Page 67 of Don't Puck the Wrong Brother

Cade scrambles to his feet and lunges at his brother, tackling him to the ground. They grapple in the grass as everyone roars, years of sibling rivalry exploding into thrown fists and hard shoves. A circle of people forms around them, phones out to capture these brothers' brawling.

"Stop it!" I shout, but they're beyond hearing me now, throwing punches and insults at each other.

Sanderson gains the upper hand, pinning Cade beneath him. "I told you to walk away," he growls.

"And let you win? Again?" Cade struggles against his brother's hold. "Not this time, Sandy."

With a sudden burst of strength, Cade flips their positions, landing a solid punch to Sanderson's ribs. Sanderson grunts in pain but manages to block the next blow, shoving Cade off him.

They both scramble to their feet, circling each other like boxers in a ring. Blood trickles from Cade's split lip, and Sanderson's eye is already starting to swell.

"Enough!" I step between them, hands outstretched. "This is insane! You're brothers!"

"Move, Hannah," Sanderson says, his eyes never leaving Cade.

"No," I stand my ground. "This needs to stop! I'm not going to let you two tear each other apart over me. I'm not worth it!"

"She's right about that," Cade spits blood onto the grass. "She’s not fucking worth it."

Sanderson lunges forward, but I press my hands against his chest, stopping him. I almost stumble. "Sanderson, please. Let it go. Let’s leave."

For a moment, I think he's going to push past me. Then, slowly, the tension drains from his body. "Fine," he says, still glaring at Cade over my shoulder. "Let's go."

"You know I would kick your ass," Cade scoffs as we turn to leave. "This isn’t over yet, Sandy."

Sanderson doesn't respond, just places his hand on the small of my back and guides me away from the scene, away from the cameras and stares.

As we walk, I can feel him trembling slightly—with anger or adrenaline, I'm not sure. His knuckles are swelling, and a bruise is forming around his eye.

"Are you okay?" I ask quietly.

He glances down at me, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," he says instead of answering. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

"How was it supposed to happen?" I can't keep the edge from my voice. "You told him about us?"

"He called me last night, drunk. Said he wanted you back." Sanderson runs a hand through his hair. "I couldn't lie to him."

"So, you told him instead?"

"Just that we've been…seeing each other."

I stop walking, turning to face him fully. "Sanderson, what the hell are we doing? This—" I gesture between us, "—is clearly causing more problems than what it's worth."

His face falls. "Is that what you think? That this isn't worth it?"

"I don't know what to think," I admit, exhausted. "I just watched two brothers physically fight over me in the middle of campus. It's not exactly what I signed up for. That night with you was a huge mistake. It was supposed to be him that night!"

He pulls me around the corner. "Well, it was with me, Han. You fucked me! Not him. And I told you that night to keep this to yourself. I know my brother, knew that shit would hit the fan! I respected you for telling the truth, but don’t try to tell me that you wished you had fucked him instead."

"Sanderson," I inhale, trying to find the courage. "I fucked the wrong brother."

He scoffs. "Did you like what happened out there? With him?"

I shake my head.

"Then you didn’t fuck the wrong brother. Let’s go. I’ll walk you."

We walk the rest of the way to my dorm in silence, the weight of everything that's happened settling between us like a physical presence.

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