Page 6 of Marrying My Brother's Best Friend

“Oh,” he gasps, then nods with a smile.

“Sure you want to hang around for that? You’re quite popular and all. There’ll be lots of people fawning over you if they meet you here.”

“I doubt anyone will be paying attention to me,” he answers.

I nearly scoff at that cocky statement. Trevor knows every girl will fawn over him. He gets their attention all the time, anyway.

“Right,” I say as I get up and walk away with my laptop. I’m aware of his eyes following my every move.

Natalie leans over the counter when I get there. Her eyes hold a gleam as she asks. “What are you two always talking about?” She’s swiping a dry napkin over the counter as she looks at me, and I feign a smile.

“Nothing,” I lie in a shaky voice. “He’s just being Trevor.”

“You two seem pretty cozy,” she continues with a knowing smile. Natalie’s voice drops a notch as she continues. “With the way he’s been looking at you, someone would think he has a crush on you.”

An unexpected laugh spews out of me with a rocking force that makes me tip my head back. “What?” I croak, ignoring the flashing thrill that buzzed through me right then. “Trevor doesn’t have a crush on me. We go way back, that’s all.”

When Natalie arches a brow suspiciously, I slap her arm playfully and continue. “He’s my brother’s best friend…I’ve known him since I was a kid, that’s all. There’s no crush or whatever going on there. He’s Trevor Hawkins…” Hot, wealthy basketballer Trevor Hawkins. “He has women at his beck and call every second of the day. Why would he have a crush on someone like me?”

Natalie’s lips form a small frown. “You give yourself too little credit, Gracie,” she says before turning away.

Her words reverberate through me a long second after she turns away. I glance over my shoulder at Trevor and find him still sitting where I left him, his hand rubbing his chin gently.

Over the years, I’ve kept tabs on Hawkins. His career, his achievements. I’ve watched every game and read every rumor and article about him. He doesn’t have the best reputation in the celebrity world, but I know the man he is deep inside.

At least, I used to know.

I drag in a deep breath, hoping to win the struggle with my nerves and heart soon. Because Trevor Hawkins spells trouble. He always has!

***

By that evening, the bookstore is swamped with customers wanting discounted books.

Trevor suggests free coffee drinks for everyone who buys over two books, and it’s a good plan because many customers decide to sit back, enjoy their coffee, and also buy our other pastries.

I serve a customer a croissant, then head back to the counter to fix another cappuccino. Trevor is behind the counter, trying to froth a cup of milk when I get there.

“You’re holding the cup all wrong,” I say to him as I lower my plate to the table, then place my hand over his to angle the cup closer so it froths at the right angle.

My fingers curl over his larger hand and I instantly love the feel of his warm skin under mine. My chest tightens with the weight of pressure rising inside, and when Trevor lifts his head to look at me, our gazes linger for a long moment.

My world tilts on its axis just from the melting effect his blue eyes have on me. An electric sensation shivers through me, and I wonder if he feels it, too. I don’t hear any other sounds because I’m lost in the moment. The rise of heat to the back of my neck and cheeks is slow but steady.

“I ..Uh…I need to get back to serving the customers,” I stutter, then back away from him.

“Wait,” Trevor calls out, his hand jerks, and the hot milk spills on the back of his palm. He lets go of the cup with a groan, spilling the milk to the ground, and his hand collides with the jug of coffee on the edge of the table next to the coffeemaker.

The coffee spills too, and scalds his right thigh, exposed by the shorts he’s wearing. Trevor steps back and cries out in pain while clutching his right leg upward.

“Oh my..." I rush forward to touch him as he cries out, and I notice the red blister forming on his thigh. “We need cold water,” I say, and Natalie arrives with a cup almost immediately. I pour it over the spot the hot coffee touched, and when he winces again, I whisper. “It’ll leave a scar. You need to get it checked at the hospital.”

Trevor is still clutching his leg close when I take his hand. “Can you walk?”

“What?” he croaks. He’s staring at our linked hands for a long moment like he didn’t hear me right the first time.

I lead him towards the door without saying another word. Everyone paves the way for us and he limps quietly by my side till we make it out of the café.

“Hand me your keys, I’ll drive,” I say as I scan the curbs and the street across for a fancy car he’ll obviously drive.

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