Page 59 of Secret Baby for My Brother's Best Friends

"To talk. And to get some of the stuff you took when you were leaving."

"And you chose now to do it?"

"Yes. Is there a problem?"

I resist the urge to tell him to get the fuck out. We're past that. I have to be an adult about this.

And not spit in his face.

18

SAM

Ionly need to get a single look at the guy who walks in through the door, and I instantly hate him.

Not just because he has a smug look on his face, and wears wire-rimmed glasses and looks like one of those fake intellectuals who think they’re hot shit just because they've read a philosophy book one time and know how to balance an Excel spreadsheet.

Mostly, my hatred stems from the way Chelsea reacts to his presence.

All traces of her earlier amusement are gone. She was starting to relax around us, even smile and joke in response to our teasing.

But at his arrival, all that disappeared. Her body is stiff, her eyes fixed on him in anger. Whoever he is, she hates his guts. Nothing but wrath and hurt glows from her gaze, and I want to destroy him for that.

He steps into the space and eyes us.

“Wow," he says, scanning. “Full house.”

“Just get your things and go, Eric.”

“What’s the rush? I was hoping we could chat, Chels.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve packed up all your stuff in the storage closet. It’s in garbage bags. You know, fitting for you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Mature.”

She gives him a bitter smile. “I know, right?”

His eyes linger on me, and I raise an eyebrow, a savage heat building in my chest. Contrary to what my build might suggest, I’m not a big fighter. In fact, I haven’t been in a fight since high school, because after I hit my growth spurt and bulked up at the gym, my size became a significant deterrent for people trying to mess with me. Jake’s the one who typically gets into bar fights when he’s drunk and making out with someone’s girl, and I’ve had to step in once or twice, but typically the fight ends once I do. Good, because I’m pretty much a peaceful type of guy, and I’m not the type to get mad at petty shit.

This is the first time I've ever wanted to fight someone.

Deep inside, a part of me really wants to break this guy’s face.

He clears his throat and looks away quickly, targeting Adam as likely the friendliest of the bunch. “I’m Eric, by the way.”

“Good for you,” Adam responds, which is valid. Because I’m not sure why the fuck he thinks we need to know his name.

“They don’t need to know who you are,” Chelsea says. “Just get your stuff and go.”

“Really?" He looks at her, and my burning anger spikes. "That’s how you’re going to treat me after all those years together?”

“It’s a lot better than you treated me,” she shoots back, and a realization is starting to form. They were together at some point.He’s her ex, and this is him coming to pick up his stuff. I don’t yet know what he did to her to get her to break up with him, but I know whatever it was hurt her deeply enough to hold a grudge.

I hate him even more now.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I was hoping we could talk about that.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”