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Dylan choked on a gulp of coffee. “Bro,what?”
Jude slapped his back, eyes on me. “You saw her naked?”
I set my coffee cup on the floor and dropped my head into my hands. “I didn’t mean to.”
“How’d that happen?” Jude asked.
“I came home early on Friday, and Finn was napping, so I guess she took a shower and didn’t think she had to close her door. I walked past and…”
“And what?” Dylan asked. “I don’t get why you’re so upset about it.”
“Yeah,” Jude agreed. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
When I didn’t respond, they both stared at me. This time, it was Dylan who asked, “What’d you do?”
“I, uh…” I kept my eyes on the floor as I admitted, “I immediately went and jacked off.”
There was silence, and when I finally straightened, lifting my gaze to my two friends, they both broke up. Loud, obnoxious guffaws. Falling into each other laughing.
I felt my face heat in embarrassment, and I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning against the wall.
“Ooh, look at him,” Jude chuckled. “All red.”
“It’s not funny,” I muttered.
“It really is, though,” Dylan said, catching his breath. “You got an eyeful of your nanny’s ass and couldn’t handle it. What are you? Twelve?”
I blew out an aggrieved breath. Because, yeah, that was what it had felt like then.Now, I felt like an asshole. “I violated her privacy. But on top of that, I can’t have the hots for Finn’s nanny. That’s, like, rule number one.”
“I didn’t know there was a rule book,” Dylan said after taking a sip of coffee.
“Oh, you can fuck off with that shit, Mr. Everyone-knows-the-rules-and-won’t-catch-feelings.”
Dylan raised his brow for a moment then inclined his head, accepting that he was full of shit. Up until he’d met Genevieve, he’d lived by a certain set of rules with women, no repeats and no feelings. He’d had one-night stands only. But he’d gone and torched that code of honor when we’d walked into Walt’s that night last spring and spotted Gen.
Jude knocked his elbow into my side. “Seriously. You have a fair point about her privacy, but it was an accident, right? Stop beating yourself up about it.”
“Beating off about it,” Dylan said under his breath, and I leaned forward, scowling at him around Jude.
“I’ll deck you.”
“All right. All right.” Jude spread his arms out, physically putting more distance between us. “Dylan’s already been clocked by one of us. Let’s not go for two.”
Dylan was a grumpy son of a bitch, but he could also be quite the smartass, and after he’d unintentionally broken Gen’s heart in June, Nate had come out fists blazing in defense of his sister.
I earned my PhD and looked the part of an academic, but I also had been trained to fight by my prize-winning brother. And I didn’t have a problem laying somebody out.
“Listen,” Jude went on. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It was an accident you saw her. It happened. Now, move past it.”
“That’s the thing,” I grumbled. “I can’t move past it. I can’t get her out of my head.” I glared at Dylan’s knowing look. “And stop smirking.”
He held up his hands, trying and failing to school his expression. Honestly, hanging out with my friends was like living with my brothers. Then again, that was probably why I enjoyed it so much.
“I know you don’t want to hear it from me, but since I was sorta in the same boat with Genevieve—wanting her and not knowing how I could have her—it seems to me like you have two options.” Dylan flicked his index finger up. “One, stop fighting it. If this thing between you and the nanny is?—”
“Kennedy. Her name is Kennedy.”
He smirked like the son of a bitch he was. “If this thing between you and Kennedy is mutual, then?—”
