Dared to Kiss His Brother, Now I'm Addicted

Chapter 3

I stared at my phone, my chest tightening like someone had wrapped a fist around my heart.

In the photo, James was holding a girl I didn't recognize, his arm draped protectively over her shoulders as she cried. He looked calm. Gentle. Like he cared.

My mind went blank. Just like that, every ounce of trust I had in him crumbled.

[What's going on?] I texted Victor, my hands shaking.

He replied almost instantly.

[I'm not sure. I was just walking past James's place and saw them.]

I inhaled deeply, trying to keep myself from spiraling. But no. I needed answers, I needed them from James directly.

When I pushed open his front door, I was met with the sound of quiet sobs. The girl from the photo was curled up on the couch, eyes red and swollen. In the kitchen, James was fussing with a kettle, like nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Who is she?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, my emotions from spilling over.

James froze. For a split second, his eyes flashed with something, guilt, maybe, but then he forced a smile.

"Ashley, what are you doing here? She's just an old friend. From middle school. She just got back in town."

I crossed my arms, my eyes narrowing.

"An old friend? That why you were holding her like that? That why you bailed on me at the amusement park?"

His smile faltered, irritation creeping into his expression.

"Her pet's in the hospital. She was upset, I was just comforting her," he said. "And the other day when her apartment flooded? I helped her with that, too."

I blinked.

"Wait, you fixed her plumbing?" I let out a bitter laugh. "Funny. I don't recall you ever fixing anything at our place."

James's jaw tightened.

"What are you trying to say? I can't help a friend now?"

My patience snapped.

"No, James. The issue isn't helping her. The issue is how you keep hiding things from me like I'm some stranger."

He set the kettle down with a sharp clink.

"You know what? Believe whatever you want. I don't owe you an explanation."

The words hit me like a slap. My heart thudded painfully, and before I could respond, my body had already turned to leave. The tears came the second I stepped outside.

Back home, I collapsed onto the couch, the weight of everything finally sinking in. The silence was deafening, until my phone buzzed.

It was Victor.

[Are you okay? Want to talk?]

I stared at the screen, breathing hard. And then, like a jolt of electricity, a wild thought flashed through me.

Maybe it was time James learned how it felt to be left in the dark. Maybe he needed to see that I wasn't going to sit around and wait for him anymore.

My finger hovered for only a second before I hit send:

[Victor, I want to see you.]

His reply came in seconds.

[I'm on my way.]

I sat up, running my fingers through my hair, trying to pull myself together.

Twenty-five minutes later, the doorbell rang. I opened it to find Victor standing there, concern etched across his face.

"What happened?" he asked gently, stepping inside.

I didn't answer. I just stepped into his arms and broke down.

He held me close, one hand soothingly rubbing my back.

"It's okay," he murmured. "I'm here."

I looked up at him, tears streaking my cheeks, and for a moment, all I could see was his warmth, his kindness. The urge hit me hard, sudden and overwhelming. I leaned in,

Just as our lips were about to meet, the front door slammed open.

James stood in the doorway, pale, eyes wide with fury and disbelief.