Page 43 of My Ex's Brothers

“It’s not that simple,” I tell him, my voice barely a whisper.

We walk in silence to the car, and I think maybe this is it. Maybe I’ve just fucked everything up for good this time. He stops and opens my door before I can get my hand to the handle. He sighs heavily as he nods for me to get in.

I do so without hesitation.

A moment later, he takes his seat, closing his door, but he doesn’t turn the car on. Instead, he turns and looks at me.

“Just…think about it, okay?” he says, not giving me a chance to respond before he turns the radio on and pulls out of the parking lot, leaving a thick tension in the air.

I text Sam as soon as I get into the car, telling her what happened. Though I feel more on the spot than ever telling her Richard is the one who came to my rescue and gave me a ride. Of course, she gives me hell that I could have called her, and honestly, I could have.

I should have told Tripp and Rich that I could handle this on my own, but…

But I also didn’t want to be rude when Tripp offered to help. And then Rich showed up, and…

The whole way home, I can’t stop thinking about what he said, or that moment when he leaned in. At the restaurant. The moment I could smell his scent, feel the warmth of his breath on my skin.

I can’t deny that Richard Rose pisses me off. But I can’t deny that beneath his infuriating asshole-ishness, there’s a part of me that likes that. His audacity, his utter indifference, the way he just says what he wants without repercussion.

And isn’t it every woman’s dream for a big, hot, older man to sweep her off her feet and take care of her?

Maybe.

But I also know that what he’s proposing isn’t anything beyond just support. He’s family. Well, sort of. He’s Lyla’s family…

Which makes me stop dead in my train of thought and I turn to look at him just as we pull up to my apartment.

He turns the car off, and I think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just gets out of the car, opens my door, and waits.

And suddenly I feel the strangest wave of guilt.

He’s just trying to help, I tell myself. He didn’t have to show up when Tripp called, didn’t have to call a tow, didn’t have to buy my lunch, and he certainly didn’t have to drive me home after I was so standoffish.

“Thank you,” I say as I get out of the car, biting my lip. I don’t look at him directly, because I can’t. I shut the door quietly as he breathes heavily.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says.

I steal a glance up at him, feeling my stomach turning with embarrassment.

“Walk me to the door?” I ask, but it’s as if the words in my throat that I really want to say are stuck.

I’m sorry.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Rich says, his tone somewhat softer, but still with that raspy edge that makes my insides warm.

I let him walk me to my door.

“Sam should be by soon…” I say, looking up at him. Part of me wants to invite him in, if only to be polite. But the other part wants to keep him out, keep him from seeing the truth. It’s one thing for him to suspect me, it’s another to see the reality of his words.

“Text me if you need anything,” he says as he leans in close to me. He captures my gaze with his, his jaw firmly set. The sunlight catches the slivers of silver in his hair, lighting him up like fire.

It’s impossible not to let out the soft sigh that escapes my throat. Not when he smells like this, not when he islookingat me like this.

“Uh-huh,” I say, because all of a sudden, I forget how to speak.

Richard nods, licking his lips as he takes a step backward, and the air rushes in.

Gone is the suffocating feeling, the warmth and the draw of Richard Rose.

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