Page 5 of My Ex's Brothers

Amelia rushes around picking things up, and I stand there like an idiot, taking it all in. The boxes, the wet wipes on the kitchen table, the quiet evidence of the chaos that is her life.

The life my brother should have valued more than he did.

I slide my hands into my pockets, watching as she gathers her things. Our eyes catch one another, and the unspoken truth between us hangs in the air.

I think about Amelia all the time. I haven’t stopped thinking about Amelia since that night. How it should have beenme.How that night, if my brother hadn’t shown up, things might be different now.

Instead, like always, Dex couldn’t stand to let me have something, someone, for myself. No, my brother has always been a greedy bastard with everything in life, and clearly he hasn’t changed. And now Amelia is one of those things he’s discarded because his arms can only hold so much.

What kind of asshole keeps amarriageand four kids a secret? Not just from the women in his life, but from his family?

My brother, obviously.

The reporters finally stopped when Richie threatened to punch one in the face. It’s bad enough my brother did what he did, but his choices affected more than just the women in his life. They soured our name too.

Once, I was known for my own accolades, and now half the time I get mistaken for the man who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or tell the truth to save his life.

And of all people…I thought he would have toldmethe truth. But I guess I was wrong.

Mom keeps saying she wants to reach out to the women, I think because she feels responsible in some way, but I’m not sure any of us are ready to deal with the repercussions of that. The only woman Dex ever brought home was Amelia, so what are the chances the others even know about us, since we had no clue about them? Probably slim to none.

“Okay, so I just put her down, so she should be okay until I get back,” Amelia says as she leads me down the hall to a small room with a pack-n-play.

I stop dead in my tracks as I peer over the edge of the pack-n-play. Amelia sent me photos of Lyla, but I’ve never actually seen her up close, in the flesh.

She’s so…tiny. But she definitely has her mother’s long, dark eyelashes, and the trademark Rose birthmark just below her ear.

She lies there, her tiny chest rising and falling so peacefully, and I can’t help but be enamored by her.

“Right,” I say, blinking and shaking my head. “Piece of cake.”

I offer Amelia a soft smile, noting how she takes her bottom lip in between her teeth.

“Thank you,” she says, but I can tell the words are difficult for her. Not because she’s ungrateful or anything, but…I know it’s got to be awkward, staring at my damn face right now. At least on the other end of a text, she can pretend I’m not…him.

I’m not my brother, but genetics can be a bitch sometimes.

I settle my hand on the edge of the pack-n-play, taking a stop closer to her. Her gaze flashes up to meet mine—after all, I’m a good six foot two and she’s barely five foot four.

But she holds my gaze steady.

“Of course,” I say, my voice cracking only slightly. I tap my fingers against the bar, offering her a genuine smile. “Good luck, Mia.” The words are as normal as can be, but the way I say them feels more like an exposure of my heart than encouragement.

What I really want to say is sorry.

I’m sorry my brother’s an asshole.

I’m sorry, it should have been me. I would have never let you go.

“You’re going to be late if you don’t get going,” I say, tearing my gaze away from the beautiful woman before me.

Part of me wants to tell her she doesn’t need to go to any interview, or work at all, because every instinct in me wants to swoop in and carry her off to my place. I want to do what my brother obviously couldn’t—Iwantto take care of her and Lyla because they deserve better.

But I also know I can’t overstep my boundaries with Amelia. Giving is in my nature, unlike my brother, but the last thing I want to do is drive away the woman who I’ve been in love with for the last year, unbeknownst to anyone except my damn houseplants.

I know that the coals of the fire that was her relationship with my brother are still hot. I can’t expect her to jump back into a relationship, let alone a relationship with her ex’s fucking twin, when things are still fresh and bloody.

And I really can’t expect her to understand that I’ve been harboring these feelings since the night I met her. Talk about a stage-five clinger.

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