“You’ve never been more lovely.”
Ugh, my heart. This man.
On the surface, he looks like a classic bad boy—playing bass in a band, covered in tattoos, the wayward hair. If you searchedtroublein the dictionary, I’m sure you’d find his picture. He’s the type of boy your mother warns you about. But underneath it all, he’s unbelievably sweet. So attentive and observant—he’s the kind of person who surprises you with how deeply he cares.
Lucas was always charming. He would easily win people over with his poetic words, but that’s all they ever were—words. James is different. He’s thoughtful, and doesn’t just say the right things but takes action. He pours his whole heart into everything he does, chasing after what he wants with unwavering determination. James isn’t the type to wait for you to ask for help—he gives it without prompting.
Shit. Lucas’s message.
The reminder burns through me like a searing flame. I’m sitting here, having breakfast after being fucked by his little brother, completely distracted, and I haven’t even opened his bloody message yet.
“I can see the cogs turning in your brain.” James’s gruff voice cuts through my spiralling thoughts.
“Huh?”
“What are you thinking about?”
“I suppose … I’m wondering what happens now.”
He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we’ve slept together … I just don’t know what it means,” I say, searching his eyes for an answer.
“What it means?” he says. “Well, it was amazing. It doesn’t have tomeananything right now. We enjoyed ourselves, right?”
I swallow a lump in my throat and nod.
“So, we’ll figure it out. We don’t need to rush anything.”
I jerk my chin, unable to speak as panic unfurls in my chest.
“Hey,” he says, shifting my stool to face him. “Sweetheart, look at me.”
I can’t.
I can’t look at him.
I know he’s right.
He’s not putting any pressure on this situation; he’s been nothing short of amazing. But I just sat here and compared sex with this beautiful man to sex with hisbrother.
I try to convince my nervous system that everything’s fine. But Lucas’s message wraps around me like tungsten chains.
What could he possibly have to say to me?
And why did he have to send it the morning afterI had sex with his brother?
God. This is a mess.
I’ma mess.
Does this make me a terrible person?
My heart rate spikes, and a wave of panic crashes over me, panting as I near hyperventilation.
What have I done?
This isn’t me—I don’t sleep with people I don’t love, let alone someone who was supposed to be my future brother-in-law.
