Page 36 of My Ex's Brothers

“Don’t…” She shakes her head. “I’ll figure it out, I?—”

“No,” I tell her, shaking my head. “Not taking no for an answer.”

She sighs, burying her head in her hands.

My phone dings as Richie texts me back.

On my way.

I also note that I have about fifteen minutes to get to class early so I can set up for my presentation today.

I kneel in front of her, taking her hands in mine.

“Richard’s on his way,” I say, and her body tenses.

“What?”

“Richie. He’s the smartest dude I know when it comes to car trouble. Guy’s got a regular mechanical thumb or some shit. I swear if anyone will know how to get this thing running to get you home, it’s him.”

Amelia’s eyebrows furrow. “Tripp…”

“I wish I could help, but I don’t know shit about cars,” I admit. “Richie is the guy I call, so…”

She smiles, nodding. “Okay.” I don’t miss the worry in her voice. “I guess I’ll call Sam and let her know what’s going on and that I might be a little late.”

I squeeze her hand. “I’ve…got to go, but…I promise it’ll be okay, okay?”

Amelia nods. “Right, of course.”

I get up, pulling her with me. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her once more, just a quick peck, but she doesn’t stop me.

I’m glad she doesn’t.

“Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay,” she says as I let her go.

11

RICHARD

I’d just satdown after a hot shower when Tripp texted me. I had spent the majority of the morning the same way I always do. Training.

I don’t mind practicing with the guys, but my gym routine is a bit more intense than what they’re used to. Besides, I like to work out by myself, outside of the house because it’s my time to myself. Dane’s a homebody, literally I swear the guy never goes anywhere, and Tripp is starting to absorb some of that too.

I tell him all the time—he’s twenty-four, he needs to live it up while he can. I swear if I didn’t push that boy out the door he’d be much more sheltered than he is. And even though he’s my stepbrother, and technically I’m old enough to be his dad, I try to have a relationship with him. He’s a good kid. A little dumb at times, but what twenty-four-old isn’t?

So when he texts me asking for a favor, I groan. With Tripp, favors usually come in the form of “Can you fix it?” or “I need help with something.”

Gary, my stepdad…he’s not a bad guy. But Gary is the kind of guy who would rather pay someone to fix shit than do it himself. My dad wasadamantI know how to do it myself. I used to spend hours in the garage with him, learning everything I could. And if anything broke around our house, my dad had me by his side with the toolbox in a flash.

I miss him a lot. Especially the older I get. I’m pretty sure my therapist would say my dad’s death and my vasectomy decision go hand in hand, and maybe that’s true on some level. But I think sometimes it’s just bullshit.

Cancer sucks.

But I also know that the way things worked out, with my mom and Gary, and gaining a pain-in-the-ass baby brother, it wasn’t a terrible outcome.

I just need to remind myself of that when Tripp’s blowing up my phone because he needs something.

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