Dating My Brother's Best Friend

by Kate Swain

  “Maddy?” my friend’s voice interrupted my thoughts. I was scrolling through pictures on Facebook, trying to distract myself from thoughts of last night, all of which centered around the man I saw again after almost six years.

  Mark is the hottest guy ever.

  I couldn’t stop my mind from returning to him, again and again, like a moth moving toward a flame. I was captivated. I filled in his face in my mind—his high cheekbones, blue eyes, that sexy grin. I had never actually crushed on anyone like I did on this guy.

  Which is stupid, considering his best friend.

  Mark’s best friend was Adam, my big brother. Which meant, more or less, that Mark was the one man in Kansas City that was off-limits. Adam didn’t like the idea of me getting together with him, and had given me that message in no uncertain terms when I was a teen.

  “Mark is a player, Maddy. He might be my best friend and a great guy, but he’s not the sort of man I want for my sister.”

  He’d said that on the night of the dance when I’d met Mark, all those years ago. I remember the low note in his voice, the concern in his eyes. If I ever went anywhere near Mark, it would break his heart.

  It was a real shame, I thought, with my cheeks flaming, that he was the one man that I wanted. I recalled the way we’d said goodbye the previous evening. It hadn’t been passionate, just a touch of my lips to his cheek. But, all the same, it had lit me up inside the way a full-on kiss from somebody else couldn’t do.

  “Maddy?”

  I blinked, remembering that Becca was there, and where I was. We were sitting together at our favorite restaurant. Becca had been talking to her cousin on the phone, but she’d clearly stopped talking, and now she was looking at me, a small frown on her face.

  “So?” she asked, when she had my attention again. “You want to go shopping?”

  I shrugged. “If you like,” I said without excitement. “It would be fun. We haven’t had a chance to do that together for a long time.” I grinned, aware of the exaggeration I’d made.

  She chuckled. “Always dramatic.” She touched my hand fondly. “I’ve missed you. It has been way too long since I’ve had a chance to shop with your good taste as a guide.”

  I looked at her with a warm smile. “Well, you seem to manage just fine without my so-called “good taste.” I squeezed her fingers. “You look stunning.”

  She did. Her auburn hair was styled messily while her eyes—a captivating ocher-brown—were brought into contrast with her emerald button-down blouse. She had big earrings, brown-red lipstick and cinnamon-smelling perfume.

  “Thanks,” she grinned. “But, honestly… I don’t think I’m anywhere near as stunning as you. And I know that somebody sure agrees with me.” She raised one shapely eyebrow.

  “Who?” I was genuinely baffled.

  In response, she laughed, flapping her hand at me. “Come on, girl! You know who… Mark Brand. Or was I the only one who noticed how he was watching you yesterday night?”

  I blushed. “He wasn’t,” I murmured. I could feel my cheeks heating up and I knew I didn’t believe that. Not really. Becca didn’t either.

  “Come on, girl!” she repeated, patting my hand fondly. “You know he was. And you know that he thought you were the most stunning woman in the room, hands down.”

  I raised my eyebrow, showing my disbelief. “You think Mark Brand, well-known playboy, would really pay any real interest in me? He was checking out all the girls in the room, I’m sure.”

  Becca just looked at me. “No,” she said. “Seriously. I don’t think he noticed any other girls. You were the only girl who existed for him. The rest of us might as well be invisible.”

  “No, come on,” I chuckled. “I’m sure that isn’t true.” I raised an eyebrow again. “Besides… you know nobody thought you were invisible.”

  “Maybe not,” she said, and I saw her dark-painted lips tilt. “Say… when you’re at home, you might invite me over. That brother of yours is looking great these days.”

  I laughed, seeing the sparkle in her eye. “You two… you know what? Why don’t you just ask him out already? What’s the big wait?”

  She chuckled. “I don’t think he wants to go out with me. He’d have asked me out already.”

  “You want to bet?” I gave her a sidelong look. “I know my brother. He’d wait the rest of eternity, if you let him.”

  She just gave me a skeptical glance. I cleared my throat. “So?” I asked. “Shall we go shopping?”

  “Sure,” Becca nodded. “Not that you’re going to need much besides that red sweater. Seeing the way Mark stared at you last night, you’d think we could all do with one.”

  I laughed. “Will you stop it about Mark? It’s not like he’s the only guy in the world. There are others just as nice.”

  “Really?” Becca grinned. “Well, I have my own opinion on who’s hot around here, but I have to admit that Mark is a good-looking man.”

  “Tell me about it.” I rolled my eyes. “I thought he was hot six years ago. Now he’s red hot.”

  Becca laughed loudly. “Yeah, he is, isn’t he! Those muscles…” she made a big-eyed face.

  I grinned, feeling my panties melt thinking of him. “We should go and check out the shops,” I said firmly, changing the subject. “Before they get too crowded.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Becca pushed back her seat with a smile. “I wanted to go past Grayton’s Boutique—we passed it on the way in here. They had this gorgeous dress in the front window. It’s dark green and I know it’ll look great with my hair.” She smiled.

  I giggled. “It will,” I agreed. Becca was always a little vain, but in the best way. I loved it about her, like I loved her loud laugh, her big smile, and her self-confidence. She was my role model.

  We went to the boutique and Becca tried on the dress. It did look stunning on her. She grimaced at the price tag.

  “I’ll have to sell another house first,” she said.

  We both laughed.

  Becca did not want to lose the dress, so she had a long conversation with the sales clerk about options. The clerk agreed to hold the dress for her for a month. Becca was happy. As she left the store, I followed her out glad that she’d be able to buy her dress after all. I had no doubt that she’d make the money in a month.

  “You’re a great realtor, Becca,” I affirmed, smiling.

  “Thanks,” she said. She turned and took my hand firmly. “Which reminds me. When we’ve done a bit more shopping, we should sit down together, get some coffee, and talk about your studio.”

  I nodded. My stomach tingled pleasantly with the thought of it. Making arrangements for the studio of my dreams was my favorite thing right now.

  Well, daydreams of Mark occupied my mind almost as much. But I knew those dreams were not going to come to anything based on Adam’s stares at him at the table last night. Better to focus on the dance studio dreams.

  “Oh! Look!” Becca’s yell interrupted my thoughts. “Shoes! In the same shade of green as the dress.”

  She was pointing into the window of an affordable shoe store, and I followed her in. I could do with a pair of ballerina flats.

  The selection was great. We’d spent almost an hour trying on shoes, giggling at the sight of us in platforms and parading in heels together. It was pretty clear that the sales assistant wished we’d either buy something or go away. We left the store and Becca hauled me into a café.

  “Come on! I’m thirsty. And we can talk about the dance studio. I have a pamphlet…” She sat down, heels clicking on the tiles, already rummaging around in her big handbag. She pulled out a brochure, then flopped it open in front of me.

  “Wow,” I breathed.

  Highlighted in yellow marker, the advertisement showed a beautiful wood-floored space. The windows were long and filled the room with natural light. There were also full-length mirrors down one wall—perfect for dance students. There was enough floor space based on the photos to host about twenty-five students. I
looked across at her.

  “How much is it?” I asked.

  “Well,” Becca raised an eyebrow. “Normally, too much.” She ran a finger down the page. “It’s the size you wanted—six-hundred square feet—but the price is negotiable. The owner wanted a little more than four dollars per square foot, but I think he’s open to negotiation.”

  I swallowed hard. That would be way out of my price range by more than double. If I was even thinking about it, he’d have to halve the price. I looked at the pictures again, my heart fell.

  I could picture the students in there, hear them laughing. I could see them in the mirrors, practicing their posture and steps. I could hear music, loud and modern and alive.

  I looked at Becca. “Can we negotiate?” I asked. She saw the longing in my eyes and instinctively patted my hand.

  “Yeah. As luck would have it, they are regular customers. We’ve rented out their offices before, and they kind of owe my boss now.” She continued, “I think we can manage something. If you meet with them on Monday.”

  “This Monday?” I yelled. I realized how loud my voice was, and put a hand to my mouth, feeling self-conscious. She grinned and I felt my heart racing excitedly.

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “This Monday. Only if you’re ready for it. Not that I think that they’ll give us a second chance, but we could maybe make them wait until next week, if we really tried…” she shrugged, evidently leaving the decision to me.

  I nodded. “Yes,” I said firmly.

  She smiled, relieved. “Good. Well, then I’ll call my boss, and see if we can set up a meeting. I need to be in the office until two, but I think I can make a two-thirty meeting. We’ll meet at the space so you can check it out first-hand and see what you think. Sound good?”

  I nodded, feeling giddy. “Sounds good.”

  We talked for a bit longer, and then she had to go. She had a client who wanted to see a house. I wished her luck. She kissed my cheek flamboyantly.

  “Bye, girl. See you Monday. Okay? Looking forward to it.”

  “I really am,” I said, surprised by how intensely I did so.

  On the way home, I shut my eyes for a moment, dreaming of my dance studio. I couldn’t believe how good it had felt to see such a promising space.

  I will start recruiting from the local schools, looking for talent and especially for kids from low-income backgrounds. They should have the same chance as I had, to realize my talents.

  I smiled. It was a beautiful vision, one that had stuck in my mind since my first day on campus in New York. Now, I was much closer to making that vision a reality.

  And this Monday, I might be even closer.

  I was still daydreaming when I drifted up the stairs to my room. Adam wasn’t back from work yet. I had the whole afternoon to myself—my first afternoon alone without traveling. I smiled.

  “There’s food in the fridge,” read on a note left on the kitchen table in my brother’s rounded handwriting. I grinned. I wasn’t hungry yet, but I went over to the fridge to check out the options. I would make dinner tonight, I decided spontaneously. My brother always got back home late, and it would be a nice way to surprise him.

  The fridge was more stocked than I thought it would be. It had vegetables, cheese and milk. I racked my brains for the best meal, and decided to make a baked vegetable casserole that I always enjoyed. Both Adam and I limited eating meat—we disliked cruelty of any sort.

  We saw enough of cruelty when we were growing up, after all. No wonder it’s something we both wanted to avoid at all costs in our lives.

  I moved the hair out of my eyes and tried to put aside the cruel memories of our childhood home—our dad’s voice bawling using insults to bawl my mom out while my mom was barely coherent in her feeble responses. We had been exposed to way too much cruelty and abuse.

  No, I thought, grabbing a knife to cut up cauliflower into small bite-size bits, this was a new life. And it was one Adam and I were free to decide on.

  “It’s just a pity he’s so overprotective.”

  I sighed to myself, shutting my eyes for a moment as I remembered how he had glared at me when he noticed who I was staring at. I knew he didn’t like the thought of me being with Mark. I could even understand it.

  “Maybe he is different,” I told myself. Maybe, I thought with a small smile, my friend’s extravagant assessment of the situation had been accurate.

  Maybe he isn’t such a playboy. Or maybe he likes me as much as Becca thinks he does.

  I chuckled, feeling a bit confused. He had been staring at me, it was true. But when I kissed him, he hadn’t exactly responded passionately, had he?

  He just stood there and let me turn around.

  I had walked out, wondering if he would follow me. But he didn’t. I wondered why.

  “Maybe he was worried about Adam. Maybe he was worried what I thought he was. Maybe both,” I told myself. “After all, he’s his best friend.”

  I sighed. Of all the possibilities, I hoped that one was right.

  I cut up more vegetables. My mind kept wandering back to Mark even as I tried to focus on my cooking. I had to remind myself that I had more important things to think about.

  Like visiting my first potential-studio on Monday.

  6

  Mark

  I was thinking about Maddy. Sweet and naked and lying on my bed with her full breasts and creamy thighs exposed to my view. I imagined her skin soft as satin. I was oblivious to the smells and sounds of the shop and even my own brother who standing above me.

  “Damn it,” my brother swore.

  “What?” I looked up. Blinking my eyes and shaking my head, I found myself looking up into Carter’s face. It was late on Friday evening, and we were still finishing the custom paint job on the Harley that we were respraying. I was working on a Honda that had to be done by Saturday.

  “Mark… what do you think you’ve got there?”

  “What do you mean?” I frowned, following his gaze to my hand. I gasped. I had been ready to take a screw out of the mudguard, but what I had in my hand was an awl. I wouldn’t be able to take anything out with that. I blushed with embarrassment.

  “Sorry.” I put the awl down and reached for the screwdriver in the tool box. My brother snorted. He sounded annoyed and for once I didn’t blame him.

  “Bro, what the hell is wrong with you? That’s the third time today you were off in another world.”

  I swallowed hard. I was aware of that. He didn’t exactly need to point it out. “Sorry,” I said again.

  He started in on me again. “Hell, Mark. What were you dreaming about this time?”

  I heard a teasing note in his voice and shot him a look. When I looked to my right, Matt was grinning too. They both knew all too well what was on my mind, and I knew they found it amusing.

  It seems funny now, but it won’t be so funny if Adam finds out.

  I looked at Carter. “I wasn’t dreaming about anything,” I said carefully. He should know well enough that the situation was delicate.

  “No?” Matt asked, grinning. “I think I know who you were dreaming about…”

  “Yeah. And won’t it be funny if I end up breaking Adam’s nose over her?” I asked, shooting my brother a sour glance.

  “Guys, stop it,” Carter said from where he stood at the workbench. “It’s no joke for me. It’s about the business. I don’t want to have to shut down the place for a week because I have two mechanics with broken bones. Matt, stop teasing Mark. You know he hates it. Mark, you know you shouldn’t go there.”

  I nodded. I did know that—more than I liked to admit. I had seen the way Adam watched me. He might well have broken my nose.

  “A broken nose not an issue, for today at least,” Matthew said, after Carter had left the shop. “Adam’s out of town today, you know.”

  I just looked at him. Sometimes I didn’t know what I thought of Matt. I loved him more deeply than I loved anyone on Earth. He was my twin, and he knew me better than anyo
ne. But sometimes he really made me more pissed off than anyone else could.

  Matt grinned. I grinned back.

  “Stop it,” I said, unable not to laugh. “You know nothing’s going to happen.”

  Matthew just smiled.

  I was flustered about the whole situation. I returned to work, using the right screwdriver this time. I focused on my job with renewed vigor.

  “Lunch break…” Carter called from the other side of the workshop. I looked up. I’d been working steadily all morning and the bike was painted with all the extra touches. I was just waiting for the gloss to dry so I could put the chrome parts back on.

  “Hey, bro,” Matthew said, from where he lay on the floor underneath an old Hyundai. He was scraping something off the bottom of the bike. “It’s lunchtime.”

  “I know,” I sighed.

  I wiped my hands and tools off carefully with a rag, then set them on the workbench. I had barely noticed the time passing, but now I noticed I was pretty hungry. I looked at the clock. It was one p.m.

  “Hell. Time passes pretty fast nowadays,” I murmured. It was strange. I spent so much time in my head this morning that I barely noticed clock. Needless to say, my head was full of images of a certain woman.

  Maddy occupied my mind. Her sweet curves, those soft lips. The way she looked at me with those gentle eyes, as if I was the only man in the whole world who mattered.

  “Stop it,” I told myself as I marched up the hallway to the shower. I almost walked into Carter’s back.

  He turned around and gave me a concerned look. “Mark,” he said gently. “I’m worried about you.”

  “I’m fine,” I muttered.

  His dark blue eyes held my gaze steadily. “Listen, I know how you feel,” he said gently. “You knew how I felt when I started having feelings for Amelia. You saw how hard it was for me, and you supported me.”

  “I know,” I murmured. I had candidly pointed out to Carter the depth of his feelings. I was touched he remembered. I was especially moved that he took my feelings seriously.

  “I would do something if I could,” Carter said gently. “But firing Adam is not an option. He is too valuable of an employee. And it would not be right.”