Page 59 of My Ex's Brothers

But for now, for this moment, I feel like it’s okay to just breathe. I have a place to stay and I canbreathe.

That is, until I hear the faint sounds of music drifting on the wind. I open my eyes, looking around for the source, smirking when I see the lights on through the garage windows. I saunter over to the detached garage slowly, the music getting louder as I approach, until I’m outside the door. I stand there for the briefest moment, noticing my Jeep, hood open, with Rich bent over the side, his face hidden so I can’t see him. But what I can see is his thick shoulder muscles working overtime, and his ass standing out pronounced against the light of the garage in those dark-wash jeans with an oiled rag hanging out the back pocket.

I bite my lip, appreciating the view, before he comes out from beneath my hood. When he looks up, he just smirks.

“See something you like, baby girl?” he asks.

“Maybe,” I say carefully. “That depends on if you have any updates about my car.”

Rich runs an oiled hand through his hair, shaking his head.

“Well, I do have an update, but you probably aren’t going to like it.”

My smile falters as he wipes his hands on his rag, taking one stop toward me.

“Why not?”

“Well, like I said, itisthe catalytic converter, which Icanget, but it’s going to take at least four weeks to get it into Harry’s shop for me to pick it up.”

“Four weeks?” I say, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Richie nods. “Unfortunately, yes. The model of your car is…well, they stopped making parts for your car on account of recalls, so finding an exact fit isn’t impossible, but it is not an easy feat, and because it’s not easy…”

“It’s going to be more expensive and take more time.” I sigh, leaning back against his workbench. I shake my head, reality settling in. That means at least for the next four weeks I’ll be without a car. I’ll need one of them to help me out. Going to the store, on interviews…

Panic starts to surge and I suck in a breath, covering my face with my hands. Then panic gives way to anxiety and when I open my mouth to speak, words don’t come out. Only short, stunted sobs.

“Hey…” Richie says, his demeanor shifting completely. Strong, thick, rough hands find mine, pulling them from my face. “Don’t cry, it’ll be fine, I?—”

But his words only make me cry more.

How is it that everything can change so fast?

16

RICHARD

Shit.She’s crying.

Because of me.

I sigh in frustration as I take two steps forward.

“Amelia…” I reach for her, but she pulls away, shooting those crestfallen eyes on me like lasers.

“I need my car,” she mewls. “I can’t afford a new one, and I can’t put any of you out any more than?—”

“Stop,” I say, my hands sliding over her arms as I pull her over to the couch in the corner.

Dane and Tripp have their spaces in the house, but my space has always been the garage. Maybe it’s because my dad and I used to work on cars together when I was younger. Before he passed away. Maybe it’s just because when my brain is going a mile a minute, it’s the one place no one bothers me, who the hell knows.

But I’m thankful right now for the privacy, because I know Dane would probably be a basket case if he saw Amelia sobbing right now.

My brother is tightly wound. Always has been.

But both Tripp and I know he’s different when it comes to Amelia. Tightly wound becomes practically bordering on asphyxiation.

“Sit down,” I say sternly as I pull her to the couch. She looks like she wants to fight me. Argue with me. But she doesn’t, and that is a start.

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