Page 12 of Falling Again For My Best Friend's Brother

I revved the engine, the powerful vibrations beneath me providing a welcome distraction. I needed to focus on the road, not on Amelia and her new friend.

As I sped down the winding roads, the rhythm of the engine beneath me was soothing and familiar. It reminded me of long convoy drives in the desert, where the monotony of the journey gave way to introspection. I'd faced down enemies and navigated minefields. Surely, I could figure out how to talk to a woman I cared about.

As I navigated the roads back to Rivermint Cove, I started to form a plan. I wasn't going to let one setback stop me. I would show Amelia I was the right guy for her, no matter what it took.

Because if there was one thing I'd learned in the military, it was that you never give up on something you believe in.

And I believed in the possibility of us.

Chapter seven

Amelia

My phone buzzed, rattling against the coffee table and nearly toppling my steaming mug of morning tea. I snatched it up, my bleary eyes widening as message after message flashed across the screen. Emily. Susan. Both were ranting about Frances's latest blog post.

With a growing sense of dread, I clicked the link. The page loaded, revealing a post titled "Love Blooms at the Ballpark: Amelia Carter and Trevor Phillips' Sizzling Reunion." There were photos of me at yesterday's baseball game splashed across the gossip blog in vivid color. Close-ups of my face, all dreamy-eyed admiration as I watched Trevor. Oh no. I wanted to crawl under my duvet and hibernate until the humiliation blew over.

My stomach plummeted as I scrolled through the article, zoomed-in photos of my every reaction to Trevor's home run on full display. There I was, cheering, jumping up and down, hands clasped to my heart. The caption read: "Amelia Carter, local florist, can't contain her excitement as her high school crush hits a homer. Is love in the air?"

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. This was a disaster. Had I really been that obvious? Maybe I'd gotten carried away in the moment. I mean, sure, Trevor's home run was impressive, but did I have to act like a starstruck teenager? What must he think of me now?

A sharp rap at the front door interrupted my spiral of self-doubt. I glanced down at my oversized pajamas, covered in cartoon flowers, and cringed. I peeked through the peephole, and my heart skipped a beat. Trevor stood on the other side, looking apologetic and determined.

Great. Just great. Of course, he'd show up now when I looked like this and felt completely unprepared.

With a sigh, I opened the door a crack. "Trevor, hi. What are you doing here?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but I could hear the nervousness in my own tone.

"Hey, Amelia." He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes flicking over my pajamas. "Can I come in? I think we should talk."

I hesitated, acutely aware of my messy bun and the fact that I resembled an overgrown toddler. But the earnest look in Trevor's eyes made me relent. "Fine, come on in. But no judging the pajamas, okay? They're comfy, even if they make me look like I raided a kindergartener's closet."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Trevor strode into my living room, his gaze lingering on my bunny slippers. Hero trotted obediently at his heels. His little nails clicked against the hardwood as he surveyed his new surroundings with alert brown eyes.

What was I thinking, letting him see me like this? He probably thought I was a complete mess. And why was he here? To confront me about my behavior at the game? To let me down gently.

"Um, don't mind the mess," I said, suddenly hyper-aware of every imperfection in my living room. "Can I get you some coffee or tea?"

"No, thanks." Trevor's eyes locked onto mine, and there was an intensity there that made my mouth go dry. "I think you know why I'm here, Amelia."

My heart raced. This was it. The moment of truth. No more dancing around these feelings. But was I ready for this conversation? What if I said too much? What if I scared him away?

"About the dinner invitation..." Trevor's voice was softer now, tinged with uncertainty. "And those photos Frances posted... I need to know, Amelia. Am I imagining this...this thing between us?"

My heart stumbled over itself like a clumsy ballerina. The vulnerability in his expression took me by surprise. Trevor Phillips, the epitome of calm and collected, looked at me like I held his heart in my hands. Oh, how I wanted to cradle it gently, to soothe away the doubt in his eyes.

"No, you're not imagining it," I said, the words tumbling out before I could second-guess myself. "I... I would have said yes to dinner. I was going to say yes. But I guess I've been confused."

There. It was out there. No take-backs. I couldn't look him in the eye. I fixated on a loose thread on my shirt, twisting it around my finger like I was trying to create the world's tiniest ball of yarn.

"Amelia." His voice was gentle, urging me to look up. When I finally did, I was met with a smile that took my breath away.

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that." Trevor took a step closer, his gaze never leaving mine. The air between us hummed with electricity, and I felt myself gravitating toward him, drawn in by the sheer force of his presence.

But then his smile faltered. "So wait, who was that guy you were talking to after the game?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Oh, that was just Liam. He's a...business associate." I rushed to explain, not wanting Trevor to get the wrong idea. "There's nothing romantic between us, I swear."

Trevor nodded, but the tension in his shoulders didn't quite dissipate. "I see." He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I'd come to recognize as a sign of nervousness. "So, what kind of business were you discussing? You looked awfully friendly."

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