James

The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee draws me into the kitchen. As I do every morning, I pause to take in the home my brother and I built together. From the sleek modern kitchen we’re standing in, to the sturdy walls and vaulted ceilings that make the place feel open yet secure. Even the food, running water, and heat—things we’ll never take for granted. It’s quite a step up for two brothers who were born to nothing and spent their childhoods trapped in a cycle of filth and neglect. We were homeless, parentless, hopeless, and yet somehow… here we are.

A smirk tugs at my lips as I pour my coffee, the quiet moment reminding me that none of this happened by chance. It took years of grinding—bouncing at seedy bars, literally fighting for my life in underground fight clubs, before finally finding my place working security. It was literal blood, sweat, tears, and sheer willpower that made this life possible.

And we earned every bit of it, all on our own.

“I heard Brianna leave a few minutes after I let her in. You two have a fight?” My brother’s voice cuts through the silence, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I shrug, more focused on stirring my coffee than responding. When I join him at the table, I offer a simple answer. “Wasn’t interested, so I sent her on her way.”

His brow arches, amusement flickering in his eyes as he lifts his mug. “What do you mean you weren’t interested? Since when?”

“I don’t know. Wasn’t in the mood.” I pause, then cringe as I add, “Plus, with the way she’s been working her way through our friends, it’s getting weird.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Man, that’s rich. Guess Ben’s relentless roasting finally got to you.”

“Dude. It’s not that deep.” I reply, rolling my eyes. “I mean, do you ask the chicks you hook up with for a list of their past sexual partners to make sure none of our friends are on it?”

He grins. “Nope. But with the way you go through women, I’ve started showing them that picture of us from our snowboarding trip to Switzerland. If they even look like they recognize you, I know to stay the hell away.”

“Whatever,” I mutter, annoyed. “Who cares? Doesn’t matter, anyway. I haven’t touched Briana in months.”

It’s true. I haven’t touched her or anyone else for two months, to be exact. My longest dry spell in years. A reality made all the worse since it’s my dick who’s decided he’s only interested in a certain brunette that’s as out of reach as the fucking sky.

“How come?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, his smirk growing wider. “I mean, I know you’re getting up there in age. If you’re having trouble getting it up, I hope you know you can talk to me.”

“Hahaha. You’re a fucking comedian.” I shoot back, grabbing a bagel and winging it at his head. He catches it with ease, but his smug grin makes me crack a smile despite myself.

Heading to the fridge, I grab the orange juice, then reach up into the cabinet for two glasses. “I’ve been busy,” I say as I return to the table. “Work, hanging out, hitting the slopes with you fuckers. And let’s not forget how women tend to get attached when you stick with them for too long. It complicates shit, and I like my life just the way it is… simple. Focusing on me, myself, and I, plus dealing with your slacker ass, is more than a full-time job.” I smirk, setting the glasses down and pouring the juice. “But enough about me. You haven’t brought anyone around since… what was her name again?”

“Marissa.” His tone changes, and I feel a twinge of guilt. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her up. “She was all kinds of complications. It’s crazy how when you’re in the thick of a relationship, you don’t notice how it’s sucking all the joy out of your life.”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t stick around long enough for that to become an issue.” Though my words are teasing, I’m relieved to see him bounce back a little. For a while there, he had me worried. Marissa left town about three months ago, and it took nearly that long for him to stop moping around the house.

“Well, would you look at us?” I lean back in my chair, a hollow laugh slipping from my throat. “Two single guys, living the life and proving a man can be happy without pussy.” The bitterness in my voice lingers like a bad aftertaste, and I shake my head, disgusted. “Now, there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.”

“Ha! Yeah.” He tries to muster a smile, but it barely lifts the corners of his mouth. As he pours himself another glass of juice, the weight of our shared misery settles between us. Neither of us is handling our so-called “girl troubles” particularly well, and it shows.

 With our history, it’s no wonder relationships don’t come easily. Growing up with little love or affection, you learn to survive without it. Instead, you create what you need where you can, and for us, that meant relying only on each other. I loved him, and he loved me. I took care of him, and he took care of me. We were two halves of the same whole, fighting to survive in a world where no one else cared about us but us.

“I saw how you were looking at Annelly last night.”

My jaw tightens, but I hide my annoyance behind a mask of indifference. We’ve had this conversation every damn time we’ve seen her at the diner—which, at this point, is practically a daily occurrence. It’s how I know that giving him any sort of reaction will only encourage him.

“I’ve already told you; I’m not interested in her that way.”

“That’s good. Cause after seeing her last night, I got to thinking. She’s beautiful. And single. I finally feel ready to move on, so I figured I’d take my shot and ask her out.”

The muscles in my jaw ache as I clench my teeth so hard it’s a wonder they don’t crack. My shit little brother, ever the instigator, presses on.

“Plus, she seems way more into me than she does you. I’m betting she’d probably say yes.”

“Cut the shit, Ty.” With my appetite gone, I dump my uneaten breakfast into the trash and head to the sink with my dishes. My back is to him, but the threat in my voice is impossible to miss. “Stay the fuck away from her.”

“Why? It’s not like you have a thing for her, right?” His tone is all mockery, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to take the bait. Unfortunately, my silence does the talking for me.

“I fucking knew it. You like her.” His grin is insufferable, his tone smug, like he’s just cracked some unsolvable mystery.

“For the millionth time, I told you I don’t. Not like that, anyway. And even if I did, I’d never act on it. The girl hates me.”

It’s then that Lucas’s words from months ago come back to me: “Her not speaking to you has everything to do with how you handled things. You’re the one who got your panties all twisted up when she caught you kissing that chick outside of Souder’s Bar.”

Fuck! The memory still stings, as sharp and raw as the moment it happened. I’ll never forget the instant my gaze snapped from the blonde I was kissing to Annelly standing across the street. Her expression hit me like a sucker punch—crestfallen, hurt, and so goddamn crushed. It wrecked me, igniting a firestorm of guilt that burned hotter than I wanted to admit.

The worst part? I knew. Even before I turned my head, I knew she was there. I felt her presence like a fist pressed against my chest, right over my heart. And the look in her eyes—that look—was all it took to drive the truth home.

It was my fault. I was the one who put that look on her face, and the realization gutted me. That’s when I decided—no, knew—that any kind of relationship with her, even as friends, was off the table. The next morning, I sought her out and put an end to whatever it was between us. Even though I knew it was the right thing to do, walking away felt like I was tearing a piece of my own heart out.

“What I saw last night wasn’t hate,” Ty says, his voice pulling me back to the present. “It was hurt. Whatever happened between you two, anyway?”

What happened?

I lost sight of the boundaries I’d set and gave her the impression I could offer more than I was capable of giving. By the time I realized I’d crossed a line, it was too late. She was hurt by what I said, and then she left. Went back to school, just like I told her I wanted her to do, without so much as a text goodbye,

A month later, Emilia mentioned she was seeing someone. At first, I thought, Good. She’s moving on. But then Emilia started voicing her concerns about the guy and putting it in my head that something wasn’t right. I tried reaching out to Annelly, hoping to reconnect, apologize, and be there if she needed me. Every call, every text—ignored.

Seeing them together at Lucas and Emilia’s wedding only confirmed what Emilia had suspected. The guy wasn’t good for her. And when Annelly came back to Ruby Creek two months ago, it confirmed my worst fears.

Something happened in New York. Something bad enough to scare her into coming home and abandoning the life and career she’d been building. Whatever it was, it shook her to the core. But since she’s been back, she won’t talk about it—not to her family, her friends, and definitely not to me.

“Nothing happened. Not really.” The lie tastes bitter as I shut off the water and lean against the sink. With my back to Ty, I stare out the window at the snowy peaks of the mountains that surround our property. “I made sure of it. I put an end to things before anything could happen, but it was too little too late. She got hurt because I don’t have it in me to give her what she needs.”

“What is it that she needs?”

The answer is clear in my mind, even if it pains me to admit it. Forever. Because that’s the kind of girl Annelly is—a forever kind of girl. And forever is the one thing I know I can’t give her. To pretend otherwise would be a cruel thing to do, especially to a girl like her.

“Someone better than me.” The words barely make it past the lump in my throat. 

“I get that,” Tyler says softly, his tone surprising me. There’s something heavy in those three words, but before I can ask him about it, the doorbell rings.

 “I’ll get it,” he offers, standing abruptly and heading for the door.

Alone with my thoughts, I focus on the breakfast dishes, scrubbing harder than necessary before loading them into the dishwasher. What I wouldn’t give for that to be her at our door right now. Hell, I’d settle for a text—anything to let me know she’s okay. Anything to prove there’s still a chance for us to go back to being friends.

What she doesn’t realize is that her indifference cuts deep, like a blade reopening wounds I thought had long since healed. Every time she ignores me, it pulls all my insecurities to the surface—the belief that I’m unlovable, unworthy, broken beyond repair. It’s another reason I should keep my distance. For if she can hurt me this deeply with nothing more than her silence, imagine what she could do to me if I actually let her in. Wouldn’t that kind of power in her hands be a risk I can’t afford to take—especially given my history?

“Hey, man.” Zeb’s voice interrupts my spiraling thoughts, and I turn just in time to see him enter the kitchen with Tyler trailing behind. 

“What’s going on?” I meet him halfway, shaking his hand and pulling him in for a quick bro hug. “Wasn’t expecting you guys for another hour. Is Owen with you?”

“Nah. Get this.” Zeb starts, his grin wide and mischievous. “Owen’s got himself a girl.” Tyler and I exchange surprised looks as Zeb continues. “He won’t say who because, apparently, she’s embarrassed to be with him and has sworn him to secrecy,” he laughs.

“What?” Tyler asks with a confused chuckle, leaning against the counter.

“Yep,” Zeb confirms, clearly enjoying the story. “He admitted she’s ashamed of whatever they’re doing, but he says she’s worth it. He plans to keep at it until he wears her down or they get caught. Whichever comes first.” He throws his head back, cackling. “The guy’s fucking crazy.”

“That’s our Owen,” I say, shaking my head with a chuckle. “A genius with the emotional IQ of a toddler and the self-preservation instincts of a 10-year-old boy in love.”

They both laugh, but it’s true. If there’s one thing history has proven, it’s that Owen is heading straight for heartbreak. Worse, he’ll see it coming a mile away, but it won’t stop him. When it comes to love, he’s all heart, logic be damned. I’ve never understood how someone so smart can be so clueless about matters of the heart. A genius romantic? Like meeting a cheerful pessimist or a militant pacifist… it just doesn’t make any sense.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Tyler asks, changing the subject.

“Thought we’d head up the mountain,” I reply. “Get a little snowboarding in before it gets too crowded.”

“Sounds perfect,” Tyler replies as he grabs a protein bar off the counter while Zeb pipes up, his signature douchebag grin firmly in place.

 “Maybe tonight we can hit up Club Solstice. It’s ladies’ night and Valentine’s Day weekend,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows like the loser he is.

“Sounds fun,” I respond, biting back a groan. Because yeah, a night of clubbing is just what I need. Yet another opportunity to be reminded that the only woman I want is the one I can’t allow myself to have.

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