Page 6 of Don’t Fall For Your Ex-Boyfriend's Brother

Chapter 4

Tripp

“Tripp, get off your damn phone. This order is going to get cold,” Griffin shouts.

I suppress an eye roll and shove my phone into my pocket. He thinks I’m scrolling social media or maybe he thinks I’m talking to some girls, but none of that is true. I’m texting my mother back who has asked me to stop at the store for her before I get home tonight.

I grab the food Griffin has prepared and bring it out to the table. “Two burgers and fries. Let me know if you need anything else,” I say, placing the order down.

This is my life. I’m reduced to being a waiter at Atta Boy Brewery and Restaurant. I’m not saying I don’t appreciate the job, I’m grateful to my older brothers who own the brewery. It’s just not what I want to be doing with my life. I’d rather be writing, but it’s just not something they will understand.

I’m the youngest of six kids. Five boys and one girl. My brothers own and run this brewery. My sister is in charge of all the parties in the party room.

The love they all have for this place is something amazing, especially Callum, my oldest brother, he’s given up his social life to run Atta Boy. He’s devoted everything to this brewery. Shepherd is his right-hand guy and makes sure everything runs smoothly. No one is better than Brock at making beer. Paxton has the most unbelievable selling skills, getting this beer served all over the place. Anya fought her way to be a part of the brewery and she’s improved it so much with the party room she’s created.

And then there’s me. The youngest of the family, the one they all seem to believe is destined to carry on the legacy. My brothers say it’s in my blood, that this path was chosen for me long before I was old enough to understand what they were molding me into. They speak about it like it’s an honor, a birthright—like it’s the only thing I should ever want.

But the truth? I don’t feel that fire, that hunger they all seem to have. I should be excited, eager to take my place alongside them, to be a part of what they've built. I should crave it as much as they do, feel the same rush when they talk about the family name, the power, the influence. But every time I think about it, there’s this weight in my chest, this pressure that makes it hard to breathe. It's like they’ve already written the story of my life, and I’m just expected to step into the role they’ve assigned me without question. But I don’t want it. At least, not the way they do.

I want something different, something more than just being another cog in the machine they’ve spent their time building. Something that’s mine.

I don’t know how to tell them.

I don’t know if I can tell them.

“Hey, Tripp,” Anya says, as I step back into the kitchen.

“Hey,” I say, checking to make sure the next order isn’t ready.

I glance over at Anya and Griffin, shaking my head as they hold on to one another.

“We’ll go over the menu for the party tonight,” Griffin says, smiling.

“If we aren’t too tired,” she replies with a giggle.

“Gross,” I say.

They both laugh, but I don’t join in. I’m incredibly happy they’re disgustingly in love, but it’s not just that. They not only love each other, but they love what they do. Griffin is the head chef at Atta Boy and as if he wasn’t busy enough, he works with Anya for all the parties she plans. If I’m being honest, I’m jealous.

They found their great love. They found careers they adore. And they get to go home to their own place.

I walk out of the kitchen and step outside, letting the sun warm my face as I lean against the building. It’s no one’s fault but my own that I feel this way. If I wasn’t such a pussy, I’d tell my brothers I’m out of here. I’d tell my mom that I need my own place, and I’d go after the only woman who has ever made me weak in the knees.

My eyes are closed as I let the sun shine down on me. I feel someone standing next to me, but I don’t bother opening my eyes. It’s rare to get a second alone in this family, so sometimes you just need to ignore everyone until they make it impossible to keep doing that.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Paxton says.

My moment of peace is gone as I open my eyes and look over at him. “What’s up?”

“So, Hartford and I bought a house, which you know.” Rubbing salt in my wounds, thanks big brother. I simply nod and cross my arms. “Well, I still have the lease on my place for another year and I was wondering if you’d want to take over the lease for me?”

I stand up straight as my eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

He shrugs with a smile on his face. “Yep, you’re the only one left at Mom and Dad’s. I figured you might be ready to get out on your own.”

I hug him and he laughs. “Hell yes. Thank you,” I say, pulling back.

This couldn’t have come at a better time. I will no longer need to hide in my room, worrying that I will be interrupted while I write. I will have the freedom of writing in my own place. A weight that I didn’t even realize I was carrying lifts as Paxton smiles at me.