says bluntly.

I wince.

“Did he tell you to leave?” Carter asks.

I nod.

“Then get the fuck out.”

Sighing through my nose, I keep walking.

“Hey, Adam,” Carter calls. “If that’s your boyfriend outside, don’t ever let me see you again.”

I turn to face him. “Excuse me?”

He tilts his head toward the kitchen window, and I blink, pinching the bridge of my nose. I don’t have to look to know who’s out there.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say. “He’s my brother.”