Page 79 of Indulge
I really don’t want to lose Bella. But I’m not hurting my brother in the process. That grump might not deserve her after the way he’s behaved, yet I know him better than that. I know he doesn’t mean it. He’s protecting himself the only way he knows how.
I lean back against the wall just as his Range Rover pulls up. I stub out my cigarette with my boot before he slams the door shut. The situation with Bella caused me to pick back up the habit I quit after being shot. Stress and high emotions will do that to you, I guess. Or maybe, I’m just weak.
“Alright, bro, you’re late,” I tease, glancing at my watch.
“Well, I spent my morning trying to stop a kitten from scratching the shit out of my furniture.”
I blink at him. “A kitten?”
“Yes. I know I’ve lost my damn mind.”
“Is it cute?” I ask, though a sinking feeling twists in my gut. I know exactly why Reggie suddenly has a new pet.
“Very.”
I scratch the back of my neck, and silence stretches between us.
“Did Bella?—”
He cuts me off with a raised hand. “She did. Not that it was required, seeing as I witnessed it. She fits you well.”
His tone is flat, too flat, and that alone gives his lie away.
“Stop pretending you don’t care, Reggie.”
He arches a brow. “Please tell me you’re not messing about with my fiancée just to prove a point that I like her.”
“What? No. Fuck. Me and Bels… I can’t explain it.”
He half-grins, but there’s no humor in it. “I know the feeling.”
This is not going how I expected.
“What are you trying to say?” I ask.
He crosses his arms over his chest, his stare unyielding.
“Last night, seeing your face in her—” He stops himself, jaw tightening. “It gave me a wake-up call.”
“Right…”
“I’m not going to stop whatever’s happening between the two of you.”
My heart starts hammering, waiting for thebut.
“But I ain’t giving up on her either.”
I stare at him, trying to read the tone beneath his words. He’s calm—too calm.
That’s what makes it worse.
“You’re not giving up on her?” I repeat slowly. “You realize what you’re saying, right?”
He shrugs, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “We’ve shared women before, Rowan.”
My jaw tightens. “This isn’t the same, and you know it.”
“I do,” he admits, lighting a cigarette. “That’s the problem.”
