Page 57 of Three Pucking Ex's Brothers

I know I should text her. Call her, maybe.

We should probably talk about what happened if only to smooth things over, because the last thing I need is for her to think I took advantage of her or something. I don’t want her to think all of us Sterlings are creeps or assholes like Brett.

I bring up her thread, my finger hovering over the text bar. The last text she sent me was last year when she asked for my address for some picnic thing we had at my house.

The sight hurts my damn heart more than it should. Because I realize that as into Nora as I am—and I amveryintoher and her bright eyes, her luscious curves, and her sweet-as-pie demeanor—we haven’t really hung out much outside of family stuff.

Part of me wants to ask her out, even though I know I shouldn’t.

I hate to admit that Freddie is right—my feelings are dangerous. Single or not, I should be respectful of the fact that she just got out of a relationship, with my brother no less.

But brothers be damned, I can’t help but feel this pull, this magnetic draw to Nora.

I’m not drunk enough to ignore my conscience tonight, though. I drain my drink as I slide my phone back in my pocket.

“What’s got you all blue in the balls, bro?” Chris asks as he plops down next to me in the lounge chair, presenting me with a fresh drink. Joey, Carter, and Nix are all on the dance floor—as usual—trying their damndest to be small town celebrities. It’s a feat I used to admire, but the older I get, the more I feel like it’s not as cool as it used to be. But then again, they’re all in their early twenties, and me? I’m closer to thirty than I am to twenty-one now.

God, I sound like Freddie. Maybe he’s rubbing off on me in more ways than one.

“Nothing,” I lie as I take the drink from him and suck down nearly half of it in one gulp. I’ve lost track of how many of these I’ve had, but nothing seems to be helping my sour mood or my thoughts about Nora.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with that woman you met at the bar last night? The one you were dancing all over before you left?” I blink as he shoots finger guns at me. “Ah. So it is…”

“She’s not just a woman,” I correct him. “She’s my brother’s ex-girlfriend.”

“Oh, forbidden fruit, huh?” Chris says humorously, but I’m not laughing.

Yeah, maybe I am hanging around Freddie and his grumpy ass too much. Or he’s just infecting my brain.

“It’s not like that,” I say defensively.

Chris must notice my lack of laughing, his eyebrows furrowing as he says, “Shit, man, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know. It’s just…”

“Complicated?” Chris asks, taking a sip of his beer.

I take a swig of my drink. “Yeah.”

“That’s why it’s better to be single, my friend,” Chris says, his lustful gaze following a tall, blonde woman who walks by. “Less complications, the better.” His gaze is fixated on her ass.

I used to feel the same way, but for the last year, I’ve found myself feeling more and more out of place as a single twenty-five-year-old athlete than I ever have before.

My last girlfriend and I were only together for a few months before she broke up with me because she said she couldn’t see a future with me. At the time, I just felt insulted, but then I realized I didn’t see a future with her either.

In fact, I didn’t see a future withanyone,and maybe that was my problem.

If I wanted to get married and have kids someday—and I do want those things—then I rationalized that maybe I needed to look for a woman Icouldsee myself building a life with. One that didn’t just involve hockey, but that included things like late-night summer bonfires and camping trips and movie nights with trays of popcorn and candy…

Maybe I would feel differently if I hadn’t grown up watching my parents be the most nauseatingly sweet couple this side of Virginia. Despite their age gap, they both act like they’re two teenagers in love, to this day.

I know their relationship was a fucking scandal when it started—what with my mom being barely twenty years old and having left Brett’s dad for my dad when Brett was only four. She had Brett when she was sixteen, and then met my dad and got pregnant with Freddie barely three months into their relationship—but despite all the rumors, the ups and downs…

They love each other so much. So fucking much, and if I could even find one iota of what they have, I would be happy.

No, being single doesn’t feel as good as it used to. Because I wantmorethan to just be bouncing from mattress to mattress all across the states, bagging puck bunnies in every area code. I want to comehometo a womanwho can’t wait to see me—not my brother.

Not that I hate coming home to see Tommy, but…I want someone tolove.Someone to cuddle on the couch with and watch Netflix with—reallywatchNetflix, not just make out and get steamy with.