Page 33 of My Ex's Brothers

That kid is fucking adorable.

I nod in the direction of admin, gesturing for her to follow me. We walk together, bullshitting about the café, or all the places that are closed, or new places that have popped up since she’s been here. It’s strangely easy, and I swear it feels so comfortable it’s like I’ve known her forever, despite barely knowing her at all.

Considering we only met once before she and Dex left town, and the last time I saw her, I already had my tongue in her mouth.

That should be weird, right?

I mean, technically the list of weird things is up to a full hand right now.

She’s my stepbrother’s ex. Granted, we’re not related or anything, but it’s still a fucking obvious thing. Even if we don’t mention it, it’s there. Hovering like a devil over my shoulder.

She’s a hot, single mother. Like, really fucking hot. I know the fantasies that fill my brain about her are definitely borderline pervy. Her full breasts, sinful hips…those pouty, perfect lips…

Oh yeah, and I guess there’s the whole age thing too. Not that it matters to me since there’s only six years between us. It’s not like the fifteen-year age gap between her and Rich…

I shake my head, trying to dispel the thought ofRichardand Amelia in any kind of capacity like that. Knowing Dane is obsessed with her is bad enough.

Then, of course, there’s the fact that I know she’s not in the best place right now, I know that.

I also know what her tongue feels like in my mouth, but I don’t know what her favorite color is, or if she’s over my fucking asshole stepbrother dicking her over. And I don’t know how she feels about my feral stepbrother who’s plotting away over there like some lovestruck villain.

But despite all of that, I don’t give a shit. I know I should, but looking at Amelia, it’s hard to remember the why nots. Especially when she flashes those gorgeous eyes at me and blushes like a damn teenager. Because ofme.

Because she likes me. In a non-familial way, and she’s as terrified as I am to admit it.

A whistle stops us both in our tracks as we come to the landing at the bottom of the stairs. We both turn.

“Hey, sweetheart, what are you studying? How to be hot as fuck?”

The guy at the bottom of the stairs brushes past her, and it takes everything in me not to fucking punch this asshole.

Because I know him. He’s the idiot goalie for the Raccoons, Lance Danvers.

Amelia looks around, startled. “I don’t know who you’re talking to, but—” Her voice takes on a stern tone, the kind that reminds me of how teachers talk. Tokids.Like a condescending sort of kindness that implies the stupidity in ones actions, but with a saccharine tone to make it less of an insult.

“I’m talking to you, sweetheart,” he says, before he notices me next to Amelia. “Practice is the other way, Tripp.” Lance scoffs as I push him against the railing.

“Walk away, Amelia,” I tell her, my voice edged in command. “Now.”

“Tripp…” She places her hand on my arm, her palm warm and soothing. “It’s okay, just…”

Lance shakes out of my hold, glancing from me to her. His gaze is inquisitive, but also furious. “See you at practice,” he bites out, shouldering me off of him as he heads upstairs toward the gym.

Amelia lets out a heavy sigh, clearly flustered. “Oh my God, I am so sorry, I?—”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. Lance is an asshole.”

“Still, I don’t want to cause trouble for you, or…”

I run my hand down her arm until I find her hand and intertwine my fingers with hers. I know it’s a bold move, but the fact that she doesn’t push me away is all the confirmation I need. She squeezes my hand softly.

“This okay?” I ask, glancing up at her.

She nods, biting her lip. Fuck, why is that so sexy?

“Good,” I say, offering her a smile. “How long is your interview?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I mean…it’s not technically for another twenty minutes, and then I don’t know how long it’ll actually take, and?—”

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