Page 8 of Don't Puck the Wrong Brother

I grab Sanderson's hand as he stands, my breathing suddenly shallow and rapid. My stomach convulses.

"I... can't... breathe..."

He takes both my hands in his as my entire body begins to shake. I'm drowning in air, unable to draw enough oxygen no matter how desperately I gasp.

He cups my face between his palms. "You're having a panic attack. It's okay. It's okay. Tell me your name."

"Hhhh—" I look up at him, and his hands move to my neck. The contact anchors me for a moment before revulsion takes over. I shove him away, and he catches my fingers instead. "Han—"

"Hannah?" he says, his voice gentle. And the way he says my name is so fucking unfair because I just had the most intense sexual experience of my life with my boyfriend's brother and he should not be this calm, this collected. Why isn't he falling apart beside me? If I had accidentally slept with my sister's boyfriend, the world would end. This is just as catastrophic. I will never forgive myself. I can never face Cade again.

I stand up, shaking my hands as if I could physically cast off the feeling of him, the memory of our connection. I need to erase him from my skin, from my memory.

"Is he really on the couch?" I ask, trying to steady myself. I'm still struggling for air, but words are possible now.

"I don't give a shit, Hannah. Stay right here, I'm going to get you water. Don't pass out while I'm gone."

I move in front of him before he can leave, drawing a painful breath as I meet his eyes. What I see there surprises me—genuine concern, worry. Something in me fractures, and I step forward, pulling him into a hug. He hesitates briefly before his arms wrap around me, solid and secure.

"What the fuck did I just do?" I sob, tears finally breaking free. They stream down my face, hot against my chilled skin. "Why?" I cry into his chest, the question meant for the universe more than for him.

He tightens his hold, and I feel every plane and contour of his body against mine. If he's anything like Cade in character, he'll listen, he'll understand, he'll help me find a way through this impossible situation.

I cling to him, needing this connection, this human anchor in the storm of my emotions. I pull him closer, squeezing him as my tears soak his shirt. I have no idea how to process what's happened. The thought of what I’ve just done sends a fresh wave of guilt through me, and my tears fall harder. The thought of breaking up with Cade before we even got started is fucking devastating.

My tears won’t stop falling.

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Chapter 4

Hannah is surprisingly real. That's the first thought that cuts through the chaos in my mind as she clings to me like she's drowning. Her body trembles against mine, and I can feel each sob ripple through her—raw and unfiltered grief over a mistake neither of us saw coming.

I don't know who's to blame here, or if blame even matters at this point. What happened, happened. A series of coincidences lined up perfectly to create this catastrophe, and now we're both standing in the wreckage, trying to make sense of it.

Her immediate decision to break things off with Cade reveals more about her character than any words could. There's an integrity there I rarely encounter. I respect her for it, even as I grapple with the reality that I just slept with my brother's girlfriend because I thought I was fucking dreaming.

Thank God she's holding onto me like this. It's been months—hell, maybe years—since I've experienced a genuine human connection like this one. Not the fleeting physical connection of a hookup or the camaraderie of teammates, but something honest. She needs me in this moment, and at the very fucking least, I can be this anchor for her because we're both equally fucked.

Cade absolutely cannot know about this. And it's not about saving my own ass—it's about protecting him. I know how my little brother operates. He'll immediately cast me as the villain, accuse me of wanting everything he has, of deliberately taking what's his. The worst part is he'll distance himself from me again, just when we'd finally started rebuilding what we lost. I don't want that, not over a stupid mistake, one night that should never have happened.

How the fuck did this even happen? That's what I can't wrap my head around. One minute, he's calling my name from the doorway, and the next, I'm inside his girlfriend. The middle part is a blur, reality and dream bleeding together until I couldn't tell the difference. I don't remember anything before being inside her, but fucking hell, I need to get my story straight for when shit inevitably hits the fan, because this embrace is telling me volumes about what's at stake.

I hold her as she sobs, her body shaking against mine. Without thinking, I look down at the crown of her head, her hair catching the faint light from the bathroom. I press my lips gently against it, an instinctive gesture of comfort.

She shoves me away with surprising force. "Don't fucking kiss me!"

I grab her hand to keep from stumbling backward. "I'm sorry," I say in disbelief, but I mean it.

Tears continue to stream down her face, and call me fucked up, but she's mesmerizing when she cries. Not in a twisted way—there's just something about her. She's beautiful in a way that feels otherworldly. A fairy. A goddess. Someone who stepped out of a dream I didn't know I was having.

My chest aches looking at her, and suddenly I understand why my brother hasn’t mentioned he had a girlfriend. Hannah, with her rich brown hair and matching eyes, those full lips trembling, the perfect angles of her face. She doesn't need makeup to look beautiful, no lingerie to look sexy—it's those eyes. The depth of them, the way they reveal everything she's feeling, her bottom lip I have to force myself not to imagine on mine. My come is all over this girl, and I feel a painful responsibility for what happens from here on out.

"Do you want to go home?" I ask softly.

She nods frantically, like a prisoner who's just been offered freedom.

I want to tell her that despite everything, she's beautiful and that somehow this will be okay. But I know better. I need to keep my distance now. Girls like her wouldn't look twice at someone like me under normal circumstances, and I know this because Cade and I have always been drawn to different types of women.

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