Page 16 of Marrying My Ex's Brother
Alexei leans against the ropes. “Who?”
“Dmitri’s fiancée.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Then a grin spreads slowly across his face. “Oh, this is excellent.”
I glare at him.
He ignores it completely. “You’re thinking about Dmitri’s fiancée while punching holes through the gym.”
“I’m thinking about the fact that Dmitri is getting married at all.”
“Sure.”
I throw the towel at him. Alexei catches it easily, laughing now.
“She seems…” I stop, searching for the right word. “Young.”
“She is young.”
“No, I mean—” I exhale sharply. “Empty.”
Alexei raises an eyebrow.
“She sits there with her perfect hair and expensive ring looking exactly like every girl Dmitri usually drags around,” I continue. “Pretty. Polished. Probably spoiled.”
“Blonde bimbo type?” Alexei asks dryly.
“Exactly.”
“And this bothers you because?”
“It doesn’t.”
He gives me a long look.
I hate that look. The one that says he knows I’m lying.
I walk toward the heavy bag near the corner before I punch him again for real. “She doesn’t fit,” I mutter.
“With Dmitri?”
“With any of it.” I hit the bag once. Hard. The chains rattle overhead. “She looked at me like she’d never seen a man before,” I say before I can stop myself.
Alexei bursts out laughing.
I turn toward him slowly. “Careful.”
“No, no,” he says, holding up his hands. “Please continue. This is the most emotionally invested I’ve seen you in years.”
“I’m not emotionally invested.”
“Right. That’s why you’re analyzing her personality after speaking to her for thirty seconds.”
I hit the bag again. Harder this time.
The truth is, I don’t understand why she’s stuck in my head. Women don’t stay there. Not like this. I sleep with them. Sometimes more than once. Then life continues.
