Chapter Eighteen
. . .
Cinder-fucking-rella.
moon
“What the fuck,” Brooks barks, tossing Margot’s note on the kitchen table as the three of them file in. “She left us a fucking note. That’s too coldhearted.”
I freeze inside the pantry, where I came to eat my feelings after Margot left. But apparently, I’m not the only one here. So I peek through the crack in the door.
Wells looks at Brooks, motioning a hand for him to chill before running it through his hair. Brody leans against the counter, not saying anything or looking up. He looks glued to the spot.
Wells looks between them before he stares at Brody. “Call her.”
Brody’s head snaps up before he shakes his head. “No. Fuck that.”
Wells’ brows draw together as he crosses his arms. “What the fuck do you mean, no?”
Ooh, this is getting heated.
Wells reaches into his pocket, pulling out his own phone. “Fine. I’ll call.”
“I said no,” Brody growls and pushes off the counter, stalking toward Wells.
“Don’t fight,” Brooks groans. “Can we please just deal with this heartbreak like normal people and get drunk?”
Brody waves Brooks off. “I’m not heartbroken. I don’t give a shit.”
Okay, Brody, way to commit to emotional immaturity.
Wells throws up his arms. “Lies. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Yeah,” Brooks agrees. “Why are you bullshitting?”
Brody’s jaw is so tense he could break all his teeth as he looks between them, shaking his head. “Fine. So call her…what are you gonna say?”
The boys are silent, staring back at him, so he presses, “Huh? What? You gonna beg her to come back?”
It would definitely work.
Brooks grips the back of his neck, kicking at the floor.
But Wells is locked on Brody as he levels his words like a dagger to the heart, “Yeah. And we tell her we want her to fucking stay, you asshole.”
When Brody grimaces and tries to look away, Wells closes the distance between them and forces Brody’s face back to his.
God, it’s like a CW show.
But Brody doubles down. “Stop acting like we’re new to this, Wells. We’ve shared women before. She’s just someone we—”
Brooks’ voice rises, cutting Brody off. “Nooooo. Nope. Don’t fucking do that. She’s not just some woman we shared, and you know it.”
I know they heard Brooks, but Wells and Brody are still staring at each other in a standoff.
Shit. I know they’re mad at each other, but this is hot. No wonder my sister lost her mind.
They’re like two Titans. One too stubborn to admit his feelings are hurt, and the other too indignant not to push for what he wants.
Wells narrows his eyes. “She’s special, Brody. This week felt special. Like we’d found our very own dirty little Cinderella.”
My shoulders sag in sympathy for Brody as I watch his face grow heavier in Wells’ hand. He’s sad. I’m about to pull out my phone and text Margot, but the misery in Brody’s voice holds my attention.
He pulls away from Wells and shrugs. “Even if that were true, we weren’t special enough to make her wanna stay with us.”
Their faces are killing me. Brooks sits down at the counter, his head in his hands as he stares at the granite. Wells reaches out, cupping a hand around the back of Brody’s head before he pulls him into a hug.
Jesus. Twenty-eight was only a few years ago for me, but I don’t remember being this dramatic.
With a shake of my head, I push the pantry door open. “Do you want her?”
They look at me, surprised, their eyes shifting back and forth between the pantry and me.
“Wha the fuck—” Brooks breathes out.
“Yes,” I hiss, “I was in there the whole time. Let me ask again…do you want my sister?”
Wells nods with sad puppy dog eyes, and Brooks looks at me and slaps the counter with both palms, saying, “Daddy, I want her.”
But Brody doesn’t answer. When my eyes meet his, I raise my brows.
“The truth?” Brody challenges.
“Yeah,” I answer just as strong.
“I asked her to stay when we were on the boat. I stared into her eyes and said, ‘Don’t leave. Stay here.’”
Silence spreads out. It’s solemn and so fucking “cue the music for a commercial break.”
“Oh my god,” I rush out, making their shoulders jump. “You’re all idiots. And surprisingly emo for your age.”
Scowls and grumbles begin a protest around me, but I wave my hand, cutting them off.
“No, you don’t get to speak anymore. If you haven’t heard, we’re in the middle of a climate crisis. There’s enough hot air in the world. Zip it.”
Brooks chuckles, then follows directions, so I continue. “How about instead of running your traps in this kitchen and feeling sorry for yourselves, you maybe, I dunno, put those big feelings into action?”
They look appropriately embarrassed, but I’m not done.
“The woman just got out of the worst two decades of her life and promptly entered a quad. Of course she’s your Cinder-fucking-rella. But stop being a bunch of Dick Geres and give the girl a little fanfare. Women love a moment, and my sister’s no exception.”
“Nice,” Brooks draws out as the two others look at him. So he adds, “That was a Pretty Woman reference.”
Brody and Wells shake their heads, but I watch my little wake-up call take effect.
Each in their own way mulls over what I said before Brooks stands. His smirk grows into a shit-eating grin.
He walks over to me and wraps me in his arms, picking me up off the ground, making me laugh before he plants a kiss on my cheek.
“Moon pie, you’re a fucking genius.”
I’m placed back on my feet, a little confused, but Brooks turns to look at the guys as he says, “Okay. Hear me out…”