Page 8 of Crushing On My Brothers BFF

“You want to recordhere?”

“The more intimate, the better, right? Come on before these damn meds put me to sleep again. Wait, before I forget.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you persuade Sophie to go home? She needs to rest.”

“She wants to be here for you,” I tell him. “I’m not sure what I can say.”

“Please.”

I nod. “Okay, consider it done.” However, I’m not surehowI’ll persuade her. “Anyway, you’ll be home soon, too. I’m going to arrange for a nurse, home care, everything you need.”

“You don’t?—”

“Idohave to do it.”

Mainly because, even as I sit here with my mangled, broken friend, part of my mind is still on his little sister.

“Fair enough,” he laughs weakly. “No point arguing with you sometimes, and one last thing. It might be better to keep the video angle hidden from Sophie. She might not understand.”

Pathetically, a wave of relief washes through me. “I feel dirty just thinking about work.”

“But you have to,” he says. “Right, let’s get on with it. Ask me how I’m feeling. Ask me if I’m worried about being bedbound. Give me a chance to…” He pauses, sucking in a trembling breath. “Complain.”

CHAPTER SIX

Sophie

“Yeah, I know,” I say when Kaleb tells me what Paul said. “He asked me to go home, too, but how can I?”

Being this close to Kaleb and keeping up the coldness is so difficult. Just being near him, despite the circumstances, makes me want to smile like a giddy idiot. Guilt twists through me every time I resist the urge to grin.

“He’s going to be home soon,” I tell her. “I’ve already put arrangements in place. By tomorrow, my people will have sorted it. The best nurse. The best care. The best rehab specialists. To get better, Paul can’t be worrying about you. This is best for himandyou.”

“I can see why you’re so good at business,” I mutter, not looking at him.

He might think it’s because I’m pissed about having to leave. He’ll never guess it’s because looking at him makes me want to do so many inappropriate, impossible things. He’d never thinkthat I’m fighting the desire to stroke my hand over his body right now.

“It’s the truth,” he says. “Do you need a ride?”

“Uh, I can call a cab.”

“You didn’t drive here?” he asks.

“My friend gave me a ride. I was too stressed, honestly.”

“That’s understandable. Let me drive you.”

I finally look up, and our eyes meet. He seems so much more distant than the last time we were together. I remember our hands brushing when he handed me the gift box with the camera, the electricity that sparked up my arm, the hunger. There was so much heat in that one moment, so much impossibility. Onmyend. Inmymind. He wasn’t experiencing any of that.

Now, he’s ice, but he doesn’t have to make an effort with me anymore. I’m not a dorky kid that he has to be sweet to, for my brother’s sake. I’m an adult who can take his genuine feelings toward me, which are clearly indifference.

“I don’t mind calling a cab.”

His lip twitches into an almost smirk. “And I don’t mind giving you a ride. Anyway, do you think Paul would forgive me if I made you get a cab? He’d kick my ass.”

“Ha, ha,” I say sarcastically. “He’d never do that.”

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