Page 110 of Extra Dirty

Our story.

Our future plays out in front of me. I can picture every second of it. Like him, I want to skip past the fake dates. I yearn for the day I can tell the world that this man is mine. That I’m his and I always have been.

“Isn’t this cozy?” A harsh voice snaps me from my daydream.

When I turn, I find Carter standing at my door, wearing a scowl.

“Already perfecting the act, I see,” he sneers. “Having breakfast together? What’s next, waking up in her apartment?”

Jay doesn’t turn around. He keeps his focus locked on me as he smiles. “Probably.”

I huff. “Carter, what are you doing here?”

“I thought maybe I could talk to my sister, but considering you’re hanging out with the enemy by choice, I suppose that means you’re against us now.”

Dropping my fork, I glare at my brother. But before I can respond to his tantrum, Carter pushes in and grabs Jay’s shoulder. “Where’s my child?”

Jay runs his tongue over his lip slowly. “Apologize to your sister, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

Carter grunts. “Get over yourself. You don’t care about her. You don’t care about anything except your dick, so she must be fucking you again.”

Jay’s chair scrapes against the floor as he hauls himself to his feet. The sound is jarring, but it’s the sound of Carter’s head smacking the brick wall when Jay slams him against it that makes my stomach drop.

“Jay, stop,” I cry.

“That’s my fucking life you’re talking about,” Jay grits out, pointing at me. His face is red, and his expression murderous. “The love of my fucking life. My future wife. So do me a favor; don’t even look at her until you can show her some goddamn respect.”

Carter gives a disgruntled laugh. “Fuck you.” Then his eyes find mine. “And fuck you too. You make me sick. You’re destroying our family.”

I sob when Jay pushes him again. At the sound, he lets go of my brother and strides over to me. With a comfortingshh, he holds me in a strong embrace.

My ability to cry has returned since Jay came back into my life. It’s like I’d frozen into an icicle and lived that way for years, but now that the warmth of the man who loves me has returned, I’m slowly melting. While I hate feeling weak, it’s better than feeling nothing.

I suck in a harsh breath and borrow courage from the man holding me tight. Over his shoulder, I meet my brother’s cold stare. “For thirty years, I’ve given you grace because I know you’re hurt. Maybe more than any of us. But she would be devastated to see what you’ve become. Change, Carter. Or stay out of my life. The choice is yours, but I’m done being your punching bag.I’m done.” I bury my face in Jay’s chest and loop my arms around his waist, knowing full well that I may have to choose between him and my brothers. But the truth is, it’s not a choice. Jay and Chloe are my family. These arms are my home.

50

EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED BY TAYLOR SWIFT AND ED SHEERAN

Jay

Iglide across the ice fast, zigzagging past Kevin. Beside me, Hayden keeps pace, ready for me to line up the shot. As Beckett barrels toward me, I shoot the puck to the side, and Hayden slices his stick hard against the ice, sending the puck spiraling straight at the goal. Gavin tries to stop it, but as the puck hits the net with a whoosh, both Hayden and I throw our hands up in the air and whoop in excitement.

“Fuck yeah!” I scream, adrenaline coursing through my body. Everything seems to be going my way lately.

Beckett grumps as he skates up to me, but he offers me his glove. “Nice play,” he says as I bump my glove with his.

Amid a little friendly gloating and grumbles, we head toward the sidelines and make quick work of taking off our gear.

“How’d last night go?” Gavin asks as he grabs waters from the cooler next to the bench.

I smile and accept the one he holds out to me. “Couldn’t have gone better.” I squeeze a stream of water into my mouth and grin. “And my daughter, fuck, she’s smart. And pretty. God, the kid is perfect.”

Garreth gives me a rare smile. “When do we get to meet her?”

I sigh. I’m ready to move to the next step. Hell, I’m ready for everything, but I can’t push. “Who knows. It’s her birthday this weekend. She’s going to be twelve.”

“Fuck, almost a teenager. Damn, we’re old,” Beckett mutters. “I can’t imagine having a kid.”

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