Free Boyfriend's Brother by ML Skye

blew out a long breath and greeted his commander when he opened the hatch.
    "Sir. If you've got a few moments, I'd like to run something by you."
     
    * * * *
     
    Chloe rolled home just after four am. She had never left the car except to pee at a truck stop on the outskirts of nowhere. The drive hadn't done much to clear her head, but it had calmed her down.
    She unlocked the door, expecting to see Marc zonked out on the couch, TV blaring.
    Instead, she found the living room dark and quiet.
    Shrugging, she tossed her jacket on the counter and kicked off her shoes. Padded quietly into the kitchen and poured a tall, icy cold glass of water. Lifting the tumbler to her forehead, she pressed the frigid surface against her skin.
    It didn't tame the dull throb that pounded under her skull.
    She tilted her head back and lowered the glass, drinking the clear fluid down in several heaping gulps. Finished, she turned and placed the cup in the sink. Heaving out a sigh, she headed for the bedroom, wondering what she'd say to Marc.
    She didn't find him in bed. But he'd left a note on her pillow.
    Crossing over the floor, she picked it up and read the brief missive.
     
    Chloe,
    Not sure what's going on with you, but I figured you needed some
    space.
    Gonna hang at Winnow's for a couple of days.
    Love you. Marc
     
    The note slipped from Chloe's fingers, and she sank to the edge of the bed. God… how the hell did everything get so messed up? Flopping sideways, she gathered a pillow close and hugged it to her chest, tears burning the corners of her eyes.
    She hated crying. Loathed it with a passion but couldn't seem to stem the flow. She had to decide. Did she really have feelings for Jason, or did she just need to compromise her expectations for a life with Marc?
    Her biggest problem? When she imagined the future… she couldn't see anyone but Jace.

Chapter Ten
     
    Finding sleep elusive after the flood of tears, Chloe grabbed a quick shower, then headed out to talk to the one person who might offer some solid advice. But standing outside in the crisp morning air, she questioned her sanity. No one else needed to get sucked into her mess.
    Screw it. If nothing else, she'd feel a hell of a lot better if she spilled her guts. Raising her hand, she rapped on the solid wood surface.
    The porch light lit up, and Rafael Ferenza pulled the door open. Dressed in battered fatigues, he blinked, clearly surprised to find her on his doorstep.
    Chloe tried to smile. "Is that offer for coffee still open?"
    Raf stepped back and let her enter.
    Closing to door, he jerked his head toward the kitchen. "I'll get a pot started. Come on."
    Chloe pulled a chair out and sat at the table.
    Raf measured out the grounds and filled the coffeemaker with water. He hit the on button and joined her.
    "Did you just want the coffee, or are you going talk about what's going on with you?"
    Sucking in a deep breath, Chloe started with Marc leaving to go back home and didn't stop until she'd arrived at Raf's house. She left nothing out, confessing to the passionate encounter with Jace and her subsequent inability to decide if she wanted to marry Marc.
    He heaved a sigh. "Sounds like it's shit or get time, Chlo."
    She agreed. "I know, Raf, but it's not that easy."
    "'Cause you're makin' it hard." He leaned back in his seat. "Do you love Marc?"
    Chloe didn't want to hesitate, but she'd been asking herself that very question for too long now.
    Rafael jerked his head back and forth. "Chloe, it's a simple question. And I know you think the answer is complicated, but you really just have to decide if you wanna spend the rest of your life with him… or if he's just a nice, comfortable habit you've grown used to."
    Damn.
    He'd boiled it down to the bone. "I hate you sometimes. I really do." She didn't mean it, of course. "Geez, Raf. How do I know? I mean truly know."
    Raf's lips quirked. "It all comes down to one basic thing, Chloe. Whose face do you picture when you think about ten