Page 83 of Stud

He ran his thumb around the rim of his mug. “I don’t remember how we wound up in Frederic’s shop. I think he questioned if you really wanted a tattoo, and you were all over the idea, but didn’t know what to get. You said you wanted something meaningful. Permanent. Always searching for things that stuck. Then out of nowhere, you grabbed my shoulders and told me to choose. You wanted something that represented us.” He shrugged. “So I chose.”

I was black-out wasted that night, but putting blind trust in my idiot brother was pure insanity. “And you chose Japanese words I couldn’t read?”

He snorted. “That part was to screw with you. Couldn’t resist convincing you to get it on your ass, either.”

“Lift your goddamn shirt, Emmett.”

Amusement lit his dark eyes. He teased me by lifting and dropping his shirt’s hem half a dozen times. Fucker. When I cuffed the back of his head, the bastard complied. I read the words once, then again, gripping his far shoulder as my throat burned. “This is what mine means? The same thing?”

“Yeah.” His voice was as quiet as mine.

I read them a third time, staring at the bold, clean lines:

Courage

Strength

Brothers

Forever

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Messing with you was too much fun.”

I traced the ink, the four simple words that defined us. We were courageous. We were strong. We’d have each other’s backs for the rest of our lives. I pulled him into a crushing hug.

Emmett was dealing with his issues, growing up and risking his heart for the first time. What about me? Was pushing Ainsley away smart or cowardly? Was assuming she was taking the easy way out—not fighting for me, believing in me, truly loving me—my way of letting my fears run my life? I was scared I’d hold onto something wrong again. Thought I was too messed up to understand the difference, and I’d let the best thing to ever happen to me slip away.

The truth of it was a punch to the gut.

Ainsley needed space to process the lies Tessa had dropped in her lap, like Emmett had needed to find his way in his own time. I should have allowed her that, not given her an ultimatum. I should have fought for the woman I love.

Emmett pounded my back and returned to his coffee. “You okay?”

I exhaled a shaky breath. “No.”

“You miss her?”

“Man, it’s killing me.” I rubbed the tender spot on my chest.

“Then stop being an ass and get her back.”

“When did you get so smart?”

He glanced down the hall, to where his boyfriend was holed up. “Met someone who knocked some sense into me.”

“Best if I follow your lead. I’d also like to hang out soon, get to know Cameron better. Maybe at Nana’s next week?”

He smiled into his coffee. “She’s gonna embarrass the piss out of me.”

“Well deserved.”

We talked awhile longer, filling each other in on our lives the past weeks, made plans to play soccer soon. Once in my truck, I debated sending Ainsley a text. It could be too soon. Seeing those photos and reliving her ex’s betrayal wasn’t something that would disappear overnight. But I couldn’t wait.

We need to talk.

I pressed Send and dragged my hand down my face. I’d give her a few days, the weekend with the girls to do their girl thing. Commiserate. Call me every name there was, if that’s what it took. Then I’d do what I should have done five days ago: fight for the woman I love.