Page 26 of The Sexy Ex's Brother
"I wasn’t cold." I reply.
He watches me for a long moment, the weight of his gaze heavy but not uncomfortable.
"You were different tonight. You seemed lighter, less guarded. It felt like I was finally seeing the real you, not just the version you show the world."
I swallow, throat suddenly tight. "It didn’t feel like something I was supposed to do. It felt like something I wanted, really wanted."
His hand finds mine between the sheets. "That’s all I want from you. Just... to be real, with me."
I should feel vulnerable. Instead, I feel completely seen, like he’s looking through every wall I’ve ever built and choosing to stay. The usual alarms in my chest are quiet tonight, replaced by something warmer, steadier. For the first time in a long while, I feel safe. Desired in a way that’s never felt this pure.
Jack brushes a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Stay," he murmurs, voice low, words threading through the dim light like a plea wrapped in certainty. "Not just tonight, stay because this feels right. I don’t want to wake up without younext to me. The idea of going back to our lives tomorrow and pretending this didn’t happen, pretending I don’t want more of you, is unbearable."
I blink up at him, my chest tightening. He cups my cheek gently, thumb brushing beneath my eye. "I want more nights like this. More mornings with you tangled in my sheets. I want your laughter, the way you challenge me and undo me at the same time. I want all of you, your fire, your flaws, every piece of who you are."
My breath catches in my throat, a soft gasp pulled from somewhere deep, as if the air itself has thickened with meaning and anticipation.
"Jack..."
His gaze flickers over my face, lingering on my lips. "I’ve wanted you for longer than I ever let myself admit, longer than I dared show, even when every part of me burned to. I’m done pretending it’s only about tonight."
I nod, the smallest motion, but packed with meaning, not because I’m making a decision, but because the decision has already been made. Each step led me closer to this. Every moment tonight felt like it was building toward this one, inevitable, undeniable.
Of course I’m staying. I was never going to leave. We lie there for a long moment, our breathing synced, the city muted behind thick glass. I think maybe we’ve reached a peace I didn’t know I was craving.
Then Jack’s hand tightens around mine slightly. "There’s something I need to tell you," he says.
I lift my head, heart already stumbling into a faster rhythm. "What is it?"
He looks at me, steady, conflicted, raw. I start to say we should wait, but he interrupts.
"I should’ve told you before."
The warmth between us flickers. My chest rises, then stills. I watch his expression shift, shadows moving across his face, and just like that, the air is different. I don’t know what he’s about to say. I only know it’s going to rewrite everything we just became.
16
JACK
Iwatch her sleep for longer than I should. Her hair fans out over the pillow like something from a dream, soft, dark, a little wild. Her lips are parted just slightly, still flushed from our last kiss. She’s tucked against me like she’s always belonged there, one hand resting over my heart like it anchors her. Maybe it really does. God knows she’s anchoring me in ways I never expected.
I should feel content. I should lie here and let myself have this moment with her, untouched by everything else. Yet something is off. There’s a tension curled tight in my spine that has nothing to do with the woman in my bed and everything to do with the world outside this suite. The world that waits for us when the sun comes up.
I ease out of bed without waking her and pull on my clothes, moving quietly across the suite to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Below, the city pulses like a living thing, restless, glittering, watching.
My phone buzzes on the table. Text from an unknown number:You should know your brother's guy pulled security footage from Derek’s building, from last week. Looked likehe was focused on the delivery logs—especially to Derek’s apartment.
A hard knot forms low in my gut, a sick kind of certainty threading through me.
There’s no name, no signature, just a message sharp enough to feel like a blade pressed against my ribs. I stare at the screen, jaw tightening. I don’t need to check the log. I already know which footage they mean. The envelope I slipped under Ivy’s door, the one that set everything in motion the night before her world exploded. It was the one that shattered her engagement, the proof that tore her world apart in a single, silent moment. It never should’ve been traceable, never meant to carry my fingerprint.
Yet somehow, it did.
I drag a hand down my face, tension crawling beneath my skin. Derek knows.
Lately, Derek’s been silent in a way that doesn’t sit right. No explosive visits to my office, no heated accusations or veiled threats. Just an unsettling calm, like the eye of a storm that hasn’t passed, only paused. He stands there with a stillness that isn’t idle, his eyes track every move like a man collecting data. He’s watching carefully, calculating each breath I take, waiting for the precise moment to strike. for the perfect moment to strike, and without realizing it, I stepped right into his trap.
