Page 25 of Don’t Fall For Your Ex-Boyfriend's Brother
“Yeah, grab me a match.”
“Hell no, and listen, you don’t even know what the outcome of that invitation was. I told you this once, but I’m going to remind you. If you want this girl, fight for her. Show her who you really are. Don’t act defeated when you aren’t.” He looks over at me and smiles. “Fight for her, Tripp.”
“It’s not that easy,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“Nothing worthwhile ever is,” he says, pushing off the counter. “Relationships and love are fucking hard, but not impossible. Does she know how you feel? Have you told her?”
“No.”
“Stop thinking you aren’t good enough. Man up and tell her how you feel.”
If only it was that easy. He thinks I don’t understand love and relationships and maybe the fictional romance I read leads me to believe things that aren’t true. Maybe the hero isn’t always the hero. But it’s not how I see things. It’s not what I’ve read and it's definitely not what I’m writing. Romance is something far more profound than grand gestures or fleeting passions. Romance is woven into the fabric of everyday life, found in the smallest of details and the most subtle of moments. I believe that true romance is about connection—two souls recognizing something in each other that feels both familiar and entirely new. I see beauty in the way two people grow together, learning to navigate each other's strengths and weaknesses, and finding joy in the simplest acts of kindness.
Romance isn’t just about the fireworks; it’s about the quiet moments that linger in the heart—the touch of a hand, a shared glance across a crowded room, or the comfort of knowing someone is there, even in silence. Love is a journey, not a destination, where the most meaningful parts are often the challenges that test the strength of a relationship and the resilience of the heart.
In my writing, I strive to capture the essence of what it means to truly love someone—to be willing to sacrifice, to be patient, and to embrace the imperfections that make love real and lasting.
To me, romance is not a fantasy but a reflection of the potential for deep, transformative love that exists within every human connection.
Griffin is right about one thing though. I need to fight for her. I’ve never read a book where the hero doesn’t fight a bloody battle of fists, witts, or emotions to get his girl.
Millie might never be mine, but what kind of hero would I be if I didn’t at least try?
I grin as I nod. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks Griff.”
“I’m always right,” he says, laughing.
“I call bullshit on that, but I appreciate you listening and not saying anything.”
“It’s not my story to tell,” he says, plating some food. “But you wanna tell me why you came in here pissed off looking for Brock?”
Shit.
“He borrowed something of mine and I wanted it back. I might have overreacted.”
Griffin chuckles as he shakes his head. “You think? What the hell did he borrow?”
Millie.
“My portable charger.”
“Christ, give your damn phone a rest.”
“Yeah, good advice. All right, listen I’m gonna sneak out the back so Callum doesn’t spot me. It’s my day off and I’m not getting stuck here.”
“Stuck here? You don’t want to work here?” he asks.
I’m just digging myself in deeper and deeper. I’ve confided in him about Millie, sort of, but no way will I tell him this.
“Stuck here as in I have a fight to win.”
“Hell yes! Go, hurry.”
I rush out the back door, thankful he let it go.
Millie turns the sign on the door to "Closed," and I push it open just before she can lock it, the bell above the door tinkling softly. She jumps slightly, startled, and places a hand over her chest, her wide eyes meeting mine.
“Tripp? You scared me,” she says, her voice trembling slightly as she tries to steady her breath.