Bryan turns, his face is stone and he glares at me with burning, reproachful eyes. “I am not, nor will I ever be, your brother.”
“Eh,” I say, shrugging him off. “Semantics.”
Bryan steps toward me with his finger poised in my direction. “The joke is over, Jennings. Leah confessed that the marriage is a fake, which thank fuck it is, otherwise I’d have her at the courthouse getting an annulment.”
Now, I laugh. “Under what pretenses?”
“Stupidity.”
“Whatever. You’re just pissed because she went on a date with me, behind your back. Your issue with me, is with me. Leave your sister out of it.”
Bryan throws his hands up in the air and lets out a guttural groan. “Your head is so far up your ass you can only see your own shit.”
Nice analogy.
“Look, you had your night of fun, you screwed my sister. Yay, Jennings, you win. But enough is enough. The game is over.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong, Nelson. This isn’t a game to me. I’m in love with your sister.”
“No, you’re obsessed with me. You need professional help.”
I scoff. “You’re full of yourself. For years you’ve seen nothing but my backside in every competition. Stop being jealous and stop controlling who your sister sees. She’s an adult and capable of making her own decisions.” I walk toward the door, determined to boot his ass out of my room.
“I told her,” he says, stopping me in my tracks.
“Told her what?”
“The women, the party, and the threat.”
My forehead rests against my door while a slew of swear words run through my mind. My hand clenches into a fist and as much as I’d love to punch Bryan’s lights out, I can’t. I turn and go back into the room. He stands there, looking fucking smug, like he won a match against me or something.
“This may have started as a game, but it was over the second I spoke to her.”
“She’ll never believe you.”
“Then tell her the truth, asshole.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t believe you. You’re the one who told me you were going to sleep with my sister to get back at me. Look at that, you succeeded . . . in hurting her. Not me.”
Bryan walks out of my room and makes sure to slam the door for the full effect. I jump but continue to stand where I am. His words repeat in my mind, over and over. I hurt her. Grabbing my phone off my bed, I dial her number as I walk to my door. My call goes to voicemail.
“Leah, we need to talk. I don’t know what’s going through your mind, but your brother isn’t exactly a fan of mine and will do anything to keep us apart.”
As soon as I walk out of my room, I head to the steps, taking them two at a time until I’m down to her floor. When I get to her room, I pound on the door, calling out her name.
Nothing.
I do it again, over, and over, until my hand becomes tired and my voice hoarse. I call her, text her, and try to video chat, again nothing. Defeated, I slide down the wall until my ass hits the carpeted floor. She’s not coming out of her room or getting in, without passing by me.
Leah just needs to hear my side and then I’ll let her make whatever decision about us, she needs to.
8
Leah
With all the text messages, voicemails, and missed calls, my phone is literally dead. There were times I wanted to answer, but in the end, I couldn’t do it.
“As much as I love you, I’m glad you were smart enough not to actually get married.” My mother sits beside me and drapes her arm reassuringly around my shoulders.
“Gee, thanks Mom. I’m glad you have such faith in me. I’m not stupid.”
She squeezes me. “I know, honey. I also know how charming and good-looking Greyson Jennings is. I’m sure there’s a gazillion women who don’t know how to tell him no.”
Exactly. I don’t care about his past with other women. We all make mistakes and I know how tempting it is, especially watching it happen to my brother, to have gorgeous women throwing themselves at him. He could never say no. What I can’t forgive with Greyson is what he said about me. It hurts me to the core, but it infuriates me more. To use me as revenge? It’s just plain shitty. I get there’s animosity between Greyson and my brother, but to put me in the middle is low.
“Are you going to talk to him?” my mother asks, her voice soothing.
I shrug. What I really want to do is punch him right in the face. “I don’t know,” I reply.
My mother squeezes my shoulder again and lets me go. “Do you love him?” Turning toward her, I bend my knees and wrap my arms around them. Even I can’t hide my true feelings from her. She can see it in my eyes. “You do, don’t you?”