Irreparably Broken (Irreparable 1)

Spending the night tossing and turning helped me to realize, I never had a choice to make between Tug and Brady. I do love them both, but very differently. My time with Tug was a distraction from the one person who has always owned my heart.

Fear of the unknown causes of Brady’s current behavior are what led me to Tug, but I’m not in love with Tug. I care deeply for him, but I will always belong with Brady, to Brady. It hit me when I reflected on my time with Brady while we were in Mexico, his hands roaming my body, and the promise I made to forgive him when he messed up. I agreed, yet when I was faced with the first obstacle, I failed to keep my word, and I hate myself for it.

Now that I’ve decided, the only way it will work between us is if he makes me a promise in return. An open and honest conversation about the relationship he now has with his mother, what happened to Vanessa, and where the money he has comes from. The only obstacle I’m unable to hurdle will be if he’s into something illegal. Such activities will stop me in my tracks.

“Nutty buddy, up to your old tricks, are you?” Tug sounds surprisingly friendly this morning, and he’s nearly scared me to death. “You know that mug can’t answer you right.”

“Funny,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “You have to quit doing that. Scaring people is not nice.”

He gives me a sidelong glance wrapped in a warm smile. “I’ll assume the discussion between you and Mr. Coffee involves me and my handsome older brother?”

“Tug, I…”

He lounges against the counter next to me. It’s the closest we’ve been to each other in three days. “You don’t want to talk about it.”

I frown and sip more coffee. I set the mug on the counter and glance around the kitchen. Nerves have my knees knocking together. I take a deep breath for courage and look pointedly at Tug. “I do. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

His lips twist into a frown, and he studies my face. “So you chose Brady?”

Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab Tug’s hand, holding it against my chest, and explain. “Tug, it’s not like that. I didn’t have to make a choice. I’ve been in love with Brady for as long as I can remember. I love you, too, but it’s not the same. I can’t explain it, but someday you’ll feel this way about someone, too, and maybe then you’ll understand.” My tears swell. I’ve hurt him, and now I’ve lost him.

The smile that lifts his cheeks is reassuring, but it doesn’t stop me from squirming in the silence between us. After a couple of painfully tense minutes, he finally speaks. “It’s okay.” He pulls me to his chest and hugs me. “I already understand.”

I’m not sure if he means he understands because he knows I’m right or because he feels that way about me. Right now, I’m just grateful for any compassion he offers and desperate to salvage our friendship. “I’m sorry. Can we still be friends? You mean so much to me, and I hate the thought of things being awkward between us. I miss my Tug.”

“Of course we can still be friends.” He lifts a brow, giving away the next question, which has me elated. “I guess this means you won’t be going out with me this weekend, huh?”

“I’d rather eat a bowl full of mushed-up worms.” I smile, taking it easy on him. I appreciate the sentiment.

“I’m glad we had this talk.” He hugs me again. “So…how have you been?” he asks, casually teasing me.

I roll my eyes. “You’re too much, Tug. Truthfully, I’ve been miserable, but things are looking up.”

“That they are. Someone else has been miserable, too.” He nods his head toward the glass doors. “He’s in the shed.”

“Have you spoken to him, since, well, you know…since the other night?” I ask hesitantly.

“No!” he instantly responds, then shrugs. “Just a guess. We’ll work it out. He’s my favorite brother.”

“He’s your only brother, Tug.”

“Eh, that, too,” he replies, and then his face loses all humor. “I think he wants to see you.”

My stomach flip-flops as I think about talking to Brady. “You know, I’m not sure if I’m ready.”

“Oh, jeez,” he snorts. “You remember when we went to the movies the first time, and I told you that people in romance movies are stubborn because they’re always running from each other and the girls are always whining?”

I remember. I compared it to my books. “Yes, I believe I agreed with you.”

He grabs my arms and yells, “You’re being a stubborn whiner!”

He’s right, and I chuckle. “Oh, my God, I’m whiny romance girl.”

He nods, smiling crookedly. “You might even be worse.”

I want to argue with him, but at the moment he’s right. “Thank you, Tug. I don’t deserve you, but I’m glad we’re on our way back to being friends.”

“We’re not on our way. We’re there. Come here.” He wraps me in another hug. Tug forgives so easily, and it’s why I both adore and worry about him. I’m afraid he’ll meet a girl someday, and be so taken by her that he’ll allow her to walk all over him.