“Ohh… breakfast,” he croons without missing a single chord of the song.

I knew that would appease him. The guy’s a sucker for waffles.

“So what you’re not saying is that you struck out with the ladies tonight? Maybe you’re losing your touch, brother.”

I scoff at his goading, then let out a sigh when I picture her face. I’m still thinking about her full, glossy lips. Her defined cheekbones. That mischievous glint in her deep brown eyes and the way she tracked my every movement all night long.

“There was almost a girl,” I admit.

Just because he can’t ever know about Maddie doesn’t mean I’m forbidden from thinking about her again. Which is good, because it’ll be a long-ass time before I can forget that kiss.

“Tell me about the girl,” he prods, strumming softer now.

“She had big doe eyes and an endless supply of sass. Blond hair, perfect, perky tits. She smelled like strawberries and sugar. She was a little bit wild. She was beautifully free.”

My brother sighs before his guitar goes silent.

Fuck.

Too far.

I knew better. But I’m too tired to think straight. I know it’s not my fault—I could have described Maddie as a six-foot-tall bright green alien with two heads, and somehow, it would still remind him of her.

We both fester in the heaviness of his heartache, but he doesn’t let the moment linger.

“So there was a girl. And she was hot as fuck. And yet you came home alone?”

“And yet I came home alone.”

I don’t have to feign disappointment. Had she been anyone else—anyone else in the whole goddamn world—I would be making her scream my name at this very moment. Just because I can’t have her doesn’t mean I didn’t want her.

“Don’t worry, Dumpy. You’ll get her next time.”

I smile sadly and mentally accept the truth my brother can never know. Maddie Wheeler will never be mine. Despite how much I wanted her tonight… despite the connection I felt when she shoved me up against that clock tower and kissed the shit out of me…

I won’t get her next time because there can’t be a next time.

I peel myself off the couch, stand, and offer my brother a hand. He stares at it sleepily, then meets my gaze before shaking his head in dismissal.

“I’m good out here,” he insists through a yawn as he strums his guitar again.

I yawn in reply, then duck to kiss his forehead and ruffle his hair.

“Love you, bro,” I call over my shoulder as I head to my wing of the house.

“Love you more,” he replies. Like he always does. Like I know he always will.

8. Maddie

Chapter 8

Maddie