Page 1 of Never Kiss Your Brother's Best Friend

Chapter one

EMMA

I’ve always loved weddings, but this one is… different.

It’s my brother’s wedding, and I’m a bridesmaid. I should be over the moon. But as I stand in front of the mirror in the dressing room adjusting this hideous puke-green bridesmaid dress, I wonder how I got here.

I’m about to walk down the aisle with my brother’s very attractive best friend, who I’ve secretly had a crush on since we were kids. Meanwhile, my boyfriend of six months glares at me from across the room.

This is going to be a disaster.

Dean, my boyfriend, says that weddings are a waste of money and unnecessary. But it seems like he just wants to make this experience as unpleasant as possible. He started complaining about my hometown the second we crossed the line into it, and he hasn't stopped since.

Even though I left Cedar Creek to go to college over a decade ago, I adore this place. It's my home, my roots. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen my family. So, when my brother called to tell me he was having a summer wedding, I made plans to spend a few weeks here.

Since I'm a teacher, I've got some time off this summer, and I was super excited to spend some of that time catching up with my family and old friends.

I never expected to walk down the aisle with one of those friends, especially Sterling. At least he manages a pleasant smile when he sees me.

Sterling.

He's been my brother's best friend ever since they were kids. He and I have known each other just as long, and we've had our share of adventures back in high school too.

Ask anybody we went to Cedar High with: Sterling is known as kind of a grump.

But that isn't how I look at him. I've always been able to see through his crusty exterior down to the soft little teddy bear underneath.

"This is the most backwoods, country bumpkin wedding I've ever seen," Dean grumbles as he enters the dressing room, still trying to slick back his thick, dark hair with his palms.

"Good morning to you too," I say, rolling my eyes. "It might not be fashion week in New York City, but Linda's dress is beautiful, and this sweetheart garden wedding is lovely. It's simple, not overdone."

I’m not going to mention the fact that my dress looks like it’s made out of moss.

"I understand you love small town life, but really, pine boughs and sunflowers? Please tell me that the centerpieces aren't mason jars filled with wildflowers."

Okay, I won’t, but they clearly are.

"Linda wanted a country-chic wedding."

Dean's disgusted expression says plenty.

I've met Dean's family—they are proper and refined and as polished as fine silver. We had dinner at his mother's penthouse last month, and I'm still not sure what we ate.

I've met a lot of his colleagues, too. And we went to a wedding recently, during which Dean introduced me to a bunch of the bigshots in his firm.

Everyone I met at that party was sophisticated and clearly very successful. Not my cup of tea, either. But I never complain to him about the glitzy events he drags me to. I rub my temples, wishing he'd extend me the same courtesy for once.

I'm about to argue more when a rap at the door cuts me off.

"Knock, knock," my mom says, popping her head into the room. She brightens when she sees me. "My sweet girl. Your dress is perfect."

"Thanks, Mom," I say with a forced smile, avoiding looking at Dean, who seems to be developing a permanent scowl.

She steps into the room and smooths down the frills of my dress. "Now, I know it's not exactly your style, but Linda insisted on the color. She wants the theme to blend with nature. It's her day, after all."

Dean mutters something under his breath, but I decide to ignore him. My mom, always the peacemaker, shoots him a sweet smile. "Dean, you look dashing in that suit. Not everyone can pull off a bright yellow tie, but you're managing quite well."

He mumbles a thanks, and my mom winks at me as if to say, “He'll survive.” She's seen me through countless crushes, including the one on a pop star who I was convinced I'd marry.

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