Page 74 of Three Pucking Ex's Brothers
“I’m just saying. It’ll piss him off for sure, and at the very least, all you have to do is just…hang out with them. You don’t have to do anything. Not unless your vengeful little heart wants to, anyway.” She laughs. “But if youwantedto…”
“Abby…I can’t use them like that.”
“Don’t think of it as using. Think of it as healing,” she says plainly.
I shake my head, her words settling inside of me and making me more than flustered.
“I should go,” I say. “It’s late, and I need to clean up my mess here, and?—”
“Right, I get it. I’ll let you go, but just…think about what I said. Think about what youwant,Nora. For real. Okay?”
I tell her I’ll think about it and hang up, letting out a heavy sigh when I hear a knock at the door.
What the hell?
One glance at the clock and I note that it’s nearing one am, which is pretty late. I’m not expecting anyone, and as such panic laces through me. I pre-dial 9-1, so I can hit the 1 if I need to dial fast, and I grab a knife from the kitchen.
Nothing good happens when someone raps on your door at one in the morning. Besides, the only people that even know I’m here are Abby, my co-workers, and the Sterling’s…
Panic hits me as I remember Brett’s texts. His demands to know where I am.
What if it’s him? What if he’s come here to?—
I suck in a breath as the knocks continue, and then I count to three and I open the door, nearly dropping the knife when I see who’s standing there.
Because there, in the rain, looking like something straight out of my movies, is Flash Sterling.
16
FREDDIE
I toss and turn,unable to get comfortable in my bed. Of course, I know why, but I don’t want to acknowledge that Nora is capable of getting under my skin this easily.
I wish I could say it was because of that picture, or the video, orsomethingI could blame this on, but there isn’t anything that’s a catalyst or a reason for my sudden shift.
It’s just…her.
It’s the fact that even being in her presence makes me remember parts of myself I thought I’d buried, and it’s the fact that they so easily unearth themselves when I’m around her.
I look at the clock. It’s late. Nearly twelve thirty in the morning. But I can’t sleep. I’m too wired.
My mind is racing, and given the fact that I spent the evening skating laps and I’ve already had my release, I know there’s only one other way to quiet my thoughts.
I haven’t gone on a midnight run in ages.
So I throw my legs over the bed, sighing in defeat. I know a run will tire me out. It usually does, and it’s my last resort.
I change into a pair of track pants and a tight black tank. The house is quiet as I find my trainers and lace them up, running a hand over my head. I grab my house keys from the bowl in the foyer and slip them into my pocket, grabbing the armband to slip my phone into. Last, but not least, I grab my AirPods and plop them in my ears, cueing up my playlist on my phone and making my way outside. The heavy rock beats sound in my ears as I do a couple stretches, making sure the door is locked. The air smells like it’s going to rain, which I have to admit, I love.
Most people don’t like stormy days, but me? I live for the stormy days. They’ve always been the coziest to me. There’s something about the patter of the rain and the warmth of a fire, of the clap of thunder and cuddling on the couch to watch movies.
Not that I’ve done that with anyone in a long time, but still.
The vibes are there, and every time it rains, I can’t help but feel relaxed. I take off, my feet hitting the pavement as the music plays, driving me forward with every heavy footfall. Before I know it, my legs are heavy and heat ransacks me as I let my thoughts wander and focus on the feelings I keep stuffed down below.
I think about Brett and Nora, about his stupidity.
I think about Rush and Nora, and Tommy taking her home this morning.
