Page 19 of Crushing On My Brothers BFF

“Hey, yeah, what’s up?”

“Have I caught you at a bad time?”

“No,” I say, trying to sound more upbeat. “I’m good. What’s up, man?”

“Just wanted to say thank you for everything. Realized I didn’t say it earlier.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” I tell him, a pit of pure pain opening in my gut.

“It means a lot, the fact you flew out here. I’m almost glad I fucked my leg up if it means dragging your ass back to the West Coast.”

I try to laugh. Hopefully, through the phone, Paul can’t tell how fake it sounds. “Just don’t mess up the other one if I have to leave.”

He answers sharply. “You’re leaving?”

I can hear the pain in his voice. If I told himyes, he would accept it. He wouldn’t argue with me or try to convince me to stay, but that’s part of being his best friend. He doesn’t need to explain for me to understand what he wants, and he wants me to stay.

“No,” I reply. “I was speaking hypothetically. You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“Awesome, yeah. Awesome.” He sounds so happy. I’m a monster. “I think Sophie’s happy you’re here too, honestly.”

I almost tear the steering wheel loose. Almost turn into the concrete separating oncoming and incoming traffic. Anything so I don’t have to speak about Sophie with him, after the kiss, after her curvy, thick hips in my hands where they belong. Fuck.Fuck. She’s mine. I can’t fight it, but I must.

“Oh yeah?” I say.

“She doesn’t have to try to cheer up my grumpy ass herself. Speaking of Sophie…”

He pauses, giving my thoughts a lot of time to torture me. Maybe she told him what happened.I know he’s your friend, but you need to know. The creep grabbed my leg like an unhinged beast and then pushed me against the wall and kissed me.

“Yeah?” I say when he doesn’t reply.

“Sorry.” He clears his throat. “I know it was my idea not to tell Sophie about the documentary, but I thought it might be good for her to know, even get involved. Videomaking is her passion and always has been. She’ll be able to get footage you won’t since she’s here more often. What do you think?”

I swallow. If we end up working on a project together, it’ll mean seeing her more often. That’s the last thing I should want afterwhat I did. I should do everything in my power to ensure itdoesn’thappen.

“I think it’s a great idea.”

Something must be wrong with me. I can tell myself I agree because of the excitement in my best friend’s voice. But deep down, there’s the possibility of being alone with Sophie again, feeling her curvy, perfect body, feeling the passion, the heat, hell, feelingalivefor the first time in years.

“You said she’s doing well at college,” I go on. “If she can use her skills here, great.”

“It’ll be a big opportunity for her, too,” he replies. “Working with Free Everywhere, but I must be upfront about something.”

These pauses are killing me, giving me way too much time to speculate about what he’s thinking or going to say.

“You have to be honest with her about her work,” he says. “Sophie hates feeling like she hasn’t earned something. It probably comes from me, you know, all the cash I got selling my shares to you. She doesn’t have to work her way through college. She doesn’t have to worry about debt. It weighs on her, even if she tries to hide it. If her work’s good, tell her. If not, be honest too.”

“I’m not much of a videographer, anyway,” I tell him. “A documentary maker. Whatever you want to call it. I won’t be the one judging her work.”

“Tell our people, then,” he says.

“Our,” I repeat, smiling despite everything. “It’s been a long time since I heard you talk aboutourbusiness.”

“Maybe lately, I’ve been thinking about a few things,” he replies.

Is life really going to be this cruel? I’ve waited to hear that Paul wants to work with me again for years, hoping and dreaming about what it would be like to have my best friend at my side again. Work was so much more enjoyable when he was around. However, am I going to learn this today, barely an hour after I grabbed his little sister’s perfect legs and kissed her perfect lips?

“I enjoy my life,” Paul goes on. “I get to do what I want when I want, but I’m forty. I’m starting to feel like an ass sometimes. Lately, I’ve been thinking I might need some direction, a sense of purpose, something except for the next trip.”

---