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After we finish eating, Tug leans back and rubs his belly. He lets out a long, throaty burp and grins. I might have to take back my thought that he’s adorable.
I laugh, and then say, “Uh, gross!”
He smiles and shrugs. “Oh, come on. You’ve been known to have air leave your body now and again.”
“Uh, I’m a lady, thank you,” I say, acting as though I’m appalled.
“Yeah, it was real ladylike when you farted that time doing yoga with Liv in the living room. Nothing says ‘lady’ quite like releasing flatulence during the downward dog.”
“Oh, my God, Tug. I could kill you right now.” If I weren’t laughing so hard at the memory, I would kill him. “That’s what you get, though. You were only in the room so you could check out my ass anyway.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” he admits. We both laugh.
When we leave the restaurant, we walk toward the pier. This has become our routine the last few days; after every meal together, we turn that way as if by instinct. Tug holds my hand, and his touch brings on an emotional response. I never thought of Tug as anything more than Liv’s brother, but my hand in his feels like it belongs there. Once we reach the halfway mark, we stop, lean against the railing, and stare out over the water.
Tug sighs. He feels it, too – the tension, the questions. Fear keeps me quiet, afraid I’ll break his heart. Scared if I say the wrong thing, I’ll lose his friendship. Maybe I deserve to.
Unsteady breaths escape me, but I have to ask. “Tug, what exactly are we doing?”
“Looking at the ocean,” he answers mockingly.
Did I expect anything less? I smack him in the arm. “You know what I mean.” My hand moves back and forth between the two of us. “This…I adore you, Tug…but…I…uh…”
Tug interrupts, his shoulder softly bumping mine. “You’re still in love with Brady.”
My heart shrivels, but instead of answering him, which he deserves, I hang my head. It hurts too much to admit out loud.
Tug lifts my chin with his index finger, and a tear rolls down my cheek. “Hey, don’t cry. I’ve known all along that you were in love him, silly girl. He has strong feelings for you, too, even if he’s too chickenshit to admit it.”
“Honestly, I’m confused. I have feelings for you, too, but I feel like things with Brady were left unfinished. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“The more time we spend together, the more I like you, too, but it’s obvious your heart is with him. I’ve always known we’re just friends. If this happens to grow into something more, great, and if not, then that’s okay, too.” He smiles warmly, and I feel worse. It might already be more.
Tug may have said the words “just friends,” but his expression tells me he’s not sure, and I’m not either. I’m so conflicted and honestly, I may be in love with both of them. They both make me feel things, just in different ways – one explosive and unpredictable, the other calm and consistent – yet equally addictive.
My arms slide around his neck, and I whisper into his skin, “You’re an amazing guy, Tug Hunter.”
He embraces me, and we hug, a hug different from others we’ve shared. As we release each other, our eyes meet, glued together in a gaze that shares our conflict. Tug blinks, and his hand strokes my face, skims the line of my jaw. His head dips, and I freeze. My quickening pulse is pounding in my throat. He looks at me with all this pent-up emotion, telling me everything I need to know. Oh, my God, he’s going to kiss me.
Surprising myself, I stand on my tip toes, and place my lips against his first. Tug’s lips curve into a smile for the slightest second. And then he’s kissing me, his breath in my breath. One of his hands tangles in my hair, and the other pushes into the small of my back, drawing our bodies closer together. My body molds to his. His tongue darts into my mouth and dances with mine. A groan escapes him, and he squeezes my ass. I squeal and release our kiss. Our eyes open, and his scream mischief.
“Sorry, I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. You have a great ass.”
My palm presses into his chest, and I grab a handful of his T-shirt, pulling him close. “Tug, just shut up and kiss me again.”
He does, keeping one hand on my ass. The other hand runs up my back and through my hair. Oh, my God. I’m kissing Tug, and I like it, a lot.
Brady
I slam the door to my truck, resisting the urge to scream. My little brother’s been the one to comfort her. This is a big problem for me. How had I not seen it coming? My God, he asks her out every day. I always thought it was a game they played. He assured me they were only friends. Evidently, he was just biding his time. I told the fucker how I felt about her, and he didn’t wait five goddamn minutes to take my place.
After being with her, I can’t stomach the thought of my little brother touching her. Just picturing it has my blood on fire. He’s way too young to give her what she needs. Fuck, now I sound like an egomaniac. It’s true, though – Tori’s the most responsive girl I’ve ever been with and Tug lacks the experience to do anything with that.
While I drive to the pier, I try not to think about strangling my little brother. He knew how she felt about me, too, and if he’s with her, then he’s taking advantage of her while she’s vulnerable. Playing the white knight role to get what he wants. Could Tug do that? If that’s the case, it’s my fault. I made it possible when I tucked tail and ran. Paco’s only a kid, but he nailed it; I’m an idiot.
After parking my truck and checking a few restaurants Tug likes, I still haven’t found them. I walk to the pier to see if they’re on it. Desperate to find her, I scan every face. My heart shrinks when the back of her head comes into view. Her arms are around my brother, and his hands are on her ass. I run in their direction, and that’s when I realize they’re kissing. I’m going to fucking kill him!
I’m close enough now to hear the noise escaping their mouths. I bunch my fists at my sides.
