LOVING MY BROTHER'S RIVAL

The Dirty Kid

Chapter 5

The change in Shane was immediate. His shoulders stiffened slightly, and his expression lost its relaxed look. I followed his gaze and saw a woman standing three tables away.

Ivory Rowland.

Her dark hair was pinned into a neat twist, and she wore a cream silk blouse that probably cost more than my monthly rent. She had the same eyes as her brother, but there was nothing warm about the way she looked at people.

She smiled as she approached our table, but it was the kind of smile that made it clear she thought she was better than everyone else.

When she stopped beside our booth, her eyes moved over me from head to toe. She looked at me as if she had found something unpleasant on an expensive dress.

"Brother," she said, her voice light and cheerful. "Is this what you finally settled for?"

Her words stung. Heat crept up my neck, and I glanced at Shane. His jaw tightened, but he remained seated.

"Ivory." His voice was flat. "You're a long way from home."

"I was in the neighborhood." Her attention returned to me, and she studied my face more closely. Something changed in her expression. Recognition, perhaps.

"And I heard my brother was playing house with a mystery girl. Naturally, I had to come and see for myself."

I kept my hands in my lap, gripping the fabric of my dress. A few minutes ago, I had been enjoying dinner with Shane. He had held my hand across the table, and for a while, I had allowed myself to believe things between us could work.

Now, that warmth was gone.

Ivory narrowed her eyes as she continued studying me.

"That face." She tilted her head, then let out a short laugh. "She's the dirty kid her brother was always doting on."

She laughed again, this time with genuine amusement.

"What's his name again? Jonathan. Of course! They refused to sell that miserable house to Father. Imagine that. All these years, they've been living right under our noses."

My pulse quickened. Under the table, I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms.

I felt Shane turn his attention to me. His eyes moved across my face, and I could tell he was trying to make sense of what Ivory had just said.

Ivory wasn't done. She leaned against the side of our booth, looking far too pleased with herself.

"You mean that weakling?" Shane asked.

His voice was low, almost thoughtful, but the word weakling hit me hard.

"He couldn't possibly have a sister this remarkable."

For a moment, I didn't know what to say.

Perhaps Shane thought he was complimenting me. Perhaps he was trying to distance me from the person Ivory had described. But all I could hear was the way he had spoken about my brother.

That weakling.

It was the same dismissive attitude Jonathan had told me about. The same contempt I had spent years trying to believe Shane had outgrown.

Ivory's smile widened.

"I'm telling you, it's her. You really need to pay more attention, brother. Look at her eyes. Her mouth. She's cleaned up nicely, but she's still the same little shadow who used to follow him around like a lost puppy while he played tough."

I struggled to breathe normally.

The restaurant was still busy. People were talking at nearby tables, cutlery clinked against plates, and the smell of food filled the air. But all I could focus on was the two people in front of me, talking about my brother as if he were still the boy they had spent years looking down on.

Jonathan, who had dropped out of college so I could continue mine.

Jonathan, who had worked to repair our mother's crumbling house with his own hands.

Jonathan, who had sacrificed so much for me while carrying the hurt people like the Rowlands had left behind.

Two nights ago, I had stood in our living room and argued with him. I had told him Shane was different now. That people could change. That the past didn't have to determine who someone became.

I had defended Shane because I wanted to believe he was no longer the person my brother remembered.

But now, sitting across from me in his expensive suit, Shane had called Jonathan a weakling without hesitation. His sister stood beside our table, laughing about the house we had refused to sell their father.

And Shane hadn't even questioned her.

Something inside me broke.

I reached for my purse, my fingers trembling as I pulled the strap over my shoulder. Then I stood, and the legs of my chair scraped against the floor.

Both of them looked up at me.

Shane's expression changed. He looked confused, as if he hadn't expected me to react this way. Then something else crossed his face, something I couldn't quite identify.

"Rissa—"

"Don't follow me."

My voice came out steadier than I felt. I looked at him, fighting the urge to say everything that had been building inside me.

"I have an exam to prepare for."

I didn't give him a chance to respond.

I turned and walked away, passing a server who quickly moved aside. A few people glanced up from their tables, but I didn't care. I kept walking until I reached the door and pushed it open.

The cool night air hit my face.

Behind me, I heard Shane's chair scrape against the floor. Then everything went quiet.

I didn't know if he had stood up or if Ivory had stopped him. I didn't turn around to find out.

For the first time since I had met Shane, I didn't care what he was thinking or whether he understood why I had left.

I just wanted to get away from him.

The sidewalk stretched ahead beneath the streetlights. I glanced down at my feet and realized I was still wearing the same scuffed sneakers I had worn to campus. Each step against the concrete reminded me of Ivory's laughter and the ease with which Shane had insulted my brother.

I had defended him.

I had looked Jonathan in the eye and insisted that the man I was sleeping with had changed. I had asked my brother to give Shane a chance, even when he had every reason not to.

And in less than three minutes, I had watched that belief fall apart.

Ivory had walked into a quiet restaurant wearing cream silk, and Shane had sat across from me in his tailored suit. They looked like people who had moved on with their lives, people who no longer had anything to do with the past.

But the way they spoke about Jonathan told me otherwise.

Maybe they had changed in some ways. Maybe they had grown older, become more successful, and learned how to hide their cruelty behind polite smiles and expensive clothes.

But whatever else had changed, their opinion of my brother hadn't.

My phone buzzed inside my bag.

I didn't reach for it. I already knew who was most likely calling or texting me.

Jonathan.

The choice he had forced me to confront two nights ago had felt impossible then. I had wanted to believe I could find a way to keep Shane in my life without betraying my brother.

Now, the decision didn't feel so complicated.

I couldn't keep defending a man who still looked down on the person who had sacrificed everything for me.

I couldn't keep pretending that love was enough to make me overlook what he was willing to say about my family.

Whatever I had hoped for with Shane, I couldn't go back to the way things had been before dinner.

I kept walking, leaving the restaurant behind me as the city lights blurred in front of my eyes.