Page 121 of Better When Shared
Maybe that was why I’d agreed to go with Brian and Enzo. That and the champagne.
Brian shifted on the sofa, his arm sliding away from his face, and I got my first clear look at him in the soft morning light filtering through the windows. He really was quite handsome in that boy-next-door way that should have been boring, but somehow wasn't. His features were clean and symmetrical, like Jake’s, but not quite.
Brian had these ridiculously cute dimples that appeared when he smiled and a scatter of freckles across his nose that made him look younger than his thirty-two years. Jake was effortlessly cool and devastatingly handsome. Brian was attractive, but more in a cute, boy-next-door kind of way.
He was Jake's opposite in every way—responsible and steady where Jake was flighty and unpredictable. Brian was the kind of man who probably had a retirement fund and changed his oil on schedule and never forgot his mother's birthday.
Boring, in other words. Safe and predictable and boring. Not at all sexy.
Enzo stirred, mumbling something in his sleep, and my gaze shifted to him. Where Brian was clean cut and conventional,Enzo was all wild energy and barely contained chaos. His mixed heritage had given him striking features—high cheekbones, full lips, and light brown skin that looked like it had been kissed by the sun. The colorful tattoos that covered his arms were works of art, telling stories of places he'd been and experiences he'd collected like souvenirs.
He was beautiful in the way that dangerous things were beautiful—appealing precisely because they represented everything I'd been taught to avoid. Impulsive, unpredictable, the kind of man who probably didn't own a savings account and made major life decisions based on gut instinct rather than careful planning.
He was everything my practical, organized brain should have found appalling. Not at all sexy.
I needed to get a grip. These men had essentially kidnapped me, even if their intentions had been good. I should be furious, not standing here in my wedding dress fantasizing about what they'd look like without their clothes.
But the truth was, I wasn't furious. Annoyed, yes. Confused, absolutely. But underneath the irritation and bewilderment was something that felt dangerously close to gratitude. When was the last time anyone had cared enough about my well-being to override my own self-destructive tendencies? When was the last time someone had looked at me and decided I needed saving, whether I wanted it or not?
Never, if I was being honest. I'd been taking care of everyone else for so long that I'd forgotten what it felt like to have someone take care of me.
Even if their methods were highly questionable.
Brian's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment we stared at each other across the expanse of the luxurious suite. His gaze was alert despite having just woken up, taking in my disheveled appearance and the wedding dress that had seen better days. I waited for him to look embarrassed or apologetic, to start explaining himself or making excuses for their ridiculous rescue mission.
Instead, he sat up slowly, running a hand through his tousled hair. "How are you feeling?"
The question was so gentle, so genuinely concerned, that I felt something crack inside my chest. When was the last time Jake had asked me that? When was the last time anyone had asked me that and actually waited for a real answer?
"Like I've been hit by a truck. A truck full of champagne and poor life choices."
He nodded, and there was no judgement in his eyes as he poked Enzo, who startled awake, tumbling off the sofa in an undignified sprawl, then leaping to his feet, a big, infectious grin on his face.
“We’ll give you some space to change and clean up. The shower is a bit of a… problem.” Brian’s eyes darted to the glass-enclosed cubicle, which was exposed to the room.
“Sexy as all he—Oof.” Enzo’s flirtatious voice was cut off as Brian elbowed him in the stomach. “What?”
Chapter 3
Brian
The Amalthea
I grabbed Enzo's arm, my fingers digging into the solid muscle beneath his rumpled shirt as I hauled him toward the suite door. "Out. Now."
"What the hell, Brian?" He stumbled, still half-asleep, his dark curls sticking up at odd angles. "What's your rush?"
"I’m in a hurry because Gemma needs a moment to gather herself. And we’re not about to watch a woman shower who didn't consent to an audience." I yanked the door open, the cool corridor air hitting us like a slap. "She needs privacy right now."
The hallway stretched in both directions, all soft, luxurious carpets. and brass fixtures that gleamed under the soft lighting. The ship's movement was more noticeable here, a subtle rollingmotion that made the crystal sconces sway gently. The hall felt claustrophobic, and I started to walk, assuming Enzo would follow.
“It’s odd, isn’t it? She doesn’t seem that upset. About Jake, I mean. She’s more angry that we’ve pulled her away from work.” Enzo said after a moment.
“Maybe she holds it all inside.”
“Or maybe she never liked Jake all that much in the first place.” Enzo raised an eyebrow as he leaned against a brass railing, looking out over the elegant dining room below. Even disheveled and wrinkled, he looked like he belonged on the cover of some adventure travel magazine, all easy confidence and careless charm.
“Why would she marry him, then?”
