Page 4 of Lit Up by My Brother's Best Friend

“Hunter?” she asks my name like it’s a question. “I hate to say it, but I think you were right. I’m about to pass—”

The line goes silent.

“Sweets?” I call her name. No answer.

“Sierra. Damn it. Answer me.” Now I’m running along the fence and I finally see her hanging from the fence. It’s dark and hard to spot her. My entire body is hot with anger. She didn’t even make it over the fence. She’s still on the side where she started her climb. And, damn it, she should have tried harder to free herself. What the hell was she thinking?

Fuck. This girl is going to be the death of me. Where the hell is her boyfriend—I cut that thought off. He’s such a prick. I’m glad she called me.

I’m right in front of her now, lifting her head. “Sweets?” I pat her cheek. Nothing. I look up and see where her pants got caught in some wires sticking out. When I tear her jeans—because I really don’t care about salvaging anything other than her and my sanity at this point—I feel her body break free from the fence. She slides down and into my arms.

I sit on the ground, cradling her. In the fall, a slip of paper had fluttered to the ground. I squint to see what it is. A ticket for the concert? What the hell is she climbing the fence for if she bought a ticket? But I don’t worry about that line of thinking.

Pulling her head against my chest, I hold her for a second. Probably the only second I’ll ever get with her. The scent of cinnamon wafts through my nose and makes a beeline to my heart. This girl.

I want to hold her for longer, but I know I should wake her up. We’ve got to check to make sure she’s alright. She’s not heavy at all, yet her body weighs on me. Lifeless.

God, I know she’s not lifeless, but I can’t shake the image of some of the other limp bodies I’ve held over the years. One in particular was lifeless, and it was the worst day of my life. In fact, it was one of the worst days for our entire town. Lit Creek still hasn’t recovered from the loss.

After that fire, no one has been the same. It’s like there’s a cloud hanging over the whole town. Where the hell is the sunshine? We don’t deserve it.Idon’t deserve it. The loss has been devastating. Especially for my family. She left behind five sons, a daughter, and a grieving husband. It’s been five years and we’re still lost without her.

It’s all my fault.

And I’ll never forgive myself for not being able to save her. My mom.

Chapter 3

SIERRA

“Sweets, are you alright?” I feel a warm hand cupping my jaw. It’s so soft. Tender. The touch that dreams are made of. My dreams. And yes, I have had this dream many times. It’s so familiar that this time it actually feels real.

And that voice is like honey. It’s dripping over me and I just want to lick it all up. That makes no sense. But then again, neither does the darkness. Or the chill. I hear a moan and wonder where it came from until I realize that it’s me.

Me? I moaned? What the—

And then I’m alert. Enough. I know exactly whose arms I’m in. And why. Oh my God. I’m such a dingus. Yes, I said it. Dingus. My peabrain really set me back tonight, and I don’t want to open my eyes because I know I’ll have to look into the most gorgeous set of blues known to mankind. Womankind. All of humankind has never known such blues.

And though all five of the Anderson brothers have blue eyes (I think), his are definitely the bluest. Pictures have been painted to imitate his blue. Poetry has been written to pay tribute to his particular shade. Fantasies have been played out with those baby blues. Okay. Yes. I painted. I poeted. I fantasized. And no, poeted is not a word, but Ireally need it to be right now. Just give me this one. Please. Because it was all me. He’s been the one deliciously tormenting me in my dreams. I say tormenting because I knew I could never have him. And…oh my God, I’m just going to come out and say it, even though it sounds so lame. He’s too cool for me.

I’ve loved—whoa, that might be a bit much—him since I first laid eyes on him. Knowing I could never have him, I set my sights a bit lower. Alright, a whole helluva lot lower. To Brady. Well, he was…there. And there was better than…not there. And me and Brady liked each other enough. At least in the beginning. The last few years have been long distance. And I should have felt the distance for what it really was. Emotional. Not just physical.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when he returned from one of his filming stints and dumped me. I mean, the guy thought people would go nuts over watching him eat ketchup chips in every country.

Ketchup chips. It’s a Canadian thing. Eh? Anyway, he thought people would get a kick out of it. So far he’s made it to a total of two countries. And Canada is one of them. Needless to say, the guy is clearly going places.

Brady might have been setting the bar a bit low considering it started so high with Hunter.

But ya. Hunter has been the one that got away (that I never actually had) and who I know is too good for me.

There. I said it all.

Whew. It’s out there now. Feels like a bit of a burden eased from my shoulders.

But then that tender voice and just a whisper of a brush from his thumb over my lips has me rattled. “Sweets?”

“Hmm?” I’m more alert than I pretend to be. But I don’t want him to know it. That thumb is feeling pretty nice on my chapped lips. Damn it. Why didn’t I put chapstick on?

His fingers are trailing down my neck into my hair.

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