Page 108 of Broken Brothers

By the third song, she was pressed back up against me, her hips into my crotch, and my hands around her waist. I was hard as a rock, and no matter how much I told myself I was in dangerous territory, I couldn’t help myself.

Then she turned into me and her eyes narrowed on mine. And that’s when I did something that I almost never had done before, at least not since I got past puberty.

I panicked.

I panicked about the prospect of us getting back together. I panicked at drawing Layla into my already hectic life. I panicked about getting hurt again.

I took two steps back.

“Chance?”

She looked shocked, but I was a nervous wreck. What the fuck was happening to me? This wasn’t me. I was cool, calm, and Chance, not this little bitch who acted like he was 15.

But I couldn’t deny it.

“I… I gotta go,” I said, gulping. “I’ll text you later, OK?”

“Chance.”

But I saw the path that I’d go down if I stayed there. Too much pain. Too much heartache. Even if Layla did nothing wrong, there were too many variables. Morgan. Edwin Hunt. Craig Taylor. Claire McLendon. Sarah Hill.

And me, Chance Hunt, or Chance Givens.

Layla as a variable may have been more stable, but all of the other ones were anything but.

“Have a good night, Layla,” I said, even as I knew leaving would mean I would have anything but.

45

The fuck is happening to me?

As I walked out of the bar, I had to acknowledge something that I had refused to do so for some time but had to say.

I was beginning to have feelings for Layla again.

If I didn’t, I could have just kissed her, fucked her, and not felt anything when it all went down.

Instead, I was having feelings just by having her look at me.

What did that say about me? What did it say that this girl had screwed me over so bad, and yet as she came back around…

Except she didn’t screw you over, she had no choice but to by her evil uncle. Maybe she wants to see if there’s something there given that you and her can actually try something outside the context of business. Maybe you should give it a shot.

But with everything going on? No way.

Around me, the chaos of New York City seemed to reflect the chaos of my mind. Some sort of traffic delay had led to an incessant honking of cars and taxis, and the swirling wind and ominous thunder off in the distance that had only started in the last little bit seemed to double down on the potential problemsthat would soon emerge. That didn’t even say anything about anyone who might potentially be watching me, not that I cared any longer about that possibility.

I pulled up my phone and realized I’d forgotten that Sarah had sent me a message. Pulling the phone close to my chest so that rain wouldn’t ruin it, I started to read as I began the trek back to my apartment.

“Hey handsome, how have things been this past week? You ready for me to come to NYC? :-)”

So the flirting had picked up some, it seemed. But what was also interesting was not only had Sarah written that, I could also see that she was in the process of writing more—I swore it almost felt like she knew I’d be leaving the bar at that exact moment and timed it perfectly.

“Don’t make me wait now! I’ve been waiting for almost a decade and you’re going to make me wait to hear from you? Geez, Chance!”

I laughed a bit uneasily, but didn’t see any harm in flirting back. After all, what were we but two people messaging each other on social media? This wasn’t in person yet and wouldn’t be for some time.

Plus, I was a bit more drunk than I’d meant to get. Consequences didn’t mean much to me at the moment; the only consequences I really cared about was making sure I didn’t fall flat on my face or get run over by a taxi between now and getting home.