Page 117 of Three Pucking Ex's Brothers

Though I worry about Tommy. I’m not sure what his intentions are, but I know he’s a gentle soul and doesn’t afford trust easily to people. If this is indeed some ploy at revenge, I don’t want to see him hurt.

I could withstand the sting, and I’m certain Russ could too. We’ve felt rejection before, and though it would hurt like hell, we’d handle it.

But Tommy…

Tommy has never been with a woman, and therefore he’s not familiar with the ills of heartbreak, and I worry what it may do to him. He may never recover.

I can’t control Tommy any more than I can control Nora, and yet…it feels like I’m slipping through the cracks. Like once again, I’m not enough.

A part of me is still reeling from what happened between us the other night. I didn’t mean to show up at her brother’s, and I certainly didn’t mean for us to…

I lean against the counter, trying to dispel the thoughts, the memory.

She must think I’m a freak. A kinky asshole with a forced orgasm fetish. Maybe that’s why she hasn’t spoken to me or sought me out, even though she’s here. Maybe she’s avoiding me, because now she has seen the real me.

If that’s the case, so be it.

I will let her go, if that’s what she wants, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at her the same, knowing how I feel.

I set the coffee pot, trying to decide what to make for breakfast. Her car is still here, and it’s early, so I know she’ll have to come out eventually, and when she does, that’s exactly what I plan to tell her.

Whatever it is she wants, I will gladly give it—even if what she wants is notme.

Though I secretly hope that’s not the case. After all, I’ve got a game tonight, and I need to be focused.

I just about have all the ingredients for my frittata set out when I hear her come in. I know it’s her, because neither Russ or Tommy walk so carefully. You can hear them a mile away.

“Good morning,” I say, steeling my resolve to turn and look at her.

I notice she’s wearing one of Tommy’s anime shirts, her pale legs on display. Her hair is a mess. Her blue eyes are tired, and she freezes when she sees me.

It’s the tension in her shoulders that hits me. Like she’s afraid of me. Afraid of something I can’t begin to understand, but I don’t want her to be afraid.

I just want her to be happy.

I look at her in my kitchen, in my little brother’s T-shirt with that just-fucked hair. My heart breaks, because I knew this would happen. I knew it was too good to be true. There’s no way she’d ever want someone like me, not now that she knows my dirty secrets.

“Good morning,” she says as she carefully takes a couple steps forward.

“I hope you’re hungry,” I say, my voice not betraying the ache I truly feel. “It’s game day, so it’s always a big breakfast on game day.” I give her my back.

“Freddie…”

“Frittata with eggs, bacon, and peppers, and of course, one with Canadian bacon for Tommy because he doesn’t likeregularbacon, plus we’ve got fresh fruit and?—”

“Freddie…” She calls my name again, but I can’t look at her. I know if I do, I’ll crack like an egg, and then she’ll really think I’m a disaster on wheels, and I just don’t know if I can handle that. I need to focus, need to keep my head on straight, need to?—

I feel her hand on my arm, and I crumble. I turn to look at her.

For a moment, it’s like the world stops. I look down at her, at her wistful blue eyes, and I’m taken back to the other night.

“Something’s wrong,” she says carefully. “Is it because I?—”

“No.” I shake my head, not wanting to hear the words. “No, Nora, it’s nothing you did, baby.” My gaze drifts to her mouth. Her perfect mouth.

I know I shouldn’t kiss her. I shouldn’t reach out for her. But it appears when I’m in her presence, I’m someone else. Someone I don’t know.

I reach for her, my fingertips gently touching her cheek. I let them trace her face until I touch her lips.