Chapter 31 The Woman from the Club
POV Ethan:
When I told everything to go to hell in Chicago and came back home, I already expected the sermon that would come from Damian for not doing what I had committed to. But what I damn well didn’t expect was to see the woman from the club—the one I fucked against a bathroom door—in our kitchen, wearing one of my brothers’ clothes.
What the fuck happened in the weeks I spent in Chicago?
I took in the look of surprise on her face—it was obvious she didn’t expect to see me here, just as I didn’t expect to see her in my house. I’d lost count of how many times I’d gone back to that club hoping to find her again, but to my bad luck, here she was, inside my home, clearly fucking one of my brothers. Looks like I was too late. I looked at each of them, trying to guess which one might be with her. Thinking about it reminded me of our rule about bringing women into our house—and what that means.
“Shit! No way,” I muttered aloud.
The stranger who had haunted my thoughts like a goddess closed her eyes and collapsed, and before she hit the ground, Damian wrapped his arms around her waist to catch her. My feet moved on their own as I walked toward them. I took her from Damian’s arms into mine. Without thinking, I walked her out of the kitchen. I could hear my brothers talking, but I didn’t pay attention to any of it. I climbed the stairs intending to take her to my room, but before I reached the top, a hand landed on my shoulder.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Damian asked, visibly irritated.
“I’m taking her to my room. I’ll call a doctor to take a look at her.” His brow furrowed, and I decided to be honest with him—and with my brothers standing behind him.
As much as I knew what it meant for her to be inside our house, I couldn’t lie to them. They needed to know that I had been involved with her. It was just one night—it might not have meant anything to her—but I couldn’t leave my brothers in the dark. Especially if she... I couldn’t even think of her as my sister-in-law.
“I know her.”
The three of them exchanged looks, then turned their attention to me.
“I don’t know how she ended up here, or which one of you she’s with.” I took a deep breath and told them the truth. “It’s her.”
They didn’t seem to understand. “She’s the woman from the club.”
Three pairs of eyes widened, flicking from the woman in my arms to me.
“You’re telling me...”
“Yes. She’s the woman from the sketches. She’s the reason I kept going to Ann Arbor.” I answered Damian. He took a step down as if my words had hit him like a blow.
Is he the one who’s with her?
Before going to Chicago, I had told my brothers what happened when I went clubbing in Ann Arbor with Madison. I’d told them about the gorgeous woman I’d met, described every detail of our fuck, even showed them the drawings I made of her—but I hadn’t told them how deeply she had rooted herself in my system. I hadn’t said how she had gotten under my skin, burning through my veins every time I remembered what happened between us in that bathroom. And I wouldn’t have said it—but now, having her in my arms, and knowing that one of them, possibly Damian, might be with her, I felt obligated to be honest.
“She hasn’t left my thoughts since I was inside her.”
I took a deep breath, meeting each of my brothers’ eyes. “Which one of you is with her?”
They stared at me like I’d grown a second head. But none of them had time to answer—because the woman in my arms opened her beautiful eyes, fixing them on me. I swallowed hard under the intensity of her gaze. I’d tried countless times to paint those same eyes on blank sheets, but I’d never been able to capture their tones, much less their depth. Yet now, looking into them so closely, maybe I could try again.
“Are you okay?” I asked, gently caressing her face.
She touched my lips, then brushed my cheek. A timid smile curved on her mouth.
“Asher?” she whispered. I frowned, unsure if I’d heard her right. “Is it really you?” she asked again, still smiling as her eyes closed once more.
She must be delirious.
“Better put her in a bed and call the doctor,” I said to no one in particular.
I walked to my room without waiting to see if my brothers followed. I just did what I thought was right. She was a little pale—maybe her blood pressure had dropped. The best thing to do was call a doctor and wait for his diagnosis. And while he examined her, I’d talk to my brothers and find out who this stranger really was—and which of them she was with.