Page 13 of Dating Her Brother's Best Friend

"Big trouble," I growl. God only knows how many of the kids Simon showed this to. They’ll all be at home tonight, asking their parents what clueless asshole and fucking idiot means. Oh my God. I have to kill Jeremy.

Simon bobs his little head like he suspected as much, reaching into his pocket to pull out yet another note. This one is thicker.

"I told him to write you an apology for whatever he did, Miss Steele." He holds the paper out to me, beaming with pride. "He did it! Now you have to forgive him."

I reluctantly accept the note, trying to hide the way my hands shake. "You should get to your bus, buddy. You don't want to miss it."

"Okay." He slings his backpack over his shoulder, starts for the door, and then pauses, turning to look at me. "You really should forgive him, Miss Steele. He's sad without you."

My heart clenches. The thought of him hurting kills me.

"He didn't do anything wrong," I whisper, my throat raw.

"But you said..."

"I know." I sigh. Giving a curse-filled note to a seven-year-old wasn’t his finest moment, but before that? "It's complicated, adult stuff, buddy. Go on to your bus."

Simon huffs in annoyance, making his opinion ofadult stuffcrystal clear, before slinking out of my office, leaving me alone with Jeremy's letter. I stare at it for a long time, slightly afraid toopen it, before I cross back to my desk, easing myself down into my chair.

Is he really sad without me?

God, I'm miserable not talking to him. I was so sure when I kicked him off my porch that I was doing the right thing. That he was in love with someone else and was just having a stupid moment or something. But it doesn't feel like the right thing anymore. It feels all wrong.

I slowly open the letter.

Dear Caroline,

Two days ago, I received an email from a mystery woman, professing her feelings for me. For a brief moment, I let myself wonder if it could be you finally answering every prayer I've had since the day we met. But I convinced myself it was impossible. An angel in love with a motherfucker like me? Yeah, right.

So, I set aside the fantasy and tried to let her down easy. I couldn't say yes to her. My heart has always belonged to someone else. You.

I was sick when I looked at your phone and saw my response staring back at me. Knowing you left the bar thinking I love someone else is killing me, sweets. So, I'm writing this to tell you what I would have said had I known you were behind that email.

I don't need a date with you to know I want more. I don't need a single second to figure out how I feel about you. I've known for years that I'm crazy about you. Your heart was set on college, and I wasn't going to stand in your way. But my dream was always you in a white dress, standing at the end of an aisle, promising you'd be mine forever.

It's killing me to know I made you cry. And it's breaking my fucking heart that I broke yours. I'm so damn sorry, baby.

Please, talk to me. Let me fix this. You'll never doubt how I feel about you again.

All my tomorrows,

Jeremy

I drop his letter to my desk and cover my face with my hands, choking on a sob.

"You're killing me, sweets," he says suddenly. "You know how much I hate it when you cry."

I glance up to find him leaning against the door frame, pain in his cobalt eyes as he watches me.

I don't think. I just react.

I launch myself out of my chair, flinging myself at him.

"I'm an i-idiot," I sob, hitting him like a meteor.

He catches me, hauling me up against his chest. His strong arms close around me, his face nuzzling into my neck. "You aren't an idiot, sweets. I am. I should have told you a long time ago how I feel about you."

"I sh-shouldn't have used the m-matchmaker." That’s where everything went wrong. She was just trying to help, but I screwed it all up, insisting I had to be anonymous. Why didn’t I just approach him as me?

---