Page 50 of Three Pucking Ex's Brothers

“Right,” I say, swallowing hard. I can’t take my eyes off of him, those words hitting me square in the chest, making my heart race.

Good girl.

I’ve never felt this sort of inkling, thisneedto hear those words. It’s like they settle something within me. Something I didn’t know existed. Something new and dark, and mysterious.

“Um…thank you again,” I say, my faculties coming back to me.

“Anytime, princess,” he says with a smirk as he gives me a solid wave before he turns his back on me and heads for the door, leaving me to my own devices, feeling more confused than ever.

11

NORA

When I finally get back toMichael’s with my clothes, my dinner—pasta takeout from Francesca’s with enough carbs to put me in a coma—and a fresh bottle of chilled wine, it’s nearing seven pm and I’m exhausted.

While I technically was scheduled until three, the rental car place called for Pam, and I offered to take her evening clients so she could go grab her rental, since the place closes early on weekdays. Abby had to drive her, so it was just Zayne and me until he left at four thirty—leaving me and the last client of the day, Mrs. Jones, there until damn near five forty-five. And seeing as I didn’t get lunch like I had planned on account of my stomach fluttering like a herd of butterflies in Freddie Sterling’s presence, I was more than starving by the time I got in my car.

My phone rings and I sigh as I lock the door, knowing that ringtone just about anywhere.

Michael, my brother.

I swipe to answer, hearing his warm, familiar voice.

“Hey, sis, how’s it hanging over there? How’s my sweet little ball of fluff doing?”

My brother’s cat, Pickles, darts down the hall on cue, as if he just knows my brother is on the other end of the phone. He meows away in protest.

“He misses you,” I say, smirking as I set my bags on the coffee table. I move to get my take-out boxes first, plopping down on the couch as I kick off my shoes and push open my container of pasta.

“Of course he does, tell him I miss him too,” Michael says in his baby-cat voice. I can’t help but smile.

“Tell him yourself,” I say as I put him on speaker. Naturally, he does, talking in his reserved-only-for-Pickles cat-voice, and I can’t help my grin as I watch Pickles watch the phone intently. I’ve always wanted a pet, but it never seemed the right time when I was on my own, and Brett didn’t want any pets or as he called them, “obligations.”

I never thought much of it, figuring that agreeing was best, but now…I’m not so sure.

When Michael’s done, I take him off speaker and he asks, “And how is my favorite little sister?”

I sigh, figuring now is as good a time as ever. Might as well put my big girl panties on and tell him the truth.

“Yeah…about that, I uh…Brett and I sort of broke up.”

“What?” He sounds shocked, and I can’t blame him. I’m still feeling the effects of saying those words too. “What happened? I thought?—”

“Yeah, me too, Mike.” I sigh. “I found Brett in bed with another woman. On our anniversary.”

“Shit,” my brother says. “Nora, I’m so sorry. That’s so messed up.”

I feel the tears festering once more at those words. But it’s not just the words, it’s the tone. The unspoken things.

I know my brother does feel bad for me, but it’s that sympathy, that sadness and disappointment, that hits me the hardest. Because somehow, it feels like I failed. Like he sees me as a failure, even though I know that’s not the case.

Michael’s always been my biggest supporter in life. Especially since our parents moved away to Florida to retire. Though it’s been hard to keep up with one another since he and Max, his boyfriend, have been traveling more recently and working on fixing up this house, which they bought last year.

“Yeah, me too.” I sniffle. “But, uh…I haven’t exactly figured out what I’m doing yet, you know. About my stuff, and the house is in Brett’s name, so?—”

“You know you can stay with me if you want, but it might be a little chaotic.”

I tense. It’s the wary way he says the words. Gingerly.