Page 18 of Worth the Wait

There were pictures. So many damn pictures.

In the first one, Addison was with her younger sister, Sarina, as a couple of douchey-looking dudes stood next to them on some red-carpet bullshit.

There were more photographs than I could stand, but I couldn’t fucking stop myself from looking at each and every one. Apparently, I enjoyed the torture.

In another one, Addi’s hand was on the dude’s biceps. Then, they walked inside together. In the next one, his lips were on her fucking hand, like she belonged to him, and I almost burned the damn house down.

I scrolled through the online gallery, taking it all in, one torturous vision at a time.

My breath had caught in my throat when I first saw Addi in that ruby-red dress, looking like a damn movie star. I preferred her in cutoff shorts and cowboy boots, but her beauty was undeniable in anything she wore. She looked like a New Yorker. Like a celebrity. And maybe she was now. Not like I’d know.

Tipping back the beer I grabbed, I put on “Chainsaw” by Nick Jonas as loud as my speakers would allow, making Jasper run away and hide. So, when my brothers suddenly appeared in my kitchen, I almost knocked them both out. I hadn’t expected company, and they scared the hell out of me.

“The fuck?” I shouted through my embarrassment.

“We’ve been knocking,” Thomas shouted at the same time that Matthew yelled, “Turn that shit off.”

I grumbled as I reached for my phone and hit pause on my music app right as Jasper started trotting out of my bedroom. He ran up to me first before pressing his nose into each one of my brother’s hands for acknowledgment. He could have warned me that they were here.

“Better?” I asked in a snide tone once the house was quiet. No one had invited them here in the first place.

“I’ve never hated a song more than I hate that one,” Matthew ground out. “You’ve ruined it for me. And Nick Jonas. I associate him with being miserable.”

That got a sick laugh to bubble up from my throat and out of my mouth. I was glad he hated it.

“It’s true. I can’t hear anything Jonas-related without my stomach clenching,” Thomas added with a shrug.

“Well, whoop-de-fucking-do. I’m so sorry I ruined Nick Jonas for you both.” I waved an arm in the air dramatically. “Why are you here?” I asked, but the answer came to me before they could even respond. “You saw the photos.”

“We saw the photos,” Thomas said.

I’d made the mistake of logging in to social media this morning. It was a rare occurrence, especially considering the fact that I hadn’t updated my account since Addi had left. But when I clicked on her name, out of habit or curiosity, and saw the pictures she had been tagged in, I thought I might break a tooth with how hard I started clenching my jaw.

Once I started down the rabbit hole, I couldn’t seem to stop. I knew everything about the dude she was photographed with. Some rich prick named Jamison, from Manhattan, who apparently did absolutely nothing except party. Every picture of him was at one social event or another. I was pretty sure the guy didn’t even have a job.

“Want to fly to New York and beat the guy’s ass?” Matthew asked as he pulled out a beer of his own and took a long pull. “I haven’t fought anyone in so long. I miss it.”

I did want that actually.

“I’m in,” Thomas said as he grabbed a beer as well and popped open the top.

I laughed. “You’re in? Brooklyn would have your ass.”

My older brother shook his head vehemently. “No, she wouldn’t. She’d understand. Probably buy us all first-class tickets,” he argued, and maybe he was right.

“Please say yes,” Matthew started practically begging. “I need to hit someone soon. I can feel it.”

“Hockey turned you weird.” I shot him a look as I moved my hair out of my eyes.

“It let me take out my aggression without getting in trouble. I mean, aside from a few penalties here and there.” He grinned. “I love fighting.”

“He’s right. You’re weird,” Thomas agreed.

“You two are weird,” Matthew piped up in his typical response that mimicked whatever we’d said to him. “And mean.”

“Here we go,” I groaned.

For as tough as my baby brother was, sometimes, he needed to man the fuck up.

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