Page 7 of My Brother's Best Friend

I must’ve been some kind of game to him.How many beers do I have to drink in order to sleep with my best friend’s little sister? How blackout drunk do I have to get? How easy is she to bag?

Alec Wolfe was friends and teammates with my ex-boyfriend, Spencer. And I would never forget how that had turned out, the damn horror he had put me through after he slept with me for the first time.

“What?”

After leaping up, I grabbed his hand and his clothes, then dragged him to my bedroom door. He stumbled after me, nearly planting face-first into the wall.

“Get out of my bedroom. This never happened.”

“The hell you mean?” he asked, refusing to let me push him out the door.

“This. Never. Happened,” I said between gritted teeth. “Now, get out.”

Alec stared at me for a few moments, his hazy expression twisting into a mix of anger and … the same expression he always had when he lost a hockey game. Then, he slid his tongue across his lower lip and tugged on his shorts. “Fine. It never happened, Sandra.”

Anger rushed through me, and I smacked him hard across his face. My chest tightened, hot tears welling in my eyes. I didn’t want him to remember that he had slept with me, but had he really thought he was with Sandra this entire time?

It hurt like a motherfucker.

“Get out,” I growled, shoving him out of my bedroom and slamming the door.

When Alec finally left, I pressed my back against the door and cursed out loud for allowing myself to be another one of his fucktoys. It was stupid.Iwas stupid. I shouldn’t have fallen for that arrogant smirk of his, should’ve made him leave as soon as he came into my room.

My phone buzzed from my bedside table, and I ran a hand through my messy hair.

Fuck, I am supposed to be at Vera’s.

I snatched it and peered down, expecting to see Vera’s contact, but instead, I was met with an unknown number.

Unknown: Stay away from Alec Wolfe. He’s mine.

CHAPTER4

ALEC

Ishould’ve never fucking touched her.

Growling to myself, I stumbled down the stairs and pushed through the grinding bodies. After picking up a random red Solo cup from a side table near the alcohol-stained white couch, I threw it back and let it burn the back of my throat.

Even while I was drunk, her rejection still hurt like a fucking bitch.

Why couldn’t I keep my hands off her? Stay away from her? She was my best friend’s little sister, who I had barely talked to in the five years I had known her. But, God, she was beautiful—fucking beautiful—and it pissed me off most days.

Because I could never fucking find the words to say to her.

And the one night I had … she had kicked me out of her bedroom and told me that this never happened. I’d said Sandra’s name just to piss her off, like she had me, but when her face dropped, I’d felt even more like an asshole.

“Alec,” Sandra screeched, dragging her claws all over my chest. “Come dance!”

When she wrapped her arms around my waist and drew me closer to her, I pushed her back. “Get the fuck off me, Sandra. And stop telling people that we’re dating,” I growled, annoyed that she was such an insecure bitch that she had to lie. “We’re not.”

She dropped her hand and grazed it over the front of my jeans. “You don’t want?—”

“I said to get off me,” I snapped, ripping myself away from her and storming toward the back door. I grabbed another drink from someone else—my vision was too blurry to see straight anymore.

“Alec,” she cried, following after me, “we need to talk about what happened!”

The fuck is she talking about? Us?

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