Page 4 of Falling Again For My Best Friend's Brother

Amelia

Sunlight streamed through my bedroom window, casting a warm glow across my face. I stretched lazily, enjoying the feel of my soft comforter against my skin.

Wait a second. Sunlight? My eyes flew open, and I bolted upright, glancing at the clock on my nightstand. 7 a.m. How in the world did I manage to sleep in this late? Trevor's daily morning racket usually jolted me awake by six at the latest.

Of course. The ONE day I had planned to confront him about his disruptive early bird shenanigans, he decided to be considerate. I flopped back against my pillows with a groan. Typical. The universe is probably laughing its cosmic socks off right now.

Well, no use lying here stewing like an overcooked petunia. I dragged myself out of bed, determined to have a conversation with him. As I slipped into my favorite yoga outfit—the teal one with little lotus flowers embroidered along the neckline—I rehearsed what I'd say.

"Trevor," I practiced in the mirror, trying to channel my inner diplomat. “We need to talk about your early morning routine. It's more disruptive than a rabbit in a seed store." I paused, frowning. "No, it's too flowery. Come on, Amelia, channel your inner Emily!"

I took a deep breath and tried again. "Trevor, your crack-of-dawn workouts are driving me nuts. We need to find a compromise before I lose my mind and start sleeping in the garden shed." Better, but still not quite right. Oh well, I'd wing it when the time came. What could possibly go wrong?

With my sort-of speech rehearsed, I made my way to the sunroom, ready for my peaceful yoga routine before the impending Trevor catastrophe.

I stepped into the sunroom, the warm morning light filtering through the large windows. Despite the peaceful surroundings, my mind was still preoccupied with the impending confrontation. I took a deep breath, trying to center myself—yoga first, difficult conversations later. I began my usual sun salutation sequence, focusing on my breathing and the gentle stretch of my muscles.

As I moved through the poses, my mind started to wander. Was I overreacting to Trevor's morning workouts? After all, he was in the military—early mornings were probably just part of his routine. Maybe that was what helped him reform. And it's not like he was intentionally doing it to annoy me.

I lifted my head during a downward dog, glancing out the window momentarily, and then I froze. Blinked. Rubbed my eyes. Blinked again. My gorgeous, meticulously maintained garden looked like it had been attacked by a horde of flower-hating gremlins armed with tiny bulldozers. Soil everywhere, plants uprooted, my prized rose bushes trampled like they'd hosted a rhinoceros square dance.

"What the..." I breathed, my yoga zen instantly evaporating. I stumbled out of my pose, my heart racing. I had to get a closer look.

Thoughts of confronting Trevor suddenly vanished from my mind. I raced outside, not even bothering to change out of my yoga clothes. I needed answers, and I needed them now.

The sight that greeted me outside was even worse than I'd feared. My carefully arranged rock garden was in complete disarray, the stones scattered haphazardly like a giant game of marbles gone wrong. And the holes—good lord, the holes. It looked like a team of gophers had declared war on my yard.

Just then, I heard the creak of the apartment door opening. I spun around to see Trevor emerging with a sheepish expression. Cradled in his arms, covered head to paw in dirt, was the unmistakable furry form of Hero. Great. Tweedledee and Tweedledum, the dynamic duo of destruction.

Trevor cleared his throat awkwardly. "Amelia, I...I'm so sorry. I ran this morning and left him off the leash while I was stretching and..."

I held up my hand, cutting him off. "Trevor, please tell me this isn't what it looks like. Please tell me my garden hasn't been turned into the world's messiest obstacle course for vertically challenged canines."

He grimaced, gently setting Hero down. The dog had the decency to look ashamed, his tail tucked between his legs. "I'm afraid it is. Hero must have thought it was a new digging spot. I take full responsibility, Amelia. I'll replant everything, I promise. I'll pay for all the damages."

I stared at him, at the genuine remorse etched on his face. A part of me wanted to unleash a tirade that would make a drill sergeant blush, but another part—the traitorous part that couldn't help but notice the way his t-shirt hugged his muscular frame like a second skin—made me hesitate. Great, Amelia. Focus on the muscles of the guy who just turned your garden into the botanical equivalent of a war zone. Real smooth.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. "Trevor, I appreciate the offer, but some of those plants were rare varieties. They can't just be replaced overnight."

"I understand," he said earnestly, his brown eyes locking with mine. "But I want to make this right, Amelia. Please, let me help. I promise I won't let Hero anywhere near the replanting process. Scout's honor."

Despite myself, I felt my anger starting to dissipate. There was just something about Trevor that made it impossible to stay mad at him for long. It was infuriating. "Okay, fine," I found myself saying, a small smile forming. "Let's do it, but on one condition."

Trevor raised an eyebrow. "Name it."

"Next time Hero needs a bathroom break," I said wryly, "maybe aim for the park instead of my petunias. My flowers aren't into extreme sports."

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that sent a tiny shiver down my spine. "Deal. I'll make sure Hero knows your garden is a no-go zone. Maybe I'll put up some 'No Digging' signs in doggy language."

As Trevor and Hero headed back inside, I took a deep breath, trying to center myself. Okay, Amelia, you can do this. It's just replanting a completely demolished garden with the guy who broke your heart in high school. No biggie. Just another day in the life of Amelia Carter, disaster magnet extraordinaire.

My musings were interrupted by the shrill ring of my phone. I glanced at the screen, my heart sinking as I saw my accountant's name flash across the display. Oh boy, this couldn't be good.

"Amelia, I'm afraid I have some bad news." His tone was grave, and I felt a knot of dread form in my stomach. "I've been going over the numbers for Petals & Blooms, and things aren't looking good."

I closed my eyes, the ruined garden blurring before me. "How bad is it?"

"If things don't turn around soon, you might be looking at closing up shop. Permanently."

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