8. Brett
Brett
Winter mornings in Chicago were a special kind of hell: bitter wind, slush-covered sidewalks, and a constant gray haze hanging over the city.
I pulled my coat tighter as I pushed through the coffee shop door, spotting my younger brother, Zackery, already seated by the window, stirring his espresso like he had all the time in the world.
“You’re late,” he said, smirking as I dropped into the chair across from him.
“You’re unemployed,” I shot back. “Time doesn’t exist for you.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m a freelancing photographer, so I’m not unemployed. Big difference.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” I sipped my coffee, letting the caffeine work its magic. “I need your opinion on something.”
Zackery leaned forward. “Sure, shoot.”
I exhaled hard. “I work with Olivia Shaw now.”
His eyebrows lifted. “And?”
“And nothing. She doesn’t know about Chloe. And Chloe doesn’t know about her.” Zackery sat back, blinking. “You never told her?”
I shook my head. “We lost touch after college. I never thought I’d see her again, and now here she is, back in my life, and I have no idea what to do with that.”
Zackery let out a low whistle. “So, let me get this straight. Olivia, the woman you left behind, has no idea you have a twelve-year-old daughter?”
I rubbed my temple. “It never came up. And now I don’t know if I should bring it up at all.”
Zackery studied me for a long moment. “Do you still have feelings for her?”
I hesitated. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Bullshit,” he said quickly. “You do. Otherwise, this wouldn’t be messing with your head.”
I scowled. “That’s not the point.”
“It absolutely is.” Zackery set his cup down, tapping his fingers against the table. “Look, Brett, Olivia’s going to find out eventually. The longer you wait, the worse it’s going to be.”
I clenched my jaw. “And if she walks away?”
“Then she walks,” Zackery said simply. “But at least she’ll know the truth. You owe her that much.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “And what about Chloe?”
Zackery sighed. “You handle that carefully. You don’t just drop Olivia in her lap. You talk to Chloe first. Make sure she knows she’s your number one priority.”
I nodded, my mind racing. “And if Olivia wants nothing to do with me after this?”
Zackery smirked. “Then, at least, you’ll know you gave it a shot. But let’s be real—you’ve never backed down from a challenge before.”
I exhaled, shaking my head. “This isn’t a deal I can negotiate, Zack.”
“No, but it’s one you can’t run from either.” Zackery finished his espresso and stood. “Think fast, big brother. Olivia’s going to figure things out soon enough.”
I watched him leave, my stomach twisting. He was right. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready for the fallout.
The wind slammed against the window, rattling it in its frame, mirroring the unease swirling in my gut.
I glanced at my phone, scrolling through messages from Chloe.
Just another typical morning—school, homework, her latest obsession with crime documentaries.
She was growing up fast, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for how much my life was about to change.
I knew Olivia. She wasn’t the type to take things lightly. She’d ask questions and demand answers; if I didn’t have them, she’d tear me apart. She had every right to.
And Chloe? She trusted me to keep her world steady. How was I supposed to tell her about Olivia without shaking the foundation beneath her feet?
I finished my coffee, the bitterness lingering on my tongue. There was no clean way out of this. Either I told Olivia the truth, or she found out another way. And knowing Olivia, I’d rather be the one to deliver the news before she pieced it together herself.
I stood, pulling my coat around me as I stepped outside into the frigid Chicago morning. Zackery was right. I needed to get ahead of this before it exploded.
I spotted Olivia the second she stepped into the restaurant. She was impossible to miss—long black hair, piercing eyes that saw straight through my bullshit.
I stood as she approached, forcing a smirk. “I wasn’t sure you’d show.”
She slid into the booth across from me, one perfect brow arching. “Trust me, I considered standing you up.”
A waitress appeared, and Olivia ordered blackened chicken in a salad because, of course, she did. I went with a medium-rare steak.
“So,” she said, folding her hands on the table, all business. “Why am I here?”
I leaned back, fingers drumming against the table. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. We need to make a truce. This project’s too important for both of us to waste time sniping at each other. I propose we put the past behind us and act like adults.”
She tilted her head, assessing me. “Adults? You mean like the one who walked out on me back in college? Or the one who infuriates me at every meeting?”
I exhaled, leveling my gaze with hers. “I mean like the professionals we are now. Unless you’d rather keep butting heads while the client watches?”
She sighed, staring at me like I was a particularly frustrating puzzle. “Fine. Truce. But if you screw me over?—”
“You’ll kill me. I know.” I smirked. “Now, can we eat without the threat of violence?”
The meal was… surprisingly good. Conversation flowed easily like it used to before things got complicated. We swapped stories, traded jabs, and even laughed a few times.
“Do you remember when we got locked in the art studio overnight?” she asked, swirling her wine.
I chuckled. “How could I forget? You blamed me and swore I did it on purpose.”
“Well, did you?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. But you didn’t complain when we found that bottle of whiskey.”
She shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “We were idiots.”
“Still are, just richer.”
By the time the check came, things felt… different—lighter somehow. It was almost dangerously easy to fall back into rhythm with her.
I walked her to her car, hands shoved in my pockets. The city air was crisp, steam rising from the grates. I opened the door for her when we reached her sleek, black sedan. She hesitated, just for a second.
“Chivalry? Didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
She stepped forward, brushing past me, and I swear to God, the air snapped between us. Her scent—something clean that made me think of winter mornings—hit me first. Then her body, just inches from mine, close enough that if I leaned in…
Fuck. Desire flooded, hot and thick, and it took everything inside me not to take her right there in the damned parking lot.
She turned her head slightly, lips parting as if she was going to say something, but no words came out. I should’ve moved and let her get in the car. Instead, I stayed right where I was, watching her and feeling the pull of something I had no business entertaining.
Her breath faltered, and it nearly undid me.
My hands twitched at my sides. Every instinct told me to close the space, tilt her chin, and see if she tasted like whiskey and trouble.
But I didn’t.
Because this was a truce.
Instead, I stepped back, jaw tight. “Drive safe, Olivia.”
She blinked as if snapping out of something, then nodded, sliding into her seat. I shut the door behind her, exhaling roughly as she started the engine. The second she pulled away, I regretted not kissing her.
I wanted her. I wanted to run my hands up and down that sinister body of hers and take her nipples in my mouth until they were hard nibs aching for me to bite them.
I wanted to slide my hands under that sexy ass of hers, hoist her on top of the hood of her car, slide her panties aside, and then drive right into her.
Shit! This truce was going to destroy me!
The second Zackery walked into my condo, the energy shifted. He carried a paper bag stuffed with fresh ingredients, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Hope you’re ready to be amazed,” he declared, tossing the bag onto the kitchen counter.
Chloe perked up instantly. “Uncle Zack! Did you bring extra cheese?”
“Obviously. And before you say anything, Brett, no, there’s no such thing as too much cheese.”
I rolled my eyes but smirked. Zackery was already unloading dough, sauce, and enough toppings to feed an army. Chloe grabbed the sauce jar, announcing, “I get to spread!”
“And I get to toss the dough,” I said, rolling up my sleeves.
Zackery arched an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Last time, you nearly concussed yourself.”
Chloe grinned. “I still remember the look on his face.”
I ignored them and grabbed a ball of dough. “Watch and learn.”
I spun it and thought I had it for a second—until the dough landed straight on Zackery’s head.
He went still, fingers slowly pulling the dough from his hair. Chloe wheezed with laughter. I smirked, crossing my arms. “You should’ve dodged.”
Zackery flicked a piece of dough back at me. “You should’ve aimed better.”
Dinner was controlled chaos. Chloe took her sauce-spreading job seriously, Zackery snuck extra cheese onto his pizza like a seasoned criminal, and I made a decent-looking pizza despite my earlier misfortune.
We ate at the table, laughing between bites. Chloe, ever competitive, finished first. “Okay, board game time. Prepare to lose.” I groaned. “Every time I say that, I actually lose.”
“Because I’m better than you, Dad.”
Zackery chuckled. “At everything, probably.”
We set up Villainous, Chloe’s current obsession. She picked the Evil Queen, Zackery grabbed Jafar, and I took Captain Hook.
“You realize,” I said, leaning back, “you play as the villain every time.”
She grinned. “Maybe I just understand them better than you do.”
Zackery let out a low whistle. “Brett, I think she just called you basic.”
I shot him a look. “You’re not helping.”
He grinned. “I’m not trying to.”
The game started, and Chloe was ruthless. Zackery kept a running commentary that made it seem like a televised event. “Oh! And the Evil Queen strikes again! Ladies and gentlemen, will Captain Hook ever recover?”
I groaned. “Why are you so annoying?”
“I’m gifted that way,” Zackery said smugly.
Chloe teased. “I think I like Uncle Zack more than you.”
I leveled her with a look. “That makes one of us.”
Zackery leaned back, arms behind his head. “Admit it, you enjoy my company.”
I ignored him, focusing on the game. Zackery exhaled dramatically. “Not to interrupt this very obvious moment, but I believe Chloe is about to obliterate us all.”
Sure enough, Chloe grinned wickedly. “Villains always win.”
And just like that, we lost. Again.
As we packed up, Zackery stretched, stifling a yawn. “Alright, I should head out.”
I should’ve let him, but instead, I said, “Or you could stay for another round.”
His eyes met mine, amusement flickering there. “Tempting.”
Chloe perked up. “Yes! One more game!”
Zackery clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Look at you, throwing out invitations. Almost like you enjoy having me around.”
I shook my head, but I was smiling. “Almost.”
I watched him grab his coat, fingers flexing against the table. “Sorry, kiddo. I have an early shoot tomorrow or I would stay.”
Chloe pouted but got up, hugged him goodbye, and dashed upstairs to get ready for bed.
I walked my brother to the door.
“I would hold off on talking to Chloe until you’ve told Olivia and established that you’ll be dating,” he advised.
“I know you’re right. Thanks for coming over. Chloe loves your visits; admittedly, so do I.”
“Be careful, Brett. It’s almost like you’re trying to tell me you love me.”
“Get out of here,” I said with a very loud eye roll.
He winked and laughed all the way to his car.
It had been a fun night, and I had to remember to invite him over more often. Chloe certainly enjoyed being with him.
I stared at the ceiling, the city lights throwing fractured patterns across my bedroom. Phoenix lay curled at my feet, sighing softly as if she could sense my restless energy.
I ran a hand through my hair. The truce was a joke. Pretending I didn’t want Olivia was a flimsy, pathetic excuse.
Her damn smile had ruined me today. That brief flicker of softness outside her car and the way her lips parted just slightly like she was remembering how good things used to be between us.
Before I could stop myself, my mind went there… imagining how it could’ve ended if we’d kissed.
She was in my condo, standing by the windows, Chicago’s skyline a backdrop to how her body curved beneath nothing but one of my shirts. Bare legs, messy hair, and mismatched eyes locking onto mine with that mix of defiance and invitation that made me crazy.
“I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, but she didn’t move.
I stepped closer, my fingers trailing up her arm, feeling her shiver beneath my touch. “You say that every time.”
She exhaled shakily. “Because it’s true.”
“And yet here,” I sighed, brushing my lips along the curve of her jaw, “you are.”
She turned, pressing against me, her hands sliding beneath my shirt, nails dragging lightly across my skin. “I hate how good you feel,” she whispered.
I grinned against her mouth. “No, you don’t.”
Her answer was a kiss, one that started slow and teasing, but within seconds, she was all heat, her fingers gripping my hair, her body arching into mine. I lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist as I pressed her against the cold glass.
“Brett—”
My name on her lips sent a dark thrill through me. I crushed my mouth to hers again, hands roaming, pulling her closer until there was nothing between us but heat and breath and the kind of need that made rational thought impossible?—
Phoenix gave a sharp huff, snapping me back to my empty bed.
I exhaled, scrubbing a hand down my face.
Jesus!
I was a wreck.
Shaking my head, I reached down, scratching Phoenix behind the ears. “You’re judging me, aren’t you?”
She yawned and flopped onto her back.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Me too.”
Olivia Shaw was going to be the death of me.