Don't Kiss Your Best Friend's Brother (Billionaire Academy YA Romances Book 6)

by Erica Penrod

  The swoosh of the hospital doors and pungent smell of sterilized surfaces brought back the memory of when I’d broken my arm at recess and Grandma had to come and get me. I’d felt worse about Grandma leaving work early than I did about the fractured bone. She’d always shown up, and now it was my turn to be there for her.

  I approached the woman at the front desk. Bright orange pumpkins were printed on her black scrub top, and little Halloween cat earrings hung from her ears. I furrowed my brow, wondering if I’d missed a month and it was already Halloween. No—I glanced at the little calendar display on top of the counter. This was only the second day in October. I appreciated her enthusiasm. “Could you tell me what room Beth Slater is in?”

  Her fingernails tapped the keys, and she looked up at me. “She’s in room 305. Take the elevator just around the corner—” She pointed to my right. “—and go to the third floor. You’ll see some double doors and push the call button. Tell the nurse who you are, and she’ll let you in.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.” My heart rate picked up speed with each passing second. I knew my grandma was okay, but I didn’t know what the surgery or the recovery meant for her future or for mine. I stepped back, and Bonnie put her arm around me. My throat tightened as a swell of emotion rose from deep within. For my whole life, I hadn’t had a mother or a father around, but I had my grandma and I’d never really missed having a mom—until now. Something down deep—like on a cellular level—that I’d never known was there began to manifest. Girls were supposed to need their moms.

  “Would you like us to come up with you, or would you prefer that we wait right here in the waiting room?” The tone of Bonnie’s voice was like a warm blanket tossed around my shoulders, and I was so thankful she was there.

  “Um, maybe wait down here today, since she just got out of surgery, and then tomorrow you can come meet her.” I didn’t know how Grandma would be feeling, but I couldn’t imagine she felt up for much company. I also wanted to focus on her, and the jumble of emotions that accompanied Crue’s presence might make it harder for me to stay focused.

  My gaze wandered to Crue, who stood there with his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. His gaze darted from one thing to another like he was a freaked-out kid about to get a shot. Our eyes met, and suddenly the apprehension disappeared. His eyes softened like melted chocolate, and a hint of a warm smile tugged on the corners of his lips.

  I quickly turned to Bonnie, all the while chanting “friend, friend, friend” in my mind.

  “We’ll be right here.” Bonnie pulled me into her arms. “Take as much time as you need.”

  I choked back the lump in my throat as I looked over her shoulder. A group of nurses huddled together and failed miserably at nonchalance, while they giggled and pointed in our direction. What was going on? Oh. Right. Bonnie and Crue were celebrities. While they probably didn’t notice the attention, I did. Jealousy bit at me and left an irritating rash I couldn’t scratch. Luckily, the women looked too old to hit on Crue, like in their mid-twenties, although he was on the downhill slide to eighteen. Stop it. He’s not yours to worry about. Then again, if Crue thought of me as a sibling, didn’t I have the right to protect him from a pack of cougars?

  “Thanks.” I stepped back. Bonnie was here, and Crue was perfectly capable of handling himself. There was no need for me to concern myself with anything other than getting to Grandma. “I won’t be too long.”

  I hustled towards the elevators and wished I couldn’t hear the ooohs and ahhhs the women made over Crue. My blood simmered almost to a boil by the time I reached the elevator door and pushed the button. I scratched at my arms as I looked up at the illuminated numbers. Thankfully, my ride was about to stop on the lobby floor, and I could make my escape. Crue’s coming with me wasn’t getting any easier; in fact, I was morphing into a crazy jealous girl.

  Ding. The large metal doors parted, and I waited as a doctor in mint-green scrubs pushed thick-framed glasses back on his nose before he stepped outside. He stretched out his arm and held the door for me as I walked into the elevator.

  “Thanks.” I smiled, and he returned the gesture. His chivalry impressed me, but I had to admit I was a little disappointed that he wasn’t some hunky heartthrob like all the medical shows on TV portrayed their doctors. His receding hairline and paunch belly didn’t exactly scream “Hot Doc,” and I could’ve used a little distraction at that moment.

  I pushed the button and waited as the doors closed. No one else got on, and I was grateful for the solitude. Everything would be fine, I reassured myself. People had hip replacements all the time, and my grandma was only sixty-five—she’d recover in no time.

  As the elevator ascended, moisture collected in my palms, and I wiped my hands on my jeans while nerves crawled along my belly like a caterpillar up a tree branch as the elevator ascended. The bell chimed again as the number three lit up and the elevator stopped.

  The doors opened to a small crowd, which I quickly discerned had to be all related. Several children, all towheaded and blue-eyed, gaped at me. A tired-looking woman, with hair the color of wheat and dark circles plowed beneath her own cornflower-blue eyes, stood in the middle of them. “Let her pass,” she directed the kids. Her thin lips parted into a sweet smile, and I pressed a hand over my heart as warmth radiated from within.

  The corners of my mouth turned up into a smile as my mind wondered what life would be like growing up with brothers and sisters and a mother who, although worn out, still wanted you more than anything in the world. I took a step forward, remembering that while I didn’t have a mom like that, I had my grandma and she was waiting for me. The children gaped up at me as I passed by. They smelled like cherry ChapStick and hand sanitizer, which probably explained the goopy substance in the youngest boy’s hair. I’d never been around little kids, and while I was fascinated by their dimply hands and missing-teeth grins, part of me was worried they might pounce on me, sensing my inexperience. Hanging out with the Zeplin family had filled in some of those voids I’d missed growing up as a single child.

  I spied the call box mounted to the wall outside of two doors and moved in that direction. The sign above the doors said “Surgical Intensive Care Unit,” and the words pummeled my chest like someone was hurling rocks at me. Inhaling through my nose, I tried to calm myself by taking a cleansing breath. Grandma was fine, I reminded myself for the hundredth time as I pushed the button.

  “Can I help you?” a woman’s voice answered right away.

  I looked around for a camera, wondering if I was supposed to talk to the box. I leaned in towards the speaker. “I’m here to see Beth Slater. My name is Emery Slater—I’m her granddaughter.” Retreating, I stepped back and folded my arms across my chest. I wasn’t sure where to look or if the nurse could see me. Seconds passed, and I looked around anxiously. Was there something else I was supposed to do?

  “Sorry about that. It took me a second to find you, but you are on her visitors list.”

  Beep. The doors opened in a slow, sloth-like movement. I squeezed through as soon as the space was wide enough. I rushed to the desk as urgency flooded my body. Knowing I was this close to Grandma seemed to lift a lid on the emotions I’d tried to keep bottled up.

  Tears burned, and the nurse was good enough to just point me in the right direction. “Down this hall, and she’s in the third door on your right.”

  I nodded as I pivoted towards the brightly lit hallway. Dabbing at my cheeks, I sniffed and cleared my throat. There was no way I’d let Grandma see me crying; she needed me to be the strong one. A few strides later, room 305 was right in front of me. I drew back my shoulders, lifted my glasses, and wiped away the moisture one more time before I knocked softly and waited. Pressing my ear towards cold metal, I heard my grandma’s soft voice beckoning me to come in.

  Chapter Five

  “Hey, Grandma.” I crept in like any noise might trigger an alarm or cause her body to reject the foreign material now making up her hip. “
How are you?”

  I began my own assessment of her. Her small-framed body looked like a child’s tucked beneath the white gauzy blanket, and the pallor of her skin was only one or two shades darker than her pillowcase. Oxygen tubing ran from her nostrils, and monitors hummed and beeped.

  I got to her bedside, leaned in, and kissed her on the cheek. Her familiar scent of pink soap and cheap floral perfume nearly dropped me to my knees. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her since the last time I’d seen her about eight weeks ago.

  “I’m doing good.” Her voice sounded like her throat was irritated. “You didn’t need to come all this way. I hoped the school would’ve made that clear when I had them get a message to you.”

  “Of course I came.” My emotions swelled, which I fought to control. She’d put my name of the visitors list, so I knew she wasn’t totally opposed to my being here. I brushed the dark hair back from her forehead. “Are you okay? What did the doctor say?”

  “Everything went just fine.” Her warm mocha eyes looked up at me, and I saw a haze fogging over their usual brightness. She blinked slowly, as if exhaustion hung like heavy metal rods from her eyelids. I couldn’t stay long. “How did you get here?”

  “My friends brought me.” I wasn’t sure how much to get into tonight. “You look tired, Grandma. I’m sure you need to get some rest.”

  She looked up at me, but I wasn’t sure she saw me clearly.

  “I just had to see you for myself, to know you’re alright, but I’ll come back tomorrow when you’re feeling a little better, and we’ll talk then.”

  Grandma gave a gentle nod before her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep. I kissed her head one more time and squeezed her hand. She was okay. But this was only day one, and I knew she had a long way to go before she’d fully recover. I couldn’t think about that now. Stress and fatigue had begun to claim me, and I still had to get back to Grandma’s house.

  I walked out of the room and closed the door behind me. The thought of my own bed sounded great, but wait … what about Bonnie and Crue? Should I invite them to stay, or would they just get a hotel room? And I hadn’t considered what driving up to the double-wide trailer with billionaires in tow might feel like. They knew I didn’t come from money, but knowing that and seeing it firsthand were two different things. Nervousness took root in my gut once more, and I tried to shake off the feeling. I wasn’t embarrassed by where I’d grown up, but I didn’t want Bonnie and Crue to feel sorry for me. Our little trailer overflowed with love, enough to fill any mansion any of those kids back at RLA lived in, but sometimes love wasn’t enough to keep me from feeling like an outsider.

  “See you later,” the nurse called out from behind the desk. I turned my head towards the noise and nodded. I thought I smiled but couldn’t be sure. I was too busy thinking about the two people waiting for me downstairs, what they might think about where I’d grown up, and what would happen next.

  The strangest thing occurred as we pulled up to Grandma’s trailer. Happy memories surged through my mind, and my chest about burst with pride when the peach-and-white-painted house came into view. The sun had set, leaving just enough daylight for me to search the yard and the porch for the familiar fall decorations I knew I’d find there. My grandma loved decorating for the holidays and seasons. She could work magic with twenty dollars and a trip to the dollar store. Her creativity knew no bounds.

  “This is it.” I grinned as I opened the door and hopped out of the car. Crue was in the back seat next to me, and Bonnie sat up front with the Uber driver.

  Pumpkins sat on the steps with floral picks and beautiful ribbons twirling from the stems. Metal buckets piled to overflowing with gourds in yellow, green, red, and orange; the buckets were placed amongst the pumpkins and garlands of fall leaves ran along the handrails. I shivered, although I didn’t feel cold, but I zipped up my jacket anyway.

  Crue came up beside me. “Cool pumpkins.”

  “This is only the half of it. Grandma usually gets out her Halloween critters by the first weekend in October, and then you should see this place.” I imagined the black cat with yellow glowing eyes perching on a stair and the witch sitting atop her broomstick suspended from the porch roof that cackled every time someone walked by. “My grandma’s place is a neighborhood favorite for the trick-or-treaters. She’s got the best decorations and—of course—the best homemade caramel apples you’ve ever tasted.” I beamed up at Crue.

  “This looks awesome.” He glanced up at the twinkling orange lights in the windows. “I love fall and Halloween.”

  “Me too.” Hmmm … Something I didn’t know about Crue.

  “Sorry.” Bonnie came up beside us. “The driver wanted a selfie.” She surveyed the area, and her mouth widened into a big grin. “I love this.” Bonnie looked down at me. “This reminds me of my grandma’s place when I was growing up.”

  I’d never thought of Bonnie as anything other than a supermodel married to a rock star and a mother to two of my favorite people. “Where did you grow up?”

  “In a little town in Idaho.” Her hazel eyes seemed to have drifted to another place and time. “It was a lot like this.”

  “She was discovered in the mall.” Crue grinned, his dimples plunging into his cheeks, and I didn’t miss the pride in his voice. He looked back over his shoulder. “I’d better go help with the bags.” Crue walked over to the trunk, and I wished I didn’t notice his absence so keenly.

  “Are you sure you’re okay staying here?” The trailer only had two bedrooms, but there was also a couch bed. An image of the Zeplins’ mansion home back on the island flashed in my mind, and I worried about whether Bonnie and Crue would be comfortable in our tiny home. Anyone could rough it for a night or two, plus Bonnie insisted she and Crue would be fine if they were staying here was okay with me. I liked the idea of not being alone, although I could’ve managed if I had to.

  “Yes.” She touched my arm. “Of course.” Bonnie put her hands in her pockets. The temperature seemed to drop with each passing second. “This place reminds me of home. I didn’t grow up with a lot of money, and now that I have it, I know what they mean when they say money doesn’t buy happiness.”

  People with money got to say those kinds of things, although for the most part, I agreed. My childhood with Grandma had been a happy one, but I wished she didn’t have to work so hard. At her age, she should be retired and enjoying her hobbies, not working to buy airline tickets or send a little spending cash to her granddaughter. “It doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure makes life a lot easier.”

  Bonnie smiled. “Yes, it does, and the best part is when you have the means to help a friend out.”

  “Like fly me back here to see my grandma.” My voice cracked on emotion.

  “Exactly.” Bonnie smiled with understanding. “Now let’s get into the house before it gets any colder out here.”

  “Agreed.” I hustled up the steps and took the key from the pocket in my purse. Seconds later, I opened the door and waited for Bonnie to come inside.

  “I’m coming.” Crue bounded up the steps, carrying three bags like they were full of feathers. “Thanks.” He passed by me, and I sore I felt something zap as a burst of energy, like a current, sparked between us.

  Crue looked back over his shoulder. Tiny notches appeared between his brows as his stare met mine. He gave a slight shake to his head, like he’d just dismissed a thought, and stepped into the room.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, moved forward, and closed the door behind me. Whatever reaction Crue triggered within my body whenever he was in proximity, it wasn’t letting up. The connection between us wasn’t something I could turn on and off just because Crue had a girlfriend and didn’t see me like that. The problem reminded me of my obsession with chocolate éclairs, because no matter how I tried or listed all the reasons why I shouldn’t want to have one—or three—as a midnight snack, I craved them all the time.

  Craving Crue was definitely an issue. No amou
nt of self-talk was making it go away.

  Chapter Six

  “Blankets are not a problem around here.” I shut the closet door with my foot as I steadied the mound of homemade quilts and afghans in my arms. “Grandma can’t watch TV without keeping her hands busy.”

  Bonnie took two from the top of the pile. “These are beautiful.” She ran her hand over the carefully hand-stitched star pattern. “I’ll put these on the couch for Crue.”

  If I had any lingering reservations about Crue and Bonnie staying with me, they were completely gone now. They seemed to appreciate the small, but welcoming home. A rectangular living room was connected to the small dining area with the round oak table and four chairs Grandma had refinished herself, and the kitchen was to the left from there. White appliances and Formica countertops were scrubbed clean, and the linoleum floor was spotless. A blue-and-white-tiled backsplash gave the space a pop of color, along with the plate rack on the east wall where Grandma displayed her favorite dishes.

  Growing up, every Saturday morning I spent an hour dusting and polishing the furniture while Grandma worked her magic in the other rooms. The double-wide trailer was my home and as wonderful as I remembered. Time and distance had given me a different perspective on a lot of things, but I was glad to know some things stayed the same.

  Crue moved through the house as if he were a detective, inspecting every framed photograph. Some I wished I’d had the chance to hide before he saw them. “You look cute in pigtails.” He picked up the photograph from the breakfront in the living room. The corners of his mouth turned up, and his dimples dug into his cheeks. “You should wear them more often.”