Page 96 of Secret Baby for My Brother's Best Friends

No.

I cup my hands on the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. She moans as she falls into the rhythm again, her teeth skimming my bottom lip as she sucks it into her mouth. My cock jumps against her thigh.

Hell yeah.

"Excuse me, this is a family-friendly beach," the bastard says in a nasally voice, and this time she pats my chest, a clear signal for me to let her go.

Fuck me and fuck that guy.

I let her go reluctantly, and she straightens, shooting him an apologetic look before glancing in the distance again. I take some time to admire her, the way her body looks silhouetted against the sunlight, her skin, her gorgeous curves.

"What are you looking for?" I murmur lazily as the guy moves away.

"My brother."

I don't know what I was expecting her to say, but it wasn't that. "Huh?"

"James. I thought I saw him, or someone who looked like him. But I guess I was mistaken because that is totally not him."

I frown, the connections forming in my mind. "Is that why you tackled me to the ground?"

"Yeah." She shoots me an apologetic smile. "I didn't want him to see us together. That would have been a disaster."

Suddenly, all the warm fuzzy feelings die, and it's like a bucket of cold water poured on me.

"A disaster, huh?"

Her smile dims, as though noting my change in mood. Her eyebrow wrinkles up in that adorable way of hers. "Did I say something?"

"Nope." I force a smile as I shift her off me and get to our feet. "Let's clean up so we can eat."

"Oh, okay." Her voice sounds unsure, and throughout the meal, though I try to keep things upbeat, I can tell she notices the change. She asks about it, but I don't want to get into it, choosing instead to pretend everything's fine.

I even kiss her goodbye on her cheek after I drive her home, turning down her offer to come in for a drink.

Then I go back home, get in the gym, and beat the shit out of my punching bag.

Let’s get one thing out of the way: I’m not proud of how I acted at the end of that date. I’m not proud of how I feel, yet I can’t fucking stop myself from feeling it. The concern in her eyes makes it worse, the obvious apprehension. God, I hate being this guy. I want to be the cool, easy breezy guy that she’s used to, the one who makes her feel good, and never makes her concerned for his mental status.

But no, now I’m the guy trying so hard to pretend he’s not salty about the fact that she was okay with introducing Adam as her boyfriend but not me. Which is incredibly stupid.

Logically, I understand why she went to such lengths to hide me. Out of all three of us, I’m the one her brother likes the least, and knowing she was there with me would lead to an implosion of drama with disastrous consequences. So I tried to be okay with it, and tried to tell myself that I didn’t need to be the one she introduced to her brother. Heck, I’ve never been the type of guy to even care about something like that, and usually, I like the freedom that comes with no expectations.

But not with her

With her, I want the expectations. I want her to hold hands proudly with me and call me her…something. It doesn’t even matter what. It just irked me being hidden like a dirty secret, especially knowing that there was another man she was more than happy to be seen with.

I brush my hand over my face again and hit it again. Fucking idiot.

And it’s not like I don’t know that some of my issues are linked back to childhood trauma. Never feeling good enough. Knowing that I was given away and basically forgotten is like an unhealed wound in my chest.

It sucked.

But my inherent jealousy has a deeper, darker layer to it. It's genetic. My father was an extremely jealous man. He was also an abusive piece of shit who used his jealousy as an excuse to hit my mother.

He's the reason why I avoid romantic attachments like the plague. I don’t want to be like him. I'm terrified I'll become him, but every day with Chelsea, I feel myself getting closer and closer.

The door opens and closes behind me. Adam by the sound of his footsteps. I’m hoping that he notices my mood and goes back up to his room, but I should have already known that he’s far too nosy for that.