Page 5 of Five Brothers

And Milo Price. My ex-boyfriend. The two men I’ve slept with.

I always thought it would be only one. When I was twelve, I imagined my true-love experience would be passionate kisses on seaside cliffs as my dress blew in the wind. He would be a poet. And secretly a duke. With a castle. Like, I literally thought that’swhat would happen, because I had lofty ideas and never figured in my desperation for attention.

But that’s not what happened. I was a sophomore, invited with some friends to junior prom, which ended at a party where I gave it up to my boyfriend on a stranger’s bed, and it was all over in eleven minutes.

I’ve slept with two men.

And counting.

Trace won’t be the last.

“Other guys will do what you do to me,” I murmur.

“Exactly like me?”

“Probably harder.”

He snorts, sitting back in his seat. “Well, you know you can still come over when you need a break from your future husband five or ten years from now. When you need it good and dirty.”

He’s trying to make me smile, but I don’t. I look out the window instead.Ten years from now …God, will I still need him in order to feel alive?

An image flashes in my head, but almost immediately I realize it’s not my mother. It’s me. With her hair. In her clothes. In her life.

He tries to take my hand. “Come here.”

I resist.

“Come here,” he whispers.

But gently, I pull my hand away before he can take it.

Trace is a people pleaser. He hates anyone being mad at him. Comes from years of dodging four older brothers who are all tornadoes.

Macon, Army, Iron, and Dallas.

His sister, Liv, dates my best friend, Clay, but Liv is pretty calm compared to the rest of the Jaegers. Which I’m surealsocomes from years of dodging five older brothers who are all tornadoes. She loves them all, though.

Their parents died within two months of each other more than eight years ago. The oldest, Macon, was forced to leave the military to come home and raise his siblings. Trace’s older brothers are pretty much his only memories.

“We could go on a date,” he says. “You have my money.”

“You mean your allowance?” I pluck the folded bills out of my breast pocket—a twenty on the outside and, knowing him, it’s probably a one on the inside. I hand it back before pulling my underwear on.

He returns the bills to his pocket. “I’m a man who makes his own living, thank you.”

Mm-hm.“I’m not letting you take me on a date out of guilt.”

“Well, I’m still up for sex, too,” he adds, flashing his adorable smile. “I mean, this was all your idea, and you got me pretty worked up.” He gestures to the hard-on in his jeans. “The part where you robbed me was pretty hot.”

I force a frown, but only because I’m mad that I want to smile. He’s trying hard to make me feel better, and for some reason, I feel an urge to let him know his effort is appreciated.

Turns out, I’m a people pleaser, too.

“I was trying to be tough like your sister and Clay,” I mumble, teasing.

I thought I was doing well, but now, I don’t know.

He touches my face. “I’m glad you’re not violent,” he says quietly. “I like that you’re soft with people. Don’t change that.”

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