Page 14 of Never Kiss Your Brother's Best Friend

"Ah, come on," he scoffs. "You've never had a problem sharing your troubles with me before. What's on your mind, Sterling? You can tell me."

It's no use resisting.

"It's Emma," I confess, turning off the water. I set the brush down on the counter and wipe my hands with a dish towel. "I'm not sure what it is about her, but she's been on my mind a lot lately again, and Peter would have my head if he found out."

Dad grins. "I see. Well, as I recall, it was Peter that kept you from going after her back in the day, too. Are you really going to let that happen again? Why not go for it, son? If there's anything you should listen to me on, it's this. Sometimes you've got to take a chance. There's no point in playing it safe and sitting on the sidelines. Make a move, and if it doesn't work out, then you can always come back home and lick your wounds. That's life, son. But nobody ever wins a prize if they don't get in the game."

I stare at him, unable to believe what I'm hearing. "Dad, I can't just go for it. She's Peter's little sister."

He shrugs. "Peter isn't in charge of Emma's love life. And she certainly isn’t little anymore."

"Dad, please. She's kind of like family, and I don't want to complicate things. She's got a lot on her plate. She just had a breakup with a boyfriend. I don't want to add to it. Not right now, anyway."

"Sometimes a little chaos is just what you need to shake things up. You know, a little adventure in life can make things more interesting," he insists.

Emma walks back inside the house with the dog, and Dad starts whispering. "I'm telling you, son, going after a girl is like trying to catch a butterfly with a spatula—awkward and a little messy, but hey, you may end up with something beautiful!”

If this is your first time hearing my dad’s advice, you’re probably thinking, “WHAT?” And yes, that’s exactly what I thought the first time he said something like that. But he’s done it so many times now over the years that I’m used to it. His advice never quite gets there, but he tries.

I nod my head and dry my hands on the dish towel, “Got it Dad, thanks.” I turn around to face Emma. "Ready to head out?"

"Ready," she says, nodding. "That comfy hotel bed is calling my name. Thanks for the delicious dinner, Mrs. Cole."

"My pleasure, dear," Mom replies. "You know, it's been a while since we've had visitors. Maybe you can come back around again while you're here?"

"That sounds lovely," Emma replies, smiling.

"It's a date, then," Mom says, her lips curving into a warm smile.

"Good night, folks," I call out as we walk out the front door.

"Night, you two," Dad says. "Good luck."

I wave to my parents as I usher Emma and the dog outside. The evening air is warm, and I can already feel sweat beading on the back of my neck. The summer heat is brutal, but that doesn't stop Emma from being cheerful. She always seems to be in good spirits, and her smile is infectious.

When we get to my truck, I open the passenger door and let Emma into the cab. I lift Buddy into her lap, and she starts scratching his head.

"Hey, Buddy. How's that leg? Feeling better?”

She makes kissy faces at the dog and rubs his head, and I can't help but smirk.

"What?" she asks, flashing me a playful smile.

"Nothing," I reply, shaking my head. "You're just a big softy."

"Yeah, maybe," she says, and there's a hint of shyness to her tone.

I close the door and go around to the other side to get into the driver's seat, thinking on what my dad said back in the kitchen. Not the butterfly and spatula part. That literally makes no sense. But the taking a shot part.

I could ask Emma to dinner. I've wanted to for years, but I never had the nerve to go through with it. But Dad's right. If there's anybody worth taking a risk for, it's Emma.

But before I can summon the courage to broach the subject, Emma's phone rings. She glances at the screen, and Mia's name flashes across it.

"Hey, Mia." She listens for a few seconds before answering. "I'm at Sterling's parents' place, but we're about to leave. What's up?"

I listen, half-heartedly eavesdropping, trying not to stare at her, but not being able to keep my eyes off her. She's so beautiful, and the way the warm evening light catches her golden locks... well, I can't seem to think straight.

"Oh, that would be a blast," Emma says, beaming. "Zoe's place, right? Sure, sounds great. Okay, bye."

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