Page 11 of Off Limits
Good morning, Princess. Thank you! Thank you for last night. It was amazing. YOU are amazing. I will treasure it for as long as I am breathing. B.
She lifted the paper from the counter and pressed it to her heart. Brady could be the sweetest person on the planet. He paid attention even when no one thought he was. He knew she loved croissants and raspberry jelly. He knew her favorite flowers were anything wild—beach sunflowers, black-eyed Susans, or the blanket flowers.
Despite his hard exterior and his broody attitude, he had a softness at his core. At least he did with her. Tears welled in her eyes. If it were up to him, last night would be it between them.
She’d been one of the lucky ones—one of the few he’d let in. Over the years, he’d confided in her, shared pieces of his past he kept hidden from the world. Stories of an abusive father and an absentee mother. He’d once told her about a time his father had beat him to within an inch of his life and he’d spent a night in the hospital and several weeks in foster care. His stories twisted her heart into knots.
He’d tell her how lucky she was to have parents who loved her, a brother who had her back, a home where she was never truly alone. There was always a weight in his voice when he said it. A quiet kind of longing.
His honesty only pulled her closer. She wanted to be his friend, his confidante, the person he could lean on when everything else felt like too much.
More than anything, she wanted him to know he wasn’t alone.
The saddest part? He didn’t believe he deserved to be loved.
And yet she loved him anyway. Fiercely. Fully. Probably always had.
She pulled a coffee mug from the cupboard and poured a steaming cup.
Ah! The first sip was always the best. Even more so when made by the man she’d been head over heels for since she was fifteen.
Setting her cup down, she snatched a croissant from the plate and tore it apart. The butter flavor burst on her tongue at first bite. She twisted off the top of the jelly jar and dipped the pointed edge of the pastry into the jelly. The tartness of the jelly contrasted perfectly with the light and flaky croissant. The perfect way to start the New Year, albeit alone.
A knock at the front door startled her. Who the heck would be here this early in the morning on New Year’s Day? Maybe Brady forgot something? She set the pastry back on the plate, folded Brady’s note and stuffed it in her pajama pants pocket.
She peered out the window of her front door. All she could see was the top of his head but she’d recognized that ruffled dirty blonde hair anywhere. Her brother. Rex.
It’s a good thing Brady made an early exit. If Rex had found Brady here in last night’s clothes, the top of his head would pop clean off. She knew her brother was an issue—always had been when it came to her love life. No one was ever good enough. Not even close.
And Brady? He’d made it clear Rex had warned him to stay far, far away from her. Which only made what they’d done last night feel riskier. And somehow, more inevitable.
She inhaled a deep breath and flung the front door open. “Rexy, what are you doing here at this hour?”
“At this hour?” He laughed. “It’s after 11:00. Are you just waking up?” He pushed past her into the house.
She blinked. After 11:00? She hadn’t even glanced at the clock in the kitchen or looked at her phone, too wrapped up in her memories of last night. She’d assumed it wasn’t past 8:00. She never slept in. Though she also never performed a sex marathon before either. Her cheeks heated just thinking about the things they’d done.
“I guess you are just waking up.” Rex grabbed a croissant from the plate and tore into it.
“Hey. Those are mine.” She reached for the pastry in his hand but he yanked it away.
“You won’t eat three croissants.” He shoved the rest in his mouth and chewed.
“You’re such a brat.” She walked over to the coffee pot. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” Rex mumbled through his chewing.
She removed a cup from the cupboard and poured Rex’s coffee. Moving to the island, she slid it across the counter. “Creamer is in the fridge.”
She watched her brother move about. He seemed tired.
“What brings you here? I can’t imagine you rung in the New Year by yourself. I saw you chatting up that blonde last night.”
His cheeks pinkened. “I had an enjoyable evening, but I don’t know. I’m kind of over the bed hopping scene.”
“What? Rex Bancroft is tired of one-night stands and random girls?” She feigned a fainting spell with the back of her hand to her forehead. “I don’t believe it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Knock it off.”
