Page 13 of Falling For My Best Friend's Brother

“Fuck your no! My toes are going numb!”

“Then put on some fucking socks," I snapped, glaring at her. “I’m not touching the thermostat just because you decided to wear next to nothing.”

Her eyes flashed with irritation, and my gaze traveled to her breasts since she was so close to me. Fuck. Why did they look so damn good? I was rabid. What was wrong with me?

“You’re such a dick, you know that? It literally wouldn’t kill you to turn it up a few degrees.”

“And it wouldn’t kill you to deal with it,” I shot back. “Or did you think parading around half-naked would make me fawn over you like everyone else in your life?”

Her gaze burned with hatred. “I’m this close to losing my patience with you. I swear to God.”

I stepped into her, the heat between us igniting my blood. My head was spinning with her lavender scent, adding to the smoldering flames surrounding us.

“What are you going to do, Nina?”

“Let me go,” she spat with venom.

I realized then that my hand was still wrapped around her arm. I should’ve dropped it, but I suddenly didn’t want to. Her skin was soft beneath my touch, and I was enjoying the close proximity.

Holy fuck,I thought.I’m enjoying this push and pull. Who would have thought?

“Make me,” I replied, my grip tightening.

Nina bared her teeth, her pupils flaring. For a split second, I saw something in her gaze—something that made my pulse quicken. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a look of pure defiance.

“Why do you have to be such a controlling ass? It’s just a thermostat.”

“Because it’s not just the temperature,” I yelled, feeling the stress of the last couple of months weigh down on me. “It’s about you always pushing my buttons, always trying to get your way with your fake attitude and faux modesty. And I’m sick of it.”

“You’re sick of it? You’re the one who always needs to be in control, always dictating how things should be. I have no idea when you became the moral police but newsflash—you sound like a boring old man whenever you speak!”

My jaw clenched. I leaned in closer, lowering my voice to a dangerous whisper. “You’re one to talk about morals. Look at you. You’re dressed like a common whore, flaunting your body and trying to get my attention. Because the truth is, when you’renot the center of attention, you lose your mind, because you know deep down, you’re shallow.”

Nina jerked her arm out of my grip in a flash, taking me off guard, though I was quick enough to read her next movements. Raising her hand, she attempted to bring it down on my cheek, but I wrapped a grip around her wrist just in time, stilling her.

“Fucking piece of shit,” she spat, chest heaving as her face colored a bright red, a few shades lighter than her hair. “You’re the rudest, most antagonistic asshole I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

I stared blankly at her. “Hmm. Talk dirty to me.”

“Ugh!” she screamed, using her upper body strength to draw herself away from me. “Move the fuck out already! I fucking hate you!” She spun on her heels and marched down the hallway, her bedroom door slamming behind her.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, finally feeling the chill of the air as goosebumps crept up my skin. I rubbed my hands down my face, opening my eyes.

What was I doing? Why did I keep humoring her by reacting so aggressively to every move she made? I was supposed to be the bigger person here. Literally. I had nine years and several inches on the girl.

Sighing dejectedly, I reached forward to turn up the temperature before stalking back to the kitchen to finish preparing mydinner. I no longer had an appetite, but I already started cooking and abandoning that halfway seemed like a pussy move.

As the seconds ticked away, the silence that surrounded me grew deafening. I briefly wondered if I’d been right to say those things to Nina. If you asked most of the people around me to describe me, the first thing they would say is that I was jaded. And I agreed.

It’d been years since my outlook on life changed. I still remember that night as though it was yesterday. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. What stood out the most was the disappointment I’d felt in myself.

As a young adult, I’d learned many lessons, the most important of which was that life is unfair to the poor. Maybe if my family had been in a better financial situation, things might have turned out differently. But we weren’t, and life had happened to us in the most brutal way.

My misgivings about Nina had nothing to do with her as a person. Sure, she was annoying, spoiled, and acted like a child ninety-nine percent of the time, but those were surface level issues that could be overlooked.

It was the fact that she was trying to be someone she wasn’t that pissed me off. She’d come to see Lindsay when they were in high school, and Mom would invite her to stay for dinner—a measly chicken sandwich she managed to scramble together ingredients for from the little money I brought home. Nina would sit at the table, all fucking smiles like she was mocking us, and be the firstto finish her sandwich as if it was the best thing she’d tasted in her life. As though she wasn’t going home to some grand feast meant for kings while the rest of us were forced to make do.

Nina never had to eat those sandwiches, but she did. Sometimes, we had no food at all, and yet she never once complained. Or at least, I didn’t hear anything from my sister. But I knew deep down that to Nina, our life—her relationship with Lindsay—was a “what-if” experiment. No one was that happy around poor people.

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