Page 67 of Claimed By The Other Brother

We eat dinner at a trendy Italian restaurant in the West Village, the kind of place with exposed brick and candles on every table. The pasta is incredible, the wine even better. Sarah flirts with our waiter. Jane makes us laugh with stories about her disastrous dating life.

We spend an afternoon at the Strand bookstore, getting lost in the stacks. I buy three novels I probably won't read. Jane buys a firstedition of something she's been searching for. Sarah buys a cookbook she swears she'll actually use.

One evening, we head downtown to a jazz club Sarah found online. The space is small and intimate, filled with the sound of a saxophone and the low murmur of conversation. We drink bourbon and listen to the music, and for a few hours, I forget about everything else.

Another day, we walk through the Village, stopping at cafes and vintage shops. We listen to a band playing acoustic covers outside a bar called the Bitter End. We eat cupcakes from a bakery Sarah insists has the best in the city.

I keep checking my phone. There are no more texts from Dax. I'm relieved and disappointed at the same time, which makes no sense.

"You've been distracted," Sarah says one night over drinks at a rooftop bar.

"What?" I blink, pulling myself back to the present.

"You keep zoning out." She studies me.

"Are you okay?"

"Just tired," I lie. "It's been a lot."

Jane reaches over and squeezes my hand.

"We know this trip was supposed to help you move on from Miles. Are you doing okay with all of that?"

"Yeah." I nod, forcing a smile.

"This has been exactly what I needed. Thank you both. Really."

They seem satisfied with my answer, and the conversation moves on.

Late that night, back at the hotel, Jane and Sarah fallasleep quickly. I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. I think about Miles again. About the wedding that never happened. About three years of my life that ended with me standing in a corridor in my wedding dress, humiliated in front of everyone I know.

And then I think about Dax.

The way he looks at me. The way he handled me in his hotel suite. The way he fucked me in that bathroom like he couldn't get enough. I never felt passion like that with Miles. Not once in three years. With Miles, sex was comfortable. Routine. Safe. With Dax, it's fire. It's consuming. It's everything I didn't know I was missing.

But what is it, really? What was once guilt is now something else. Something that makes my chest tighten and my thoughts spiral. Something dangerous. I turn onto my side and close my eyes, willing sleep to come. It takes a long time before it does.

The next morning, we pack up and check out of the hotel. The car ride to the airport is quieter than the one that brought us here. We're all tired, ready to go home. I sit by the window on the plane, watching as New York shrinks below us. The skyline. The buildings. Somewhere down there…is Dax Blackwell.

Leaving him behind should feel like relief. Instead, it feels like a loss. I tell myself it's over. It was just lust. Just sex. Dax isn't serious about me—he can't be. This was probably just a game for him. A challenge. Sleep with his brother's ex-fiancée and then move on to the next conquest.

He's a forty-eight-year-old CEO of a media empire.He has access to dozens of women. Probably does this kind of thing regularly. I don't even know him. Not really. I know what he looks like naked. I know how he feels inside me. But I don't know his favorite food or what makes him laugh or what he does on Sunday mornings.

I need to move on with my life. Figure out what I want. What comes next for my career, my future, everything. This trip was supposed to help me heal from Miles. Instead, it complicated everything.

Jane and Sarah are talking across the aisle, recounting their favorite moments from the trip. The jazz club. The Met. That incredible pasta.

"It was perfect," Sarah says, grinning.

"Exactly what we all needed."

"Agreed." Jane looks at me.

"Scarlett, what was your favorite part?"

I pause for a moment as I flashback to everything that transpired last night and I smile.

"All of it," I say. "The whole trip was amazing. Thank you both."