Wrong Bed, Right Brother (Accidental Love)

by Rebecca Brooks

  Chapter Twenty

  For the first time in as long as he could remember, Noah didn’t wake up to an alarm. He let the sun drifting through the curtains nudge him awake as Amanda shifted and sighed in his arms. It was Saturday, and he’d rearranged his schedule so he didn’t have his first client until later in the day. For the next few hours, there was nowhere he needed to be and nothing he needed to do except hold her as she slept, naked and warm in his arms.

  He’d hoped, yesterday, that it would turn out like this. But hoping wasn’t the same thing as living it. The dinner, her laughter, the way the conversation had flowed. Why hadn’t he realized how easy she was to talk to? It had felt so comfortable, he hadn’t even had to think before the words had come out.

  Maybe that was why he’d said so many things he hadn’t expected. Things he’d barely admitted to himself.

  Like how responsible he felt for uprooting not only his life but his brother’s. How divided he was over the new job he wanted…and the old one he didn’t want to leave behind.

  Amanda was telling him to make his own decisions. But he had decided. He’d picked L.A., family, stability, a new trajectory.

  Or he thought he’d decided—until she came along and uprooted everything he thought he knew. The future he’d planned.

  He slid his arm out from under her, slipping out of bed. His clothes were scattered on the floor, and he put them on slowly. He didn’t want to give one of her roommates a heart attack at this hour, catching sight of a shirtless Luke lookalike slipping out of Amanda’s room and heading for the bathroom.

  He looked over at her, stretched out and still sleeping, as he pulled on his jeans. She looked so peaceful, her hair messy, her lips parted as though for a kiss. Her breasts were full as she lay on her side, the sheet only covering her partway. He could look at her for hours, drinking in every curve. The thought came to him as he had one arm in his shirt: he could look at her forever.

  Then his chest tightened, his breath trapped deep inside him.

  Forever was a damn long time. He’d thought he’d had it with Kristina and look where that had gone. He couldn’t go thinking like that again—not so soon after having his whole world turned upside-down.

  But Amanda wasn’t Kristina, just as he wasn’t Luke. They weren’t longing for other people, settling for second-best. At one point, he’d feared that. After last night, though…everything had been turned upside-down yet again.

  Only it’d be hard to get much more than a glimpse of her online if she lived here and he lived in fucking L.A. Long distance was a thing, but neither of them had the salaries to support regular cross-country plane trips. And did they really have the relationship foundation that would keep them afloat through something like that, with no end date and no plan to be reunited again? Amanda could find work in L.A., but he couldn’t ask that of her. Her mom was here. Her friends. Her life. Way more of a life than he had, when his whole world was pretty much running and Luke.

  Speaking of Luke—he pulled the shirt on the rest of the way and reached for his phone lighting up the screen. Six texts, all from his brother. Shit.

  LUKE: Hey, you still want to do that drink tonight?

  Hey, where you at?

  Hey, assuming you weren’t hit by a train tonight but I’ll catch you in the a.m.

  And so on.

  He’d told Luke he’d be late. He’d said not to wait.

  But Noah never stayed out all night. He hadn’t gone on any dates since Kristina. Let alone one that turned into breakfast the next morning. He’d completely forgotten about his semi-promise to his brother to meet up. His head had been so full of Amanda, he hadn’t thought about his brother at all.

  He slid his phone back into his pocket. His first thought was that he should get out of here. Leave now to make it into Manhattan and be home before Luke was up. Then Luke wouldn’t have to know Noah had spent the night in someone else’s bed.

  But there was no way he was going to do Amanda like that, sneaking out before she was awake. And since when was Luke someone he needed to report back to?

  This wasn’t his mom. He wasn’t fifteen. There was no curfew here. It wasn’t like Luke never spent the night anywhere.

  It was just that Noah didn’t. Not since Kristina, and with her, it had always been a regular thing. None of this “wait and see” uncertainty, packing a toothbrush he hadn’t been sure he was going to use. No wonder Luke had expected to hear back from him.

  But why couldn’t he do what he wanted, without justifying his every move?

  Which meant tiptoeing to the bathroom then coming back to slip off his clothes again and slide into bed with Amanda. She blinked sleepily awake in his arms, the sweetest, most surprised-looking smile on her face.

  Like she couldn’t believe he was there. Like she didn’t believe she could be happy.

  Like all of this was the most wonderful dream.

  …

  It was the perfect lazy Saturday morning in bed. Amanda had never been kissed awake like that, brought to life until her eyes were open—and then until they were closed again and her fingers were clutching his hair, hips bucking into him, trying not to cry out and wake all her roommates and the whole goddamn building as Noah made her come on his tongue and again when he was inside her. By the time they finally rolled out of bed, spent and far beyond satisfied, she was famished.

  “Pancakes,” she said. “I’m taking you out for pancakes.”

  “You say that like it’s some kind of threat,” he teased.

  “I just thought you might have to be somewhere. And I was warning you that you’ve been my bedroom hostage, and now you’re going to be my pancake hostage.”

  “How you make me suffer,” he said with a groan as he pulled her into a hug again, interrupting the whole process of her trying to get clothes on so she could do something besides have sex all day.

  On the other hand, why would she want to get out of bed when she could stay in it and have sex all day with Noah?

  Her stomach grumbled. Right. At some point, she needed to refuel.

  She reached for her wallet and phone. That’s when she saw she had a text.

  “Huh,” she said out loud.

  “What?” Noah asked immediately.

  She shook her head. “Just wondering why Luke was texting me at 12:04 last night asking about a glitch in the Brain Gobblers code that Jorge already said he’d fix.”

  Noah pulled out his phone. “12:04?” he repeated. “That’s a whole two minutes after he texted me asking if I wanted to get a beer.”

  Amanda wasn’t sure what expression was on her face, but it couldn’t have been good. “Never in my entire life has Luke texted with a work question anytime between the hours of five p.m. on Friday and ten a.m. Monday morning.” She looked at Noah warily. “Think he was checking up on me? After he didn’t hear back from you?”

  “Even if he was,” Noah said calmly, “it’s okay that we were, well, too busy to answer.” He winked, and she couldn’t help grinning back, warm in the memories of last night.

  “He doesn’t need to know where either of us is at all times,” he went on. “You guys never dated. No one’s cheating.”

  Amanda knew he was technically right. But “technically” didn’t always cut it when it came to things like jealousy. And heartache. And love.

  “I know that,” she said and swallowed. “But how come it still feels like we’re doing something wrong?”

  He drew her into a hug, and she felt the full strength of him, not just the hard muscle from his training but the warmth inside him, too. One touch made her so secure.

  It was a scary feeling. She already sensed how addictive it could be, how much she could come to depend on it.

  “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

  He sounded so certain, she was struck by a sudden, sharp pang of envy. He was
so committed, so sure. Why couldn’t she feel like that? Why was everything such a whirlwind with her, always moving too fast?

  “Then we should tell him,” she said. But although she tried to match Noah’s same decisiveness, she didn’t quite feel it the way he did.

  It seemed so daunting, so unfamiliar. To be involved in something that rose to tell-someone status. To have the person she needed to tell be Luke. To have it be about his brother. Four short months after he’d gotten out of a capital-R Relationship he’d thought would last forever.

  What, exactly, would they say? What were they now? What was between them to tell?

  They’d have to know that, first. They’d have to talk about it, decide it, act on it. They’d have to make it real.

  “You’re right,” Noah said, still holding her. “I know you’re right.”

  For a moment, pressed against his chest, she couldn’t breathe, waiting to hear what he’d say next. That he’d tell Luke she was his girlfriend? That they’d sit him down together? That he’d mention casually he’d spent the night at Amanda’s and let Luke connect the dots on his own?

  Or would he tell Luke they’d hooked up, just an FYI, but that was that? They’d talked about L.A. last night. Amanda had put it on the line—or as much as she could bear to. But Noah hadn’t said he wouldn’t move or anything like that. They still hadn’t addressed the fact that maybe there was nothing to tell because yes, he was here now, yes, there were dates and sex and sleeping and pancakes, and hopefully more, lots more of those things.

  But there was also L.A. in four weeks. There was Noah moving away. There was everyone who always left, because that’s what was love was. Opening your veins to let them bleed.

  “We’ll tell him,” he repeated emphatically, clutching her tighter. “But for now, I just want to keep something to myself a little while longer.”

  She nodded, understanding, and they stood there holding each other in her bedroom. Her cheek against his chest. His fingers soft in her hair. She was his. She knew that. Soon enough, the rest of the world would know it, too.

  Until then, there was something special to hold between the two of them. Their own world. Their private flame that burned.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It was easier than he’d imagined to fall into a routine with Amanda. Nights at her place, swinging by his apartment at some point during the day to change clothes and re-pack his bag. Before he knew it, he’d be off again—to meet his trainees, do his workouts, and then, like clockwork, he and Amanda would be texting each other again, making plans to meet up.

  He told himself he should spend more time at home. He told himself things were moving too fast.

  But he only had three weeks left, and then two, and then even less. How could he keep himself apart from Amanda when they had so little time?

  Luke asked what was going on and who he was seeing, but Noah never had the words. Everything hung in such a precarious balance. Before he knew it, it’d be back to him and Luke and he’d have time for his brother again. Until then, there was no need to rock the boat and make himself miserable.

  The week before the New York City Half Marathon, Noah snuck in a few rest days for himself so he wouldn’t be too burned out for the race. He was only pacing the course for his clients, not running it full speed, but it was still a lot of miles to clock.

  And there was another reason: more time to linger with Amanda instead of leaving her at dawn.

  That Monday, they stayed in bed so long that she finally groaned that she did have to eventually show her face in the office. “But you can lounge here all day while I go to work, you lucky bastard.”

  He laughed. “I have to do my laundry, finally buy toilet paper because you know Luke never does, and catch up on about eight million emails.” Six million of which had to do with the whole uprooting-his-life-to-California business that was happening in T-minus twelve days.

  “I shouldn’t go to work today,” Amanda declared. “I just want to lie in bed with you and make you do the same.”

  “All morning?” he asked.

  “All. Freaking. Day.”

  He made a low noise, imagining tasting her skin for hours, nowhere to be, no demands or distractions. “Sounds delicious,” he said.

  “I’m serious. I don’t need food. I don’t need water.”

  “Easier than a houseplant.”

  “I’m like a succulent—I thrive under neglect.”

  “That’s a lie. Although you are succulent.” He nibbled her ear while she called him out for being ridiculously corny.

  “Fine,” she amended. “I guess I still need a little sunlight.”

  He rolled on top of her. “And you need this,” he murmured, pressing his hardening cock into her thigh.

  She stroked him in her palm, and it took every ounce of willpower for him to pull away before he gave into his desire and made her even more late for work than he’d already made her every other day that week.

  “Too bad you also need health insurance,” he said with a groan as he flopped onto his back, trying to think about moving boxes, red-eye flights, his complicated panic over the looming prospect of a nine-to-five job. All of which served remarkably well to make his dick flag.

  “Yeah, yeah, Mister Practical,” she grumbled, climbing over him and reaching for her bathrobe. “Do you ever let yourself make a bad decision?”

  I might be making one right now.

  But at least he had the sense not to say that. Or maybe he didn’t say it because it simply wasn’t true.

  He didn’t know. He couldn’t say. All he knew was that Amanda was handing him a towel and dragging him up to shower with her. How could he say no to that?

  “I just want to see you,” she said as they headed into the bathroom, taking advantage of the fact that her roommates were already at work. He could read the unspoken extra sentence as she glanced at him through the bathroom mirror before sliding off her robe. While I still can.

  Why, exactly, was he insisting she go to work today?

  “I could meet you for lunch,” he said. “If you can get away.”

  “For you? I’m sure I could manage.”

  “Central Park West,” he said. “Sheep’s Meadow. I’ll bring a picnic.”

  “Seriously?” She stepped into the hot water, eyes lit up in surprise.

  “I’ll pick up sandwiches,” he amended. “But it’s sunny for a change. We can find a bench.”

  She grinned. “That’s a good enough reason for me to go to the office.”

  “For sandwiches?”

  She stepped close to him, and he felt the steam coming off her body, the damp warmth of her hair as she pressed her head to his chest. He wanted to lick every droplet of water from her skin as it had the pleasure of running down her body. He wanted to find every possible way to make her his.

  “No, silly,” she said, and he knew she was smiling into his chest. “For the pleasure of looking forward to a picnic with you.”

  It was all he could think about for the entire morning. Seeing her smile, feeling her touch, being near her in every way he could. He found himself grinning the whole subway ride home, thinking only of when he could see her again.

  He wasn’t even worried about Luke anymore. The texts asking him where he was had trickled to almost nothing. Luke had plans, too. It wasn’t like his brother never went on dates or had other friends and plenty to do on his own.

  So he was whistling to himself as he got to his apartment that morning, coffee in hand, Danish in the other, thinking about what he could catch up on that morning while he had the place to himself. He could look for a new running club in L.A. Maybe he’d have time to do some training on the weekends. The whole idea had been to move away from coaching—but if he loved it, if he missed it, then why couldn’t he make it work?

  As soon as he opened the door, he
stopped. The light was on.

  The light wasn’t supposed to be on.

  Luke had probably left it on in his hurry that morning—that was typical. Noah paused for only a second before opening the door.

  And found himself face to face with Luke. Sitting at their small kitchen table, staring at the door.

  “Oh,” Noah said, biting into the Danish. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

  “Sit down,” Luke said.

  Noah stepped back. Luke’s voice was hard. He never sounded like that, no matter how pissed he was.

  “I thought you’d be at work,” Noah said cautiously, dropping his keys by the door.

  “And I thought you’d be around for more than five seconds a day.”

  “I’ve been busy,” Noah said. “With the move. Stacking up trainees to make extra cash before we go. You know the drill.” It wasn’t true, but close enough. It could’ve been true if he hadn’t been spending all his time with Amanda instead.

  “You’re wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday,” Luke said coolly.

  Noah looked down at his black running pants, black shirt, the jacket with luminescent darts down the sides. “I wear this all the time.”

  “No, you specifically wore that shirt yesterday. Don’t act like you just went out for that pastry this morning before I got up.”

  “I’m not aware that I was acting like anything.”

  When Luke got mad, Noah got calm. That was what he did. It was his job in his family, to rein in his brother and keep everything running as it should.

  So he just kept doing what he was doing—taking off his shoes, sipping his coffee, stepping around Luke and into the kitchen to get a plate so he didn’t get crumbs all over the floor. “Why aren’t you at work?” he asked as he came back and stood by the table, not sure whether Luke’s folded arms meant he was supposed to sit—or meant he’d better keep his distance.

  “I’m going in late,” Luke said. “This seemed like the only way I’d ever get to see you.”

  “You mean catch me.”

  “I just want to know what the fuck is going on.”