Loving The Better Brother novel Chapter 7

WILLOW

I clamped a hand over my mouth to smother the sound that almost escaped me.

A scoff.

A laugh.

He was calling me a slut. The sheer nerve of Marcus Hale standing in this room, accusing someone of being immoral when I had caught him in the middle of betrayal.

If he knew it was me under this bed, he’d choke on his own words.

The mattress shifted, which meant that Tristan moved.

The bed dipped slightly, and I could tell he was sitting up now. I could almost picture him running a hand through his hair with that annoyed expression he got when Marcus pushed too far.

“Where is she?” Marcus demanded.

“She?” Tristan echoed.

“The woman,” Marcus snapped. “The one you slept with.”

I clenched my jaw.

Tristan was quiet for a second. Then I heard the soft rustle of fabric, the sound of him moving and standing.

“Why do you care?”

Marcus sighed. “Fine, let’s stop talking about that slut. Help me with something instead.”

I knew it wasn’t directed at me personally, but I couldn’t help but feel upset.

Slut.

It echoed in my head, bouncing against everything I had endured for him. All the nights I waited. All the meals I cooked. All the loyalty I gave to a man who never deserved it.

Tristan clicked his tongue.

“What do you need now?” Tristan asked. “How did you even manage to get in?”

“Dad gave me a key,” he said.

Tristan sighed. “I gave it to him, but he just gave it to you. That old man, really.”

“Help me find Willow.”

My breath caught at the mention of my name. My heart slammed harder against my ribs. For a terrifying second, I wondered if he somehow knew. If he could feel me here, hidden like a criminal under his brother’s bed.

Tristan stood fully, judging by the heavier footsteps. I could see his shadow shift from under the bed frame.

“Tristan, at least cover up,” Marcus said dryly.

“What’s the point?” Tristan added. “We bathed together when we were younger.”

“Or what,” Tristan continued, voice laced with mockery, “are you jealous?”

“Of what?” Marcus shot back.

“That I’m bigger than you,” Tristan said casually.

Even under the bed, my lips twitched.

“Fuck off,” Marcus snapped. “Help me find Willow.”

“Why can’t you find your wife yourself?” Tristan asked coolly.

There was a pause.

“Oh,” Tristan went on, his tone sharpening, “did she finally leave you?”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify