Page 69 of Three Pucking Ex's Brothers
15
NORA
I look at the clock,noting that it’s a little after midnight. Not particularly late, but I suppose I must have passed out after my wild orgasm.
Seriously, that was…
I notice that my hand is clutching my phone, and the screen is lit up.
And I’m…
Shit! I realize that I’m naked on the bed. My bones are achy and my head is killing me—probably from the sulfates in the wine. I note the bottle on the nightstand and pick it up. About half the bottle is gone.
Well, that explains the headache and the passing out.
Thank God it’s just me and the cat. I can’t imagine this would have ended well had I gone out…
At least there’s no one here to embarrass myself in front of. Not like the other night in front of Rush and Freddie.
I slide off the bed and grab my panties, throwing them on along with one of the large sweaters I purchased. I grab my phone, swiping to check my messages because my phone keeps going off with text chimes.
Maybe it’s Abby or Zayne.
I still haven’t told Abby all the details of what happened. I know I need to talk to her, if only to get a second opinion and to vent. About this whole situation. Brett, the cheating.
Rush and that kiss. Freddie and his surprises.
Tommy, and his opening up…
I don’t have any new texts from Abby or Zayne, though it looks like I have several from…
Brett.
My heart rises into my throat, because his isn’t the only name I see. In fact, I see Tommy, Freddie, and Rush. All with notifications.
But all I can settle on is Brett’s name. I don’t think, I just swipe to see the thread and nearly drop the phone when I see what I sent him.
A photo of me—dressed in my underwear and bralette. Oh my God.
Panic rises within me because I look like someone else. My hair is a messy mass of fire and my lips are open and parted as my dark eyes look through the lens, staring back at me as if to remind me toneverdrink again.
Good lord.
But it’s not just the photo that makes my heart stop. It’s Brett’s response.
Brett:Took you long enough.
No hi, hello, or what’s this. It’s almost like he’s being smug, like heexpected this.
Brett:Is this your way of saying you’re sorry, baby?
Sorry?
He thinks a picture of me in my fucking brand new underwear is anapology? I’m not the one who needs to apologize!
Fury heats my insides as I realize there’s something else after his text.
A…video.
