Page 15 of Marrying My Brother's Best Friend

Fooling everyone into believing that I’m in love with Gracie isn’t going to be the hardest part of my life, henceforth. The hardest part would be pretending not to care about Gracie when every part of me burns for her.

I barely touch my meal while Gracie enjoys hers, and she notices my silence sometime later before asking. “You okay?”

Her expression is the one thing that gets to me. Her eyes soften, and she purses her lips as they flicker over mine. Gracie shocks me when she extends a hand and places it over mine.

“Hey,” she whispers. “This is your place and if you feel this is what you need to get your spot back on your team and mend your reputation, then I’m going to help you do it.”

Gracie’s innocence is the part of her that scares me more than anything else. Eight years ago, she believed we could get together and start a romantic relationship because our chemistry had been palpable.

I knew it then and wanted it desperately, but Gracie was too innocent to understand what I knew. She believes in a fairytale. I won’t be the one to take that dream away from her.

“Thank you,” I sigh instead of telling her the things that bother me. “Thanks for helping me, Gracie. It means a lot.”

Her hand on mine strokes a little, then she pulls away and clears her throat when the moment tenses. “It’s a beautiful night. The skies from up here remind me of home.”’

It’s Gracie’s first time away from the town she’s lived in all her life, and I know she’ll miss the beach waves and the crispy sea breeze at some point. I want her to feel comfortable the entire three months she’s here.

Three months. It seems like such a long time, but I find myself anticipating every moment already.

***

By the next morning, the strong scent of coffee teases my nostrils when I wake up, and I follow the trail into the kitchen to find Gracie humming to herself while she’s standing at the sink.

She has her back to me, and her hair is wrapped in a bun while she sways her hips from one side to the other, dancing to the tune in her head.

I don’t make a sound because I love watching her. Gracie is a terrible dancer, yes, but she still moves with poise and grace. She puts her hands in the air next and starts rolling her hips in a sexy way that makes my body tighten.

The first shot of adrenaline courses through my nerves and leaves them twisting as a renewed flush rushes through me. Not once in eight years did I not miss watching her like this.

When Gracie finally turns around with the mug, she jumps from shock and spills her coffee.

“Goodness, you scared me!” One hand flies to her chest and she pants before walking forward and setting the mug on the table. I notice the flush on her cheeks. The deep red matches her hair and the sweet red of her lips.

I don’t realize I’m gawking at her till she raises a brow. “What?” she questions. “What are you staring at? Is there something on my face?”

There’s a smear of cream on her lips and it makes her look even cuter. My fingers itch to stroke the strands of hair falling to the sides of her face, but I dip my hands in my pocket instead and suck in a deep breath to steady my lungs.

I spent the night thinking of Gracie, and those thoughts left me restless. Seeing her now fills me with a bittersweet sensation. She’s right in front of me, but I can never have her.

“Trevor?”

“My manager will be here soon. He’ll give us a detailed breakdown of all we need to do over the next few weeks to gain the right amount of media attention. Every move, every outing and meeting, has to be strategic. It’s the only way to get people talking about us and our romance.”

She lowers herself to one seat, then pushes the mug of coffee in front of her towards me. “Have some,” she says. “It has caramel in it, just as you like it.”

“You remember?” A smile edges on her lips as I pick up the mug, take a sip and sigh. A memory of Gracie and me sharing coffee on her parent’s front porch every morning comes to mind the moment I taste the coffee.

It tastes just like what her mom used to make. Gracie’s laugh fills my mind and I recall her running around the front yard with Jace, playing football when we were younger.

I admired her a lot back then. She was seventeen when I realized my feelings had developed into more than simply admiration for a friend. I realized I wanted to protect her from anything that could hurt her, and shield her always.

But now I’m using her for my own selfish reasons. Gracie agreed to help me because she genuinely cares for me. But will it still be the same once she finds out I orchestrated this from the beginning, but made her believe it all happened by chance?

“Tell me something,” she says after some time, and I look up to find her staring at me. “When all of this is over, and you get your spot on your team back. What happens next?”

“What?”

She rubs the back of her neck and the side of her head like she’s nervous, and I notice how her lower lip trembles as she waits for my answer.

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