My Boyfriend's Brother (Forbidden Fun Series)

Still, it’s not until the following weekend that Frisco broaches the inevitable question. “Now that you’ve experienced it firsthand,” he says as we’re lounging in bed one night, “what do you think about tying things up with my brother? Officially, I mean, so that we can put things to rest.”

I bite my lip and look away. “I have thought about it,” I admit. “I’m just not sure how.”

“I’m not going to pressure you either way,” my lover says, “but I do hate to see things left like this where my brother is involved. It’s your decision, but I do think it would make sense to talk to him. Clear the air, if nothing else.”

I purse my lips for a moment.

“But what if he doesn’t want to talk, though?” I protest. “We parted on such horrible terms. I humiliated him, and he got me arrested. How does someone even fix that kind of a mistake?”

“There’s no way to be sure unless you do it,” Frisco growls, pulling me close and placing a kiss on the top of my head. “But that’s the point. If you don’t at least try, you’ll never resolve things between the two of you. And since I care about both of you, I would hate to see this keep festering.”

“You’re saying I should just show up on his doorstep?” I ask.

Frisco shrugs. “You’ve got nothing to lose, and everything to gain. Think about Club Om: you would never have discovered a new way of life if you hadn’t taken the risk.”

“But that’s because I had you with me!” I protest. “I can’t do it myself!”

My boyfriend grins.

“Well,” Frisco says simply, “that’s easy enough. I’ll come with you if you decide to talk to Patrick again.”

“You will?” I open my mouth, struck by a sudden wave of emotion. Even after all this time, I’m still astonished at the generosity of my boyfriend.

“Of course I will,” Frisco replies. “Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

Now, we’re pulling up outside Patrick’s apartment in Frisco’s sports car. I’m jittery with adrenaline, and it only gets worse as we walk up the steps and ring the doorbell. My stomach literally hurts, and I fight the urge to clasp my tummy. What if Patrick tells me to fuck off? What if he decides to call the cops on me again? There’s so much that can go wrong, that I nearly run in the other direction when I hear movement from the other side of the door.

“I’m with you, sweetheart,” Frisco growls, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re going to be fine.”

I cling to his palm, steeling myself, and then the door swings open. Patrick is standing there, and he looks completely normal, and not like the monster I’ve painted in my head. He’s dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt, his hair sticking up in places. His apartment is just like I remember it too: neatly furnished and organized, with beige furniture and a gray carpet. The TV is on in the living room, and I’m struck by surprise at just how mundane it all is. This isn’t a den of sin; it’s just the apartment of a regular guy.

Patrick’s eyes narrow when he sees me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks before turning to his brother. “And you, Fris? What’s up?” There’s definitely suspicion in his voice.

“Hey,” I begin tentatively, hugging myself, and then the words start to spill out before he can slam the door in my face. “I came here to apologize, Patrick,” I rush, and it’s hard to keep the emotion out of my voice. “I’m sorry about everything. It’s been eating me up inside, what I did to you. It was wrong, and it was cruel, and you had every right to call the police on me.” I glance up tentatively, and see that Patrick’s eyes are still narrowed. But I’ve come this far, so there’s no point in stopping now. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I wanted you to know how much I regret what I did. I hurt you, Patrick, and I’m sorry.”

My ex stares at me for a long moment before clearing his throat.

“I… okay,” he says at last. “Thanks, Libby. Apology accepted.” He glances away awkwardly, but then looks back at his brother standing beside me. Patrick frowns. “Are you with her?” he demands. “What are you doing here? Did you engineer this apology, brother?” His eyes dart from the older man to me, and I can see the confusion on his face.

Shit. The moment of truth has come. It was going to come out sooner or later, though, especially because I’m serious with Frisco. Still, right now, I’m nearly shaking with nerves.

“Um well, after our fight,” I explain in a halting voice, “I was angry at you. I wanted to get back at you, and I was willing to do whatever it took to make you as upset as I was.” I take a steadying breath before saying simply, “So Frisco and I hooked up.”