Page 19 of The Haunted Hotel

“Of course I am.” His voice softens. “I love you, Morgs, you know that. We’re brothers and nothing will ever change that, not the press, not gossip, not family skeletons.”

“I should have just come home to New York,” I say sullenly. “This is a complete waste of time. Eventually, the press will get bored and move on to something else.”

“Yes, they probably will, but a true brother makes you face your problems, not ignore them.”

“No,” I reply, my tone dry. “A true brother would have gone out and slept with a few prostitutes to take the heat off and draw the press’ attention away.”

Warren laughs. “While I’m always happy to take one for the team, you need this.”

“Like a hole in the head.”

“No, for your own peace of mind.”

“My mind was completely peaceful. Coming here is what’s pissed me off.”

“Morgan,” he says, and for once, he’s being serious. “Whether you want to admit it or not, you need to do this. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve needed to do it for a long time. I know when Mom brought you back to the states after your dad died, she shut the door on that side of your family. She wouldn’t talk about it, and I don’t know how much she’s even told you about your dad. What I do know is that I watched you, idolised you, and followed you around like your goddamn shadow when we were growing up. You were my amazing big brother, none of this ‘half’ bullshit. It was the same for my dad. He loved you like you were his own. In his eyes, there was no difference between us, but–”

“But?” I prompt.

“I always got the impression that you felt you had to earn your place in our family, no matter what Dad said to you. He accepted you just the way you are, but I don’t think youever accepted yourself. I think there’s a part of you that needs answers about where you came from…whoyou came from. This is a chance to discover the roots of your tree and maybe then you can finally be comfortable in your own skin.”

“What? Are you a shrink now?” I grumble.

“I’ll bill you when you get home.” He grins. “Now stop being the grumpy bastard I know and love, and go make nice with the eccentric Brit side of your family. Who knows, you may just learn a thing or two.”

“I sincerely doubt it.” I snort, but before I can say anything else, there’s a loud knocking. “Give me a minute, Warren. Someone’s at the door.”

Pushing myself up from where I’m sitting on the bed, I cross the room, my phone clutched in one hand and the sheet held up to my body by the other. I really hope it’s whoever took my luggage bringing it back because I’m about to tear them a new one.

Working up a full head of steam as I march across the floor in the most dignified manner I can considering I’m wearing a bedsheet, I grab the door and yank it open. However, I must have caught the sheet on something because the second the door swings open, it’s ripped away, leaving me standing butt naked in front of the cute blonde from downstairs.

His huge baby blues widen even more and his mouth falls open when his gaze inadvertently dips to my suddenly very interested cock. Jesus Christ, the damn thing’s practically been in a coma for the past several months andnowit chooses to start randomly saluting quirky little British desk clerks?

“Fuck,” I hiss, breaking the detente and clamping my hand over my dick.

Unfortunately, it just so happens to be the hand holding my phone. The phone that is currently streaming a video call with my brother. The brother who is now without a doubt beingsubjected to an up close and personal greeting from my fully awake cock.

“My eyes! My eyes!” I hear Warren bemoan through the phone’s speaker. “You’re paying for my therapy when you get back, you asshole.”

He should probably be grateful the view wasn’t of my asshole, I think, but instead I switch hands and lift the screen.

“Sorry.” I wince. “Knee-jerk reaction.”

“That wasn’t your knee, bro.”

“I know,” I sigh. “Consider us now even for your graduation party.”

“You said you didn’t see anything,” he protests, his tone shifting to loud and indignant.

“I lied.”

“I’ll call you later once I’ve bleached my brain,” Warren hisses and hangs up.

“Um.” Ellis blushes, his cheeks a bright rosy pink. “Towel?”

It’s only then that I realise he’s holding a stack of freshly folded towels in his arm.

“Yes, please,” I say desperately.