I blow past him, finding Emma wearing a robe, her hair a mess, and a cup of coffee in her hand. She takes me in and immediately puts her cup on the dining room table and rushes to the bathroom where I hear her rummaging through a cabinet.
Unsure of what to do, not wanting to get blood on their furniture, I press my back against their wall and slide down to the floor where I grip my head in my hands, watching blood from my nose trickle onto my pants.
I told her I wouldn’t fuck up. I told her I wouldn’t hurt her again. I told her I wouldn’t lie, that I wouldn’t run, yet here I am, beyond lost, running, and consequently contradicting everything I promised her.
Emma places her hand on my arm but I don’t move. I deserve this. I thought I was doing the right thing in taking it slow. Should I have come clean and told her I knew who Trey was when I first saw that picture? At the time I’d been too shocked, and since then, has there really been a moment where I could tell her what I know about Trey?
But hell, how was I supposed to bring up that conversation? I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared to lose her if she found out, if she knew she was in love with my brother, the better brother, the one who has everything. She broke up with him. She left him, and it had nothing to do with who Trey was to me. I never talked badly about Trey to Amelia. Christ, I even suggested she wait until she was sure, had healed, and knew what she wanted. And that had been a risk. In the last twenty-four hours, as we finally made it back into each other’s arms, it didn’t cross my mind. She had chosen me. Had.
I press my palms over my eyes, hating everything about myself right now. Demons from the past start to surge forward, my self-worth disintegrating with every breath I take.
Seeing Amelia sitting with Trey, their hands connected, fuck, it looked like they belonged together. She can and will be happy with Trey. And even though it tears me apart, if that is what she wants and needs, walking away is the best solution. She told me she wanted me, but that was before Trey came to take her back.
“Dude, you don’t have to talk,” Tucker says, sitting next to me now, “but let Emma take care of your nose.”
Knowing Emma is a nurse and the bleeding has yet to ease, I make eye contact with her. She doesn’t flinch when she takes me in. There is a little first aid kit next to her, and she quickly goes into action.
I don’t pay attention to what she’s doing. Instead, I close my eyes, trying to forget everything that happened moments ago, and fuck, everything that’s happened over the past few months. Fuck, why did she come back into my life? I was doing all right before she showed up. I hadn’t hoped there would be a second chance.
I should have known better.
When it comes to Amelia, I’ll never get it right. She has the better man now, so I’ll never try again either. Once again, because of being born first, I lose.
“I think your nose is broken,” Emma says, touching it. Feels like it. “You should really go to the emergency room.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, my voice so low, so menacing I’m afraid I look ungrateful to Emma. I blow out my frustration. “I’m sorry, Emma. I don’t want to be mean to you, but don’t make me go anywhere.”
Emma looks over to Tucker, who subtly shakes his head. Catching his cue, she says, “Okay, let me see what I can do.” She takes out some gauze and leans my head forward. “This will hurt, but I need to pack some gauze up your nose. Tucker, can you get him some ice please?”
“I don’t need ice.”
“Yes, you do,” Emma states with authority. “You’re not in charge. I am, and you will do what I say, Aaron.”
Damn. When Emma puts her foot down, she means business.
“Now get him some ice, Tucker, and three ibuprofens.”
Tucker does as he’s told—I don’t blame him—while Emma tends to my nose, shoving gauze up my nostrils. I welcome the pain. It was right for Trey to hit me. I was an asshole to Amelia, good intentions aside.
We sit in silence and when Tucker returns, ice pack and a cloth in hand. Emma presses the pack against the bridge of my nose, her other hand on my shoulder. “Keep this here until I tell you to take it off, got it?”
“Yeah,” I gruff out, sounding ridiculous with everything stuffed up my nose.
When I think Emma is going to leave, she sits right in front of me and presses her hands on my feet that are flat against the ground, propping up my knees. “Now I don’t care what Tucker said. If you come roaring into my house, interrupting my morning coffee and sex time, you’re going to explain what you’re doing here.”
No wonder Tucker was so irritated. Should have known, newlyweds and all.
I eye Tucker, and he shrugs his shoulders as he sits back against the wall with me, crossing his ankles and arms. Lot of help he is.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Aaron,” Emma urges, gripping my feet a little tighter with her claw hands. Apparently her bedside manner flees the moment she’s done tending her patients.
I lean my head back against the wall only to have Emma to position me forward again. Christ. Sighing, I say, “Trey paid Amelia a little visit this morning.”
“Trey, your brother? As in Amelia’s ex-boyfriend?” I told Tucker and Racer about Amelia dating my brother, and I assumed they told their girls as well. That’s what happens when you’re in love. Your significant other becomes an extension of you.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Did he punch you?”
“Yeah.”
Growing a little impatient, Emma says, “You’re going to have to give me more information than that.”
“Babe,” Tucker cuts in, “give him a break.”
Her eyes shoot to Tucker, and I honestly get nervous for him. “Tucker Jameson, do you not remember where your tongue was right when your friend Aaron knocked on the door? Do you not remember where my hand was, the way it was slowly rubbing—”
“Answer her fucking questions,” Tucker growls at me. If I wasn’t in such a bad place right now, I would be chuckling from the pain in Tucker’s voice, from the way I totally—unknowingly—cock-blocked him this morning.
“I saw Amelia’s dad last night, and it was perfect. He had a moment of clarity, and we spent a few hours eating pizza and enjoying each other’s company. Amelia said it was the first interaction she’s had with him since her first visit.”
“Oh wow, that must have been so special,” Emma says.
“It was. It really fucking was. In more ways than one.” With the hand that’s not holding the ice pack to my nose, I run my hand through my hair. “When we got home, everything shifted between us. It was like that moment with her father brought back all the good memories, helped us forget the pain from the past.” I pull on my hair. “Last night was everything.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“Yeah, and it was perfect. Everything I dreamt of. I woke up this morning feeling like the luckiest fucking guy in the world.” I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering how euphoric I felt having Amelia’s naked body tangled up with mine. It was a position I never believed I’d be in again.