Page 31 of Three Pucking Ex's Brothers

My cock jumps in my sweats because it’s morning, and because I’ve gotNoracurled up against me.

Like it should have been.

Like it always should have been…

I saw her first, technically—at one of Brett’s victory parties, but before I could swipe right, my brother did. He waltzed over to her and gave her his Captain Charisma “I’m Brett Sterling” smile, and the rest was history.

I never told Brett, of course. The only person who knows how I feel or what happened that night is Freddie. He’s always been my confidant, and that hasn’t changed. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel some sort of relief having someone to be able to talk to about the feelings I know I shouldn’t have.

It helps to be able to just…vent. To be able to gripe about my brother and how I don’t think he deserves her. Eleanor Brighton is the kind of woman you wife up fucking immediately.

Not the woman youcheaton with some other woman.

Fuck, Brett is an idiot, but me…

The way Freddie is looking at me—no, glaring at me—right now makes me feel like I’m not far off from the idiot label, myself.

I open my mouth, but no words come out. Nora stirs in my arms, and Freddie grunts, his shoulders tightening as he says, “I’ll be in the kitchen. Making breakfast.”

It’s the way he says the words. Sharp. Like knives.

He’s pissed.

Fuck.

My heart races as Nora shifts in my arms and Freddie gives me his back and heads for the kitchen. Her movement against my body makes my cock twitch, and I absentmindedly adjust myself under the blankets, realizing how fucking hard I am right now. Thank God Freddie couldn’t seethat.

I’m sure he’d kill me if he knew about my issue right now.

I shift away from Nora regretfully, because I don’t needherto see or feel my overactive cock right now. Not when I can barely remember what happened.

She opens her eyes and glances at me, and then I watch her pupils go wide.

Shit.

I fucked up, and I know it.

Whatever happened between us…shouldn’t have happened.

“Rush…” she says shakily as she sits up, pushing away from me. I hate it. Hate the feeling of her getting further away.

My stupid cock voices his protest too. But for the moment I’m thankful for the distance if only so she can’t see my damn cock trying to punch through my sweats right now. That would for sure be a bad thing. Not that I don’t want Nora to know how I feel, but…I know this situation is delicate.

I won’t pretend I’m not happy to hear she and Brett are broken up. I might be pissed at him because of what he did, but I also know how I feel. How it almost feels like the universe is trying tosend me some sort of message, push me toward what it knows I want more than anything.

But this situation is delicate. I know that. Whatever happened between us…well, we were drunk. That much I know.

But no matter how much I ransack my brain trying to remember, I can’t remember much beyond riding home with Freddie, and Nora throwing up on the side of the road…

“Nora.” I swallow hard. “Are you…okay?”

“I…” She runs a hand through her messy red waves, looking around the room. “I don’t know, I think so, I just…uh…”

She moves to the other side of the couch, pulling her knees to her chest. The blanket slips off of her, and in the morning light pouring through the living room, I can’t help but appreciate the view.

Even first thing in the morning, hungover, she’s breathtaking. Her bright red hair is messy, her waves more pronounced. Her pale skin contrasts beautifully with my boxy white tee, which does nothing to hide her nipples peaking through the fabric, likely because it’s early and it is a bit chilly in here.

Her blue eyes glance at me with panic. Fear.