Pass me By (BFF Series Book 1)

by Kyra Fox

  Chapter Two

  Brian

  “Lauren!” Trista’s scold carries to the hallway. “Stop eating all of my snacks! It’s not my fault you limit yourself to rabbit food.”

  “I have to keep my figure,” the other woman, Lauren, answers with her mouth full. “The calories from your food don’t count.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense.” I can imagine Trista scrunching her nose in that adorable way that makes her look like an angry kitten; she’s been doing that ever since I can remember, it’s how she got her nickname.

  I’m standing behind them, my presence yet unknown, taking in the sight of Trista packing her desk for the weekend. Her honey-colored hair is in its usual braided constraints. I’m embarrassed to admit that I know it’s a fishtail braid. Living with Trista for three years, I’m well educated on all different ways one can braid their hair, and I can probably plait most of them as well.

  She’s wearing short jeans and a black tunic shirt over a black sports bra, her back almost entirely exposed showing off her tattoo—a Leica camera with the film pulled out curling into a heart at the end.

  Even though I can only see her from behind at this point, my heart still skips a few beats. She’s so beautiful, the honey glow of her skin intensified by the LA sun, and after so long the sight of her fuels my yearning to the point I’m sure I’m going to burn from the inside out if I don’t touch her.

  “If you’re hungry, I can take you out for a late lunch.” I take a step into the room and open my arms to catch a squealing Trista who launches herself at me, jumping up and wrapping her legs around my waist, hugging me so tightly I can barely breathe. Although it doesn’t stop the familiar hint of lavender body scrub from sneaking into my nostrils, flaring up my sinuses, and clouding my senses.

  “God, I missed you so much, B.” She touches her forehead to mine, and I have to remind myself that I can’t kiss her, no matter how much I want to feel her full cherry lips on mine, no matter how much her white-walker-blues seem to be beckoning me.

  “I missed you too, Kitten.” I settle for cupping her jaw and running my thumb over the outline of her lower lip, and I swear her legs tighten around me and her breath hitches.

  "You have a beard." Her hand runs over the thick facial hair on my jawline.

  After she left, I had a bit of a downward spiral and neglected to shave until I met Mac, my cousin’s now fiancé. We became close friends, and he helped me find my focus again. But when I shortened the overgrown facial hair for a shave, I realized I liked the look, so I opted for a short, trimmed classic beard.

  "You like?" I implore, and Trista nods a bit breathlessly, and I wonder if kissing her really is that bad of an idea.

  “You two need a room?” Lauren interrupts our moment with a snicker.

  “Or you could just leave, and we’ll test out how sturdy these desks really are.” Trista jumps off me and knocks on one of the desks near us. The corner jams into her thigh, and I chuckle at her typical clumsiness as she inhales sharply and exhales with a groan.

  “Hi, I’m Brian.” I extend my hand, and Lauren takes it with a grin.

  “Lauren. A pleasure to finally meet you as I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “Only good things I hope.”

  “Well, Trista did say you’re super-hot, and I’m inclined to agree.” Lauren’s grin widens as heat blooms across my face.

  “Lauren!” Trista’s laughing, completely unabashed. “Come on, let’s go eat and catch up.”

  “See you later, Brian.” Lauren waves at us with a wink. “Bye, Kitten.”

  Trista rolls her eyes and pulls me out of the office and into the street, throwing herself into my arms again once we’re out on the sidewalk.

  “I can’t believe you’re really here.” She’s clinging to me almost desperately. It’s so untypical of her that I start to worry something happened when she was alone in LA, and I wasn’t there to keep her safe.

  “Is everything okay, Tris?”

  She nods but doesn’t ease her grip on me.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” she says again. “It’s been so hard, living without you.”

  I respond by pulling her closer.

  “I’m here now.” I stroke her long braid, trying to hide how her words are affecting me, how much being so far away from her has shaken me, too.

  Maybe Zoe was right, maybe Trista has realized a few things in my absence. Maybe she’s finally ready to love me back the way I want her to.

  Trista

  My heart has been pounding in my ears for the last thirty minutes, from the moment his deep baritone voice filled the office, the excitement of having Brian within touching distance again is unwavering. I can’t seem to stop my body from craving contact with his, feed off the familiar warmth rolling off him, and Brian doesn’t seem to mind one bit. His arm is over my shoulder, squeezing me tightly against his chest as I inhale his familiar scent, letting the comfort of his proximity wash over me.

  His body feels larger than I remember. He’s not much taller than me, just under five-feet-nine to my just over five-feet-five, so it’s probably because Mac has been dragging him to the gym.

  “What are we eating?” He looks around, trying to scope out the options.

  I’m contemplating the answer when my phone rings; it’s around 2 PM, which means its happy hour time on the East Coast, and the girls are phoning in for our traditional BFF happy hour chat.

  “Hey, I have a surprise guest today!” I turn the phone screen to Brian, who grins widely and waves at his sister and cousin.

  “Hey, B.” Zoe smiles at Brian with a wink, and I wonder what that’s all about but shrug it off. It’s probably just a genius-cousins thing.

  “All my favorite girls in one place.” Brian stands behind me and pulls me against his chest, so we can both be in the frame. He pushes his sunglasses up into his light-chocolate brown hair revealing his caramel-brown eyes as he smiles warmly at the screen.

  “Still all touchy-feely, I see,” Phoebe states dryly and sips her wine, a pile of papers stacked neatly beside her.

  “Are you working this weekend?” I eye the papers, and Phoebe nods.

  “That big client sniffing around the office? He decided to give us a trial run with an inheritance he received from his estranged aunt.” Phoebe is a corporate lawyer, though, with her flair for drama, I would have pegged her as a defense attorney or prosecutor. “I guess I pushed hard enough to land the lead on the case. If I do this right and get the client to sign his business to our firm, I’m on the fast track to partnership.”

  “That’s great, Phoebs,” Zoe says, sounding about as excited as Phoebe looks. “I’m sure you’ll nail it.”

  “Did you guys settle the groomsmen tie color debacle, Zo?” Brian asks as his thumb runs idly over my stomach, sending pleasant shivers through me, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else. “Or is Mac still being a groomzilla?”

  “I am not a groomzilla!” Zoe’s fiancé yells from somewhere in the background, and we all laugh because he kind of is.

  “I have to get back to work.” Phoebe sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose with her eyes squeezed shut before shaking herself out and sighing again. “It’s good to see the two of you together, it felt like the natural order of things was disrupted for a while there.”

  Tell me about it.

  “Find some time to play in between all the work, babe.” I shoot Phoebe a sassy grin, and she just grimaces, her image abruptly disappears from the screen, and Zoe and I exchange a worried glance, probably thinking the same thing—something with Phoebe feels off.

  “I’m going to let you guys go ahead with your day.” Zoe places her elbow on the desk and leans her chin on her palm, looking at us in a way I can’t quite decipher. “Love you guys.”

  “We love you, too.” Brian doesn’t make a move to distance himself from me when the call ends, his chin is on my shoulder, his breath tickling my ear. My heart starts racing again, and then my
stomach growls so loudly a passerby throws me a glare.

  “Hungry?” Brian chuckles and plants a kiss on my cheek before taking my hand and pulling me toward a sushi restaurant.

  “So hungry,” I groan and skip into stride with him, almost tripping over a sunken pavement stone.

  Brian bursts out laughing. “You’re such a klutz.” He pulls me back under his arm, and I smile, inhaling his sweet caramel scent with hints of spicey cinnamon.

  “Hope you brought some bandages.”

  “Please. I’ve known you for almost twenty-six years.” He smirks and pulls a small pouch from his satchel. “I carry a first-aid kit whenever I’m with you.”

  “Bullshit!” I grab the pouch and open it, finding a full kit for treating minor injuries inside. “B! Really?”

  “Can you blame me?” He shrugs with a mischevious glint in his eyes, and as much as I want to argue, I’m standing with the same guy who spent countless hours with me in emergency rooms every time I’d sprained or broke something.

  “No.” I resume my position under his arm. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

  “You don’t need to thank me.” He kisses the top of my head and opens the door to the restaurant. “I’ll always take care of you, Kitten.”

  I can’t help but throw my arms around him and press my forehead to his, a soft smile playing on his lips as his palm strokes my back and braid, and I find myself all too alert to his touch.

  All this time we’ve spent so far away must have acted like a sensory barrier, and now I’m hyper-aware of everything about Brian—his tender touch as he caresses my skin through the fabric of my shirt, the longing gaze in his caramel eyes calling to me with a plea I can’t quite make out but so desperately want to answer, and the sweet and masculine scent of him filling my nostrils making me feel light-headed. But most of all, the sense of calm and safety he brought with him, making it the first time in ten months I’ve felt like I’m not aimlessly drifting through life.

  Chapter Three

  Brian

  “Tell me everything!” Trista instructs, sitting across from me, picking plates off the conveyor while shoving sushi into her mouth. “How is everyone back on the East Coast?”

  “Amazing, Tris. Davey’s girls are so big already, and your mom is crazy about them; she’s so unexpectedly grandmotherly it’s insane.” I laugh but stop when I see a flash of pain cross Trista’s face, quickly changing the subject. “Zoe is the most chill bride ever. I think that freaks Mac out more than the actual wedding.”

  “Yeah, she’s been telling us stories every happy hour, and we’ve been dying.” Trista smiles, but there’s still something sad in her gaze. “We’re doing the first dance, right?”

  “Of course we are,” I chuckle. “I’m walking you down the aisle, and at the very least, I deserve a dance after saving you the embarrassment of tripping over mid-ceremony.”

  “You’re an ass,” Trista grumbles with a smile. “How are you, B? I feel like we haven’t talked for ages.”

  I bite back a cringe, knowing full well what she means is that I’ve been actively avoiding her, trying to find my bearings after she left.

  “I’m good. It’s been crazy between work, Mac’s bachelor party…”

  “Three-page spreads in a nationwide top-tier science magazine?” She grins at me and takes a bite from her cone, her plump cherry-hued lips closing around it, and I have to force myself to avert my eyes from the seductive motion.

  “Yeah, that.” I was against that article, not because it was a bad idea but because I’m a very private person. The lab I work for eventually convinced me it was good for promoting the cause, though. Alzheimer's research needed more funding, and I was the poster-boy-genius perfect for the job.

  “How was your flight?” Trista is still grinning at me, knowing I’m embarrassed by the article if only because of the heat that spread through my cheeks when she mentioned it.

  “Interesting.” I grab a plate of tuna roll before she can get her hands on it. “One of the flight attendants was not so subtly propositioning me.”

  “And…?” Something akin to jealousy flashes through Trista’s eyes. If I didn’t know her so well, I would be sure I’m imagining it, but she so seldom gets jealous of anyone or anything that it’s hard to miss.

  “I subtly turned her down, it felt wrong.” I pick a piece of sushi with my chopsticks and slowly chew, contemplating how I should respond to her surprising reaction. “Although I’ve always wanted to join the mile-high club.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be the last time you get offered a quickie in the plane lavatories.” She throws me a sassy grin and raises her sake in my direction before taking a sip. I can tell she’s relieved by the way her posture relaxes, but I’m starting to feel on edge, so I down all my sake in one gulp.

  Still, I can’t help but tease her a bit, explore her reaction to more forward flirtation. “How can you be so sure? Are you planning on surprising me and joining me on my flight home?” I wink at her, and she laughs, grabbing two more plates from the conveyor, handing me the one with yellowtail sashimi, my favorite, then covering my palm with hers.

  “Because you’re you, B, and you’re irresistible.” Her uneven fingernails are lightly grazing the fleshy part of my palm, and her gaze glazes over as it fixates on the movement of her fingers tickling my skin.

  “Tris…” She just hums in response, the resonation titillating my body, and I shudder. Leaning across the table, I cup her chin with my free hand, lifting her gaze to mine.

  She has that look again, her blue irises gleaming, beckoning me, and I simply can’t resist any longer. I lean forward, the feel of her pulse racing under my fingers as the entire world around us slows to a halt.

  Suddenly her phone starts pinging like crazy, causing us both to jump with a start as the blur of restaurant bustle resumes. Trista picks up her phone, and I can see her hand is shaking as she slides a finger over her screen, her brow furrowing before she lets out an exasperated groan.

  “Work?” I resume eating, acting as if nothing had happened between us just now, though my food is like cement going down my esophagus.

  “Lauren.” Trista picks up on my cue and throws a nigiri ball into her mouth. “She’s drunk.”

  “That was fast.”

  “Her boyfriend was supposed to come home early from work, stood her up last minute, so she opened a bottle of wine alone.” Trista lets out a long sigh, twisting the loose end of her braid around her finger.

  “You don’t like him? The boyfriend?”

  “He’s a douche, and he isn’t good enough for her.” She signals for the check, and a waiter comes to count our plates, giving her a more than courteous grin and a wink. Used to seeing her get this kind of attention everywhere we go, I just roll my eyes. “We should go get ready for the club.”

  “It’s been a while since we danced.” I pull out my credit card and scribble a tip onto the bill. “Think we still got it?”

  “Oh, I know we still got it, B.” She laughs and spins into me as we stand, tripping, and almost pulling the tablecloth with her.

  “Save your moves for the club, Ginger.” I tighten my hold on her with a chuckle, leading her outside.

  “I never fall when you’re in the lead.” She huffs in irritation and circles my waist. “Why is that?”

  “Because I don’t let you.” I flag down a cab and open the door for her. “See you in a few hours, Kitten.”

  “Bye, B.” She kisses my cheek and slides into the taxi, and I’m left there staring after it as she drives off, hailing myself a cab once she’s out of sight.

  I’ve just entered my hotel room, still immersed in thoughts of that almost kiss, when my phone rings, and I grin when I see the name flashing across the screen.

  “If it isn’t Groomzilla,” I smirk into the receiver.

  “Shut up,” Mac grumbles back. “You’re supposed to be my brofriend, stop being such an asshole.”

  “Fine, I’m s
orry.” I sit in the chair situated in front of my hotel room desk.

  “How’s LA?”

  “Hot.” I sigh as he chops something in the background.

  “Are you referring to the weather or to a certain blonde?” His grin practically shows through the receiver.

  “Both,” I admit. “I almost kissed her at lunch today.”

  “Wow.” Mac lets out a low whistle. “Why did you try to kiss her?”

  “We sort of had a moment.” I sigh again and let my head fall on the desk. “I’m not sure what my move here is, Mac. I don’t want to take a stupid risk and ruin our friendship.”

  “But you also don’t want to miss an opportunity to make it more.” He completes the sentence for me, and I grunt in response. “Why almost?”

  “Her friend started blasting her with messages, ruined the moment.”

  “Well, if it’s more than a fluke, there will be another.” Sizzling sounds crackle in the background. “Just do me a favor, B?”

  “Yeah?” I stand up and stretch, looking out the window.

  “Don’t do anything you can’t take back before you tell her how you feel; it’s not fair for either of you.”

  “Sure.” I’m not entirely convinced he’s right, but his logic is sounder than mine when it comes to my relationship with Trista, so I should probably heed his advice.

  “Gotta go, my buns are burning!” And he hangs up, leaving me staring at the phone in bewilderment. That goes into the category of weirdest sober hang up lines I have ever heard.

  Shaking off the confusion, I mull over the conversation. I know he’s right; I should tell Trista how I feel, get my answer, and move on with my life, one direction or the other. But the way she looked at me today…

  Like a piece of candy? the voice in my head snorts, and I try to push it down without success. Like all those hours in the gym with Mac make you suddenly fuckable? You’ve got the body, now she suddenly wants you. She just cares how you look, she’ll never really love you…