Page 7 of Dating Her Brother's Best Friend

I’m not mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with the sight of him right now.

“What are you doing here?” I demand.

Worry flares in his cobalt eyes as he pushes away from the railing. “Came to check on you,” he says, his voice a deep rumblethat makes my stomach ache the way it always does. “What’s wrong, sweets? Talk to me.”

Talk to him? And tell him what? That he broke my heart into tiny pieces that I already know I’ll never be able to put back together? Or maybe that I’ve stupidly envisioned every moment of my future as being with him since the moment I met him? No, thanks. I’ve said more than enough for one day.

“I told you I didn’t feel well,” I lie. “You should probably go before you catch whatever I have.”

He narrows his eyes on me, pausing in front of me. “I’m not afraid of catching anything from you, Caroline.”

“Yeah, well, other people in your life might not feel the same way. You really shouldn’t make that decision for them,” I say.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means… go home.”

“Hell no. Not until you talk to me. We both know you didn’t run out of there because you’re sick. Tell me why you really ran.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie again, crossing my arms defensively.

“Yeah, you do.” He steps toward me, his eyes flashing in a way that makes my whole body ache. Jeremy is as calm as the deepest parts of the ocean. There are hidden depths and currents to him no one ever sees. He’s also as immovable as a mountain… more stubborn than I am. He doesn’t dig his heels in often, but when he does, there is no moving him. He does exactly what he wants, how he wants, and damn what anyone says.

It’s the sexiest thing to me. And he has that look in his eyes right now—like he isn’t going to give up or back down until he gets exactly what he wants. I shouldn’t find it nearly as attractive as I do. And yet, anytime he looks at me like that, I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to have that implacable focus unleashed on me, to be the one thing in the world he wants badly enough to dig in his heels for and fight like hell.

God help me, but I want to know what it’s like to have him all over me when he’s like this. I’ve dreamed about it so many times it’s ridiculous. But he isn’t mine. And I don’t get to have those fantasies anymore.

“I didn’t run, Jeremy. I walked slowly and carefully. And then I drove my ass home and went to sleep on my couch.” I scowl at him. “Where I’d still be if you weren’t out here bugging me now. So, if you don’t mind…” I turn for the door, intending to leave him standing on the porch, arguing with himself.

Before I can even take a step, he hooks an arm around my waist, hauling me up against his chest. His hand tangles in my hair, his lips coming down on mine in a hard kiss. I gasp in shock, only to find his tongue sweeping inside my mouth, stealing my breath.

“Goddamn,” he breathes against my lips, squeezing my hip.

The sound of his voice… the feel of his hands on my body… the scent of his cologne swirling around me… Hell, even the heat of his big body searing into me feels like cold water poured over my head. The man of my dreams is kissing me after admitting that he’s in love with someone else.

Oh. Hell. No.

I jerk myself out of his arms, making sure I stomp on his foot in the process. “Don’t ever touch me again,” I hiss. “I swear to God, Jeremy. I will shiv you if you do.”

“Caroline, baby, wait…”

“And don’t call me that!” I cry, storming inside. “I won’t be a homewrecker! Not even for you!”

“Caroline, dammit. You’ve got it all?—”

I slam the door on him so hard the glass panes rattle in the sill, and immediately flip the lock. Naturally, he tries turning the door knob two seconds later.

Tears well in my eyes.

“Caroline!” he shouts, frustration seething in his tone. “Open the damn door. We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t!” I shout back, my heart pounding as anger and sadness race through me. “Go home, or I’m calling Asa.”

“Please, open the door,” he calls.

“Go home!” I press my hand to my mouth, trying to hide the way my voice cracks on a barely-restrained sob. He’s in love with someone else, but he just freaking kissed me! The man of my dreams is a jerk. Talk about a double whammy. He shattered my heart and my illusions all in one stupid day.

Either he hears me crying, or he finally realizes that I’m serious because when he speaks again, he sounds stricken, like he’s in pain. “Christ, Caroline,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. I’m going to fix it. I promise, I’ll fix it. Just… don’t cry, sweets.”

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