Page 55 of Three Pucking Ex's Brothers

Unless it’s the anniversary of their engagement. That’s the one day a year he gets totally shit-faced, and I know he thinks Tommy and I don’t notice, but we do. We just know it’s best to leave Freddie alone because that’s just how he is. He and Tommy are a lot alike in that way—they keep everything in and take it out on the ice. Or in Tommy’s case, on the field since he’s the only Sterling who can’t ice skate.

Me? I wear my fucking heart on my sleeve and I’m not ashamed of it. Holding shit in like Tommy Boy and Flash? That’s like shoving a Mentos in a can of Coke and putting the lid on.

Eventually, I’ll explode, and shit won’t be pretty.

I drop to the bench next to my brother, reaching for my water bottle, watching as Chris and some of our other teammates finish up their drills.

“You’re a fucking menace out there today,” I say between squirting water into my mouth, trying to catch my breath.

“No different than usual,” he says, but I can hear the bitterness in his voice.

“If this is about earlier, about Nora and I?—”

Freddie tenses, his shoulders tightening at the mere mention of her name. “Not everything is aboutyou,Russ.”

Liar.

“So it’s about Nora, then.”

Freddie glares at me.

“What? I said Nora and I, and you said it wasn’t aboutme, so…” I squirt some water on my head, running my hands through my hair as I try to cool off a bit.

No matter what any asshole tells you, hauling ass across the ice with all this equipment is a fucking workout in itself.

“Russ,” he breathes. “Just…let it go.”

He licks his lips, staring straight ahead through the plexiglass, watching Chris shoot the puck directly into the net. I know that look—the avoidant one. He wants to get back out there, probably to avoid this conversation, but I feel like we need to have it.

Not just this conversation about me and Nora, but about ourkiss.

I know it was a mistake, but I can’t stop thinking it wasn’t. Yeah, we were drunk, but she knew who I was. She knew I wasn’t Brett, and maybe she kissed me to get back at him or something, to prove a point. Which would mean I was nothing but a prop or an object to settle the score.

And that alone should piss me off, but it doesn’t.

The thought of beingusedby Nora—for anything—only makes my stupid cock twitch.

My memories aren’t the clearest, but I can remember some things. Primarily how I came in my fucking pants from making out with her, like I was a damn virgin who’d just discovered first base.

Because it wasn’t just a drunk mistake for me.

It was a year’s worth of pent-up frustration and fantasy. It was feelings I knew I shouldn’t have, stowed away so I wouldn’t cause problems for myself, Nora, or my brothers.

It was me, shedding my good boy decision and giving in to what I wanted.

Nora.

And though the memories are hazy at best, I swear she kissed meback.Drunk or not, shekissed me back.She saidmy name.That has to mean something, right?

“I don’t know if Icanlet it go, Fred,” I say honestly, and he groans, hanging his head.

“Fucking hell, Russ,” he bites out. “You need to. Not just for your sake, but for hers too.” He shakes his head. “For everyone.”

“Why?” I press. “Why should I lie about how I feel? She’s not withhimanymore, man. They broke up. Because hecheatedon her. She’s a free woman. She can make her own decisions about?—”

“The body isn’t even cold yet, Rush,” Freddie snaps. “You’re playing with fire, and if you keep pushing the envelope with Nora, you’re going to get burned.”

I watch the way his shoulders hunch, his jaw set.