Page 32 of Crushing On My Brothers BFF

“Coffee or something?” she asks.

I shrug, hating this awkwardness between us. “Sure.”

She walks ahead of me, and I can’t help it. I have to look. My gaze moves to her tantalizing ass. She looks over her shoulder, catches me looking, smiles cutely, and then turns away, but I can see the nervousness in her eyes.

She drops the spoon three times in the kitchen before getting it into the coffee mug.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Did something happen? Is Paul okay?”

“He’s fine. Well, he’s not fine, but no different. No, it’s okay. It doesn’t matter.”

“Whatdoesn’t matter?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “My lack of sleep. It’s not important.”

“I guess you were stressed out,” I mutter. “I didn’t sleep much either.”

She bites her lip.Fuck. I both wish she’d stop doing thatandwant her to keep doing it forever.

“Yeah, that wasn’t great, was it? I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“I didn’t mean to storm off.”

“It’s a lot to handle, isn’t it?” she murmurs.

I don’t have to ask what she’s referring to byit. She’s talking about our connection, the irresistibility of it. “We could do a better job.Icould. It’s my responsibility.”

“Why do you say that?”

I gesture at my head. “Gray hair. It means I’m in charge.”

She smiles tightly. “I don’t think that’s fair.Iwasn’t fair yesterday, honestly.”

I wave a hand. “It’s probably best if we…”

But I can’t finish the sentence. It feels too wrong. Even thinking about it feels wrong.

“If we forget it ever happened?” she finishes for me, making it a question.

I nod. “That would be the mature option.”

“Itwouldbe,” she says as if she knows it’s only hypothetical, and we can’t.

She’s about to scoop coffee into the second mug when she shudders and ends up knocking the mug onto the floor. I rush around the kitchen divider, kneeling down and picking up the bigger shards. “We’ll need a vacuum or a dustpan and brush.”

She nods, turns to the sink, and then just stays like that, with her back to me. A moment later, she starts shuddering. At first, my mind wonders if she’s shuddering for a different reason, but then I hear her sob. My heart feels like it cracks down the middle.

“Sophie…”

I walk up behind her. I’m about to put my hands on her shoulders when she turns, staring at me with teary eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” I growl, struggling to hold back everything I want to say. I want to tell her that no matter what’s making her cry, we will fix it together. I’ll tear any bastard to pieces who’d dare to hurt her.

I know it’s a mistake. I know it could lead to more heartache and arguments, but I reach up anyway and place my hand on her shoulder as gently as possible. It’s difficult when all I want is to pull her against me, let her feel the protective heat, let her feelhow hungry I am for her. Always. With her brother sleeping in the next room.

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