Chapter 45

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Keats

I woke with a sore body and a full heart.

My bed was empty. I must have drifted off after I fucked Maren. I held her close as soon as I tied off the condom and tossed it in a waste can in the corner of my bedroom.

Her breathing leveled off as I ran my fingers through her hair.

I whispered that I was the luckiest son-of-a-bitch on the planet. In a sleepy voice, she reminded me that I was breaking the rules by swearing.

I broke every one of my goddamn rules last night when I took her to bed.

I promised myself I’d never fuck anyone I was falling for again.

The one and only time I let emotions lead me, I ended up alone in this townhouse wishing for a future that never transpired.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and catch wind of the smell of coffee.

Maren must have wandered downstairs to put on a pot for us. I’ll whip up some heart-shaped pancakes and then bring her up here for another round.

After I run my hand through my hair, I slide on a pair of sweatpants.

A thorough brush of my teeth follows a quick splash of cold water on my face.

I looked well-fucked and happy.

Jesus, do I look happy.

I smile at the lucky bastard in the mirror and silently remind him to pace himself. I may be feeling things for Maren that I’ve never felt before, but I can keep that to myself until the time is right.

I take the stairs two at a time as I race to kiss her.

That’s my first task.

I’m going to pick her up, swing her in the air and then dip her down for a kiss, a slow, lingering kiss that will set her on fire.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I sing as I sprint into the kitchen.

“Since when do you call me beautiful?”

My mouth falls open as I stare at my brother. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

My hand slams over my lips once I realize I swore.

I look around the kitchen for Stevie.

“She’s at school,” Berk says as he sips from a cup of coffee.

“School?” I question. “This early.”

“It’s almost nine.”

My gaze shoots to the digital time displayed on the microwave on the counter. “Holy carp. I’m late.”

“Carp?” Berk chuckles. “That’s a saver. I’m stealing that one.”

I cross the kitchen to pour myself a coffee. “Why are you even here?”

“Stevie and I saw Maren.”

That turns me around to face him. “When?”

He takes a slow sip from his mug. The bastard is torturing me, and he knows it. The smirk on his face says it all.

“When?” I repeat.

“I was walking my daughter to school when we passed Maren.” He lets out a sigh. “Stevie made a big deal about Maren’s dress. She said she’d wear it every day too if she had a dress that beautiful.”

I hang my head as I chuckle. “That sounds like our Stevie. How did Maren react?”

“She blushed.” He smiles. “You’re happy, Keats.”

It’s not a question. My brother knows me better than anyone. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

“I’m glad you’re not letting the past play a hand in this.”

It’s the perfect opportunity for me to tell him to let his past go, but our heartbreaks don’t measure equal.

He lost a woman he loved enough to marry.

I lost a woman I thought I loved for a couple of months.

Berk’s wife died.

My ex-fiancée cheated on me.

You can’t compare devastation to a distraction.

I got over Amber within a few months. My brother is still nursing a pain that I can’t fathom.

“Maren is nothing like Amber,” I say the words aloud that I’ve been carrying inside since I met the woman I spent last night with. “We’re talking apples and oranges here.”

“I know.”

“You know? How?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but in true Berk Morgan fashion, he answers it. “I’ve never seen you smile this much, Keats. She lights up your world.”

I can’t argue with any of that, so I don’t.

I skip the coffee and instead go to my brother for a hug.

He stands and wraps his arms around me. “I’m happy for you, Keats.”

I hope to hell one day in the future I can say the same to him.

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