Shouldn’t Want You: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance

by Monroe, Lilian

  I glance at Nadia, who’s chewing her lip. “You don’t think he’s worth the baggage?” she asks.

  My chest squeezes. Sacha is worth all the baggage in the world. I’d drag a suitcase full of concrete everywhere just to be with him. I’d do anything for him.

  But would he do anything for me?

  Is this just a one-sided, pathetic infatuation?

  “Maybe it was just a summer fling. An old flame.” I let out a sigh. “He’ll be gone soon anyway. He has a restaurant to run in New York, and there’s nothing holding him here. He told me he was getting rid of his father’s businesses. I think he’s just cutting ties so he can go.”

  “There’s you,” Nadia says softly, arching an eyebrow. “You’re holding him here.”

  “I didn’t hold him here ten years ago, and I don’t think I’m holding him here now. He’ll be gone soon.”

  Nadia clicks her tongue, shrugging. “Maybe, maybe not.” Her phone dings with a text. She glances at it. “It’s Jackson. He said he’s at the Blue Cat Bar and desperately needs some company.”

  “I think he has a sixth sense for when one of us needs a drink.” I grin.

  “Let’s go,” she says, pulling me up off the sofa. “You need to get out of your head.”

  After a couple of drinks and many laughs with my two best friends, my heart feels calmer.

  “Let’s do tequila shots,” Jackson says, waving down the bartender.

  “And that’s my cue to leave.” I grin, getting off my bar stool.

  “Come on, Willow,” Jackson says, his eyes gleaming. “You need to let loose.”

  “What I need is to get to sleep. My brother’s wedding is in six days and I have a lot of work to do.”

  Jackson sticks out his tongue and then glances at Nadia. “What about you? Are you lame, or will you have a teeny, tiny bit of tequila with me?”

  Nadia laughs, shaking her head. “You’re a terrible influence.”

  “Excuse me, I’m a great influence,” Jackson says, offended, putting a hand to his chest. “You would both be moping at home without me.”

  “That’s true.” Nadia grins. She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “One cheeky little shot?”

  “Absolutely not.” I laugh, grabbing my purse. “I prefer not to vomit on a Sunday night.”

  “Vomiting Monday through Saturday only. Got it.” Jackson nods. “I’ll keep that in mind for next week.”

  Laughing, I give my friends a hug and wave goodbye. When I step out of the stuffy bar, my eyes drift over to the Woodvale Hotel, where Sacha is staying. My heart squeezes, and I almost walk away.

  Maybe it’s the couple of drinks I had at the bar, or maybe it’s plain, heartsick stupidity, but instead of walking away, I change my course. I walk up to the hotel and enter the lobby.

  My mouth goes dry. I shouldn’t be here.

  If Sacha wanted to talk to me, surely he would have told me? Called me? Texted me? I haven’t heard from him since he picked his car up at my house.

  Then again, I asked him for space. That’s what he’s giving me.

  Shaking my head, I take a deep breath and head for the elevators. He told me he loved me. If that’s true, he’ll want to see me.

  Plus, I want to tell him that I get it. He was a kid when he left, and he probably thought leaving was his only option. He did exactly what I did—took care of himself and came out better on the other side. That’s why we love each other. That’s why we get along.

  We’re similar.

  Maybe we’re made for each other.

  With every step I take toward the elevator, I start to shed the layers of pain away and walk toward forgiveness.

  He couldn’t have done anything at nineteen years old to expose his father. He probably couldn’t have done anything even at twenty-nine years old! His father had a stranglehold on this town, as evidenced by the way my parents were basically chucked out of all the social functions the minute they got on Alastair Black’s bad side.

  His father was too powerful. Sacha’s only option was to leave.

  My heart eases as the thought crosses my mind. In that instant, I forgive Sacha for leaving. All the hurt and anger and resentment I’ve carried with me evaporates, and all that’s left behind is love.

  Of course he left. I would probably have done the same thing. Haven’t I always protected myself? Isn’t that what I’ve been doing all week?

  How could I have been so blind?

  My heart hammers against my ribcage as I wait for the elevator doors to open. I press the button twenty more times, even though I know it won’t make the elevator come any faster. My hands are clammy. When the doors finally open, I rush inside, drumming my fingers on my leg as I start to move upward.

  I close my eyes, imagining what I’ll say.

  Hey, Sacha. Sorry about earlier. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. I love you.

  Should I open with an apology? Maybe I should just kiss him, and let that say what I mean.

  A smile drifts over my lips as I think about him opening the door to me. He’ll be surprised, sure, but I know he’ll be happy. Every time he sees me, his face brightens.

  Tonight will be no different.

  He loves me, and I love him. I’d be a fool to throw that away.

  The elevator doors ding as they open onto his floor, and I turn down the hallway toward his room. We came here once or twice together, so I know which room is his. The closer I get, the drier my mouth becomes. I lick my lips to try to get some moisture on them, straightening out my shirt and patting down my hair.

  Excitement curls in the pit of my stomach, and I can’t keep the smile from my face. I’m in love with Sacha Black. I wholly, completely forgive him for leaving. I get it now. There’s no bitterness left inside me, and I can’t wait to wrap my arms around him and tell him how much I adore every single cell in his body. I love him beyond understanding. I am completely, head-over-heels, desperately, hopelessly in love with him.

  Just around the corner is Sacha’s room. I take a deep breath and round the bend, frowning when I see the hotel room door open.

  Outside Sacha’s room, a maid’s trolley is parked.

  My heart thumps. A cold jet rushes down my spine. Something’s wrong.

  My steps slow as I approach the door, dread curling in the pit of my stomach. Why would the maid be cleaning his room late at night? Did something happen?

  When I reach the doorway, I suck in a breath and glance inside.

  “Hello? Sacha?” My voice is thin and reedy, and I hate the way it breaks when I say his name.

  Even before the maid pokes her head around the corner, I already know he’s gone.

  31

  Sacha

  My phone buzzes when I turn it on after the short flight to Seattle.

  Willow: Where are you? I went to your hotel and you were gone.

  My blood ices, and I read the text a few times over. She sent it almost an hour ago, and I can imagine how torturous it must be to wait for an answer.

  I’m such an idiot. I left, again, without thinking of Willow. I was so convinced that she didn’t want to see me again—that I had to prove myself to her—that I just hopped on a plane and flew off. After my conversation with Max, I was riding a high, solely focused on what I had to do.

  To Willow, it probably looks like I did the exact same thing I did ten years ago. She probably thinks I left without saying goodbye.

  Instead of texting her back, I press the call button. I need to talk to her. This can’t be resolved with a few messages.

  “Willow.” I’m breathless when she answers the phone. Another passenger on the plane jostles past me to grab his bag from the overhead compartment, and I struggle to keep the phone to my ear. I move back to my seat and turn my head toward the window, ignoring the other passengers.

  “You left.” Her tone is cold. Can I blame her?

  “I’m in Seattle.”

  “Seattle?” She repeats.

  “I have a meeting with a lawyer. I’m
trying to sort out the mess my father left behind when he died.”

  “I see.”

  There are so many people around me, and the lawyer told me not to mention anything to anyone. I’m desperate to tell her the truth. To explain why I’m here and show her how much I care about her.

  Last time we talked, telling her about the scholarship felt like it would be a slap in the face. But seeing Max’s reaction, I think I might have been wrong. I’m just not sure telling her over the phone—when I’m supposed to be disembarking the plane—is the best place to tell her. It should be a face-to-face conversation.

  “I’ll explain everything when I’m back,” I say. “I promise.”

  “Okay,” she says, letting out a sigh. Her voice sounds strained.

  I pause, letting people filter off the plane as I sit back down. My heart thumps as I realize why she texted me. “How did you know I left?”

  A sniffle sounds on the other side of the line. “I went to your hotel room,” Willow finally admits. “I wanted to tell you that I was sorry, and that I understood you leaving. It’s probably what I would have done, too.”

  My breath catches as my heart starts to thump. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” She chuckles softly, sighing. “I felt like an idiot when I saw you were gone. I’m glad you’re not back in New York.”

  My heart soars. Do I really deserve her? She doesn’t even know about the scholarship, and she still found it in her to forgive me. She came to find me! There’s a part of her that still wants to see me. A part of her forgives me for leaving. A part of her wants exactly what I want—to be together.

  Maybe the past isn’t too tangled for us to make sense of it. Maybe there’s hope for us.

  The last of the passengers filter off the plane, and I grab my bag to start getting off. I keep the phone to my ear as my heart starts to race.

  “It’s nice to hear your voice,” I say. I wish I had the words to tell her that she just made my heart grow in my chest. That she means the world to me. That everything I’ve done, I’ve done it for her.

  “You too.” Willow sounds quiet. She lets out a heavy sigh. “How long will you be in Seattle?”

  “Couple of days,” I answer. “I’ll be back for Max’s wedding. Willow,” I add, sucking in a breath.

  “Yeah?”

  I hesitate. I shouldn’t say it. It’s too soon. There’s too much to say before I can tell her the words I’m desperate to speak. But I can’t help myself.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  She pauses for a moment, and the seconds tick by torturously slowly. Finally, she answers. “Okay.”

  My heart sinks, but I won’t let it bring me down. She answered the phone and she wanted to see me. I have to believe that Willow loves me back, even if she can’t say it right now.

  We say goodbye and hang up the phone, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face. Yes, I left without telling her again. Yes, again, I did it thinking of her the whole time, but I went about it the wrong way.

  But this time, it might work out.

  She answered the phone when I called. She went to my hotel. She wanted to see me.

  I roll my carry-on suitcase behind me and make my way out of the airport and hop into a taxi. My meeting with Nolan is in the morning, and hopefully after that, I can move on from my past and be with the woman I love.

  The next five days are more hectic than I could have imagined. I end up staying in Seattle the whole time, meeting with Nolan and his team every day.

  On Friday, the older man shakes his head and pinches his lips. “I still think it’s too early, but we’ll file these documents on Monday.” He tosses a stack of reports from my father’s businesses onto his desk. “We need to be careful about how we do this to make sure we protect you and your mother.”

  I nod, my throat tightening. “I just want everything to be out in the open.”

  “You’re going to lose money.” He stares at me, folding his hands on his desk. “Once we hand this over to the IRS, the tax bill will be immense. I’m talking millions.”

  I don’t care about the money. It was earned illegally, anyway. It’s time I stood up and did the right thing. No more hiding. No more shrinking away and turning my back on my family. No more hiding from the things my father did.

  We may lose everything, but we’ll gain the one thing my father never had.

  Integrity. Honesty. Love.

  When I board the flight back to Woodvale, I feel exhausted, yet happy. Willow and I have texted each other a few times over the course of the week, but we haven’t talked that much. There’s still distance between us, and I know I need to see her in person to know where we stand. I’ll be with her soon. Talk to her. See her. Hopefully, kiss her and tell her how much I love her.

  I pray she says it back.

  I hope she’ll understand what I’m doing. I hope she’ll see that everything I’ve done—from leaving, to coming back, to working on exposing my father’s fraudulent businesses—has all been for her.

  I want Willow to look at me and see a man she’s proud to call her partner. I want her to see that I’ll never walk away from her again. I won’t take the easy way out. I’ll face any difficulties I need to face, because that’s what it takes to be by her side.

  Always.

  32

  Willow

  On the Friday before Max’s wedding, my brother comes to find me at my house. I invite him in, drawing my eyebrows together.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. You talk to Sacha?” He slumps down on a sofa, intertwining his fingers behind his head. He studies my face.

  I shrug. “A bit.”

  “Are you still mad at him?”

  I consider his words and finally shake my head. “No.”

  Max takes a deep breath as his eyes get a faraway look in them. “I was mad when he left, but I feel like an idiot now. He sacrificed so much for us. For you.”

  I tilt my head. “What do you mean? I thought he was just protecting himself?”

  Max frowns. “The scholarship.”

  I stare at my brother, not understanding. My heart beats hollowly, and I think of the look on Sacha’s face when we spoke in the shadow of the treehouse. It felt like he was holding back, but I thought it was only a decade of pain that stood between us.

  I gulp past a lump in my throat. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your college scholarship,” my brother says, as if that explains everything.

  “What about my college scholarship? What does that have to do with Sacha?”

  Max’s eyes widen, and a chuckle starts to bubble up through him. “That fucking noble idiot.” He laughs.

  “Max, what are you talking about? Tell me.”

  Max laughs some more, lacing his fingers behind his head. “He didn’t tell you?”

  I know my brother is enjoying toying with me right now. He loves dangling this information over me and teasing me with it.

  Brothers. They’ll do anything to annoy you. Even when your heart hangs in the balance.

  “Max.” I sound like my mother when I say his name.

  Max grins wider and my heart thumps. He shakes his head. “I can’t believe he didn’t say anything.”

  “Max.”

  My brother laughs, finally relenting. His face grows serious as he takes a deep breath. “Sacha’s father told him he’d give you the Woodvale University academic scholarship if Sacha left town and never exposed him for fraud.” Max’s eyes land on mine. “He stayed silent for you, Willow. And the asshole was too fucking humble to tell you about it.”

  Air whooshes past my ears. My mouth feels dry as my lips drop open. My stomach bottoms out, and my heart takes off at breakneck speed.

  A strange mix of emotions rises up inside me. First and foremost, shock.

  Then shame. I blamed Sacha for leaving, thinking he was a coward. In fact, he did the bravest, most honorable thing I’ve ever heard of. He left for me. Stayed quiet for me.
/>   Maybe, he even came back for me.

  Finally, a wave of embarrassment comes over it. My whole identity has been based on the fact that I built my business from the ground up. I thought I’d put myself through college and started a business without a leg up from the Blacks. I thought I’d created my livelihood off the back of my own efforts, and I owed nothing to anyone.

  Now, Max is telling me that none of that is true? That I wouldn’t have any of this if it weren’t for Alastair Black giving me a scholarship that I wasn’t even supposed to receive?

  I drop my head in my hands as my brother moves to sit beside me. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and gives me an awkward brotherly hug, patting my back a bit too roughly before pulling away.

  “Cheer up, Willow. At least now you know you won’t die alone.”

  I throw him an unamused glance, and Max starts chuckling.

  “I mean, as long as you get your head out of your ass and start talking to Sacha again. I didn’t give you guys my blessing so you could go and break up at the first hurdle.”

  “Shut up, Max,” I grunt, nudging him away from me. My brother just laughs, putting me in a headlock and rubbing his knuckles over my head. As much as I scream and protest and push him away, a smile still slips onto my lips. Max hugs me once more, and then goes back to his soon-to-be wife.

  I listen to my old house creaking, and I wait for tomorrow morning, when I’ll see Sacha again.

  The morning of Max’s wedding, my stomach is full of butterflies.

  All I’ve been able to think about all night is that damned scholarship, and the fact that Sacha gave up his life in Woodvale for me.

  He didn’t run away. He didn’t turn his back on me. He didn’t stay silent because of cowardice.

  He stayed silent to protect me. To give me a better life.

  Because he loves me.

  He’s loved me for as long as I’ve known him, and I almost turned my back on him and threw it all away.

  Trying my best to clear my head, I take a long hot shower and pull on some comfortable clothing. I have a few last-minute preparations to do before the wedding today, and I want to check that everything is in order.