Page 13 of The Wrong Brother

“Oh, just a swanky invite to the engagement festivities of my former friend, Pressley. She’s marrying my ex-boyfriend. The one who cheated on me. With her.”Could I sound more bitter?

“Why would they invite you?”

I swallow thickly, battling my feelings. Gah. This shouldn’t still bother me this much. “Her parents are my newest, biggest clients at work. They don’t know about the cheating. Apparently, judging by how they talked at our meeting, they don’t even remember that Connor was my boyfriend first. And, big bonus, he’s managing the business so I was forced to be in the same room with him and will be working directly with him on this account.”

“That sucks.”

“Right? Thank you! Well, screw her. I’m not going.” I drop my head down on the pillows, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. “Shit. I have to go. I bet Bob already mentioned it to my boss. They talked about networking and the people they wanted me to meet as their CPA. I’m sure Mattingly is salivating at the prospect.”

“This feels like a solid Hug Friends moment,” he quips. I laugh despite myself. Rafferty picks me up easily, sitting me carefully in his lap to keep my weight away from my left side, and holds me. I feel safe and comfortable in his arms, far more than I should.

“How can I go? It’s not like showing up as me—single, celibate, pathetic Catherine who reads romance novels and has no friends—is going to show Pressley and Connor that I’m better off without them. And then, after being made to feel like a total loser, I’m going to have to network?! That may be even worse!” I drop my head, lean into him, and sigh. A memory floats to the surface of my mind: Rafferty nibbling at Mina’s ear and kissing her neck. Recently a guy had been following Mina and wouldn’t take no for an answer. The four of us ended up having dinner together and when stalker guy showed up, Rafferty pretended like he was Mina’s boyfriend. Seeing tall, buff, hot Rafferty made the guy leave in a huff.

“You could come with me,” I blurt out.

9

rafferty

This is fairly unbelievable. Catherine is in my arms, warm and snuggled close. Her long, bare legs are stretched out with her arms wrapped around my back and her head on my shoulder. We should have become Hug Friends a long time ago. I’m thinking about how nice this feels and trying not to remember the sensation of sliding her panties up over her hip bone and off of her ass. Those thoughts will get me in trouble, especially with her in my lap. I wonder what kind of moronic asshole is lucky enough to be with Catherine and cheats? She deserves so much better. I’m distracted enough to miss what she says the first time and she has to repeat herself.

“You could come with me.”

My brain is having trouble connecting that statement with anything solid. My thoughts were miles away.

“Wait, what are we talking about?”

She pulls back, her hands now on my sides, her blue eyes earnest. “Remember what you did for Mina? Pretending to be her boyfriend so that guy would leave her alone? What if you did that for me? I mean,wouldyou consider doing that for me? You could come to the engagement stuff with me, as my date. Then I’d have someone to talk to that doesn’t want to hurt me, and I won’t look like such a loser in front of them.”

I’m thinking about it, considering the offer, but I can already tell it’s not quite right. Not for what she truly needs. The idea makes my palms feel sweaty and my heart rate pick up. This could be the opening I’ve been longing for.

“That won’t work.” Her face falls and her hands slide down my sides. All of the touching is very distracting and I need to focus. “What I mean is: The Cheating Pair won’t be convinced by a random date. It’s not enough.”

She’s nibbling on her full bottom lip, her fingers fidgeting at my waist. “Whatwouldbe enough? What would you suggest?”

“Go big. You don’t need a random plus one, you need a boyfriend. If you want them to see that they didn’t damage you and you’re doing great without them, you need a partner.”You need me.

“That does sound more impressive than a mere date.”

“I’m not sure you should rush into this though. When’s the party?”

She looks down at the discarded invitation on the couch next to us. “Six weeks.”

“Plenty of time. At least think about it over the weekend. You can let me know what you decide. If you weigh all the options and still want my help, we can work out the details sometime this week.”

She agrees. I know her, Catherine needs time to make lists and think things through, logically and rationally. She’s not a rash person. She yawns, using the back of her hand to cover her mouth.

“It’s not even late, I don’t know why I’m so worn out.”

“It was a long, weird day. All those emotions take their toll. Do you want to go to bed?”

She nods shyly.

“I’d feel better if you let me carry you.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s some bruises. Anyway, I need to use the bathroom.”

“At least let me walk you.” I act as her support as she hobbles down the hallway, wait for her outside the bathroom, then help her into bed. She slips between the sheets, her t-shirt riding up enough to make me ache. No one has ever looked so good in an old oversized t-shirt.

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