The Right Kind of Wrong: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Fabiola Francisco

  “I did more than that,” I waggle my eyebrows, and her cheeks flush deep red.

  “Uh… I’m gonna… Yeah, I’m gonna go… That way.” Allyson looks around the town, desperate for an escape route. When she points to the closed pharmacy, I chuckle, but let her get away with her stuttering and frightful expression. I’ll cut her some slack. It’d probably be best if I keep my distance as well since all I can think about is how she’d look riding my dick.

  - - - - -

  I find myself sitting out on Easton’s patio after we’ve finished eating lunch, talking to two of his friends, Knox and Harris. It’s fascinating to hear how the music business works. Knox Bentley is a big country musician, and he and Harris have their own music label.

  Easton has made a home for himself here, after living away from his hometown for years. The way he’d talk about it when we were in college, and how he’d bring up Faith after a couple of beers, I knew he’d end up here one day. It was only a matter of time, which works for me since I can travel and visit.

  “Hey,” Easton says, as he sits next to me.

  “How’s it feel to be married?” I ask with a grin.

  “Fucking fantastic.” He leans back, stretching his legs beneath the table, and smiles.

  Knox and Harris agree, and that’s when I realize all of these people are married, some with kids.

  I haven’t thought about marrying a girl since… Well, never, actually. I’ve never had that one girl who’s made me want to settle down, have a white picket fence, and grow old on rocking chairs.

  I look around his backyard, and I catch Allyson talking to her mom, Charlene, and Faith. She giggles and slaps the top of the table, a snort coming from the back of her throat. Damn, she is beautiful. How had I never noticed her before?

  “Camden.” Someone calls my name, and I turn my attention back to our table. Easton is looking at me with raised eyebrows.

  That’s right, he’s the reason I’ve never noticed Allyson as anything more than a friend or a kid—although she’s definitely a woman. It’s easier to pretend she’s still that annoying teenager I met when Easton and I were in college.

  “What did you say?” I lean back with a tight smile.

  “What time do you leave tomorrow?”

  “Oh, I think at four. I have to double-check.”

  “You’re not flying to Richmond? My mom leaves at noon.” Easton tilts his head, tipping his beer bottle back and forth on the tabletop.

  “Nope, I’m going to New York. I’ve got to meet with the people from Hotline Hookup about the dating app they needed help with.” Working as a computer engineer is great when I freelance since I get to travel to a lot of places, but it’s also a lot more work than being with one stable company.

  A new dating app is starting up, and Logan, a buddy from college, called me up a few weeks ago saying they need help with a glitch they hit while working on the app. Since Logan and I worked together with a few other people on another dating app a year or so ago, he called in an SOS. I guess the owner also wants to make sure he’s getting what his competition has or better. Works for me—a job is a job, and if it pays well, even better.

  “How long will you be in New York? We’re headed that way next week for some shows,” Knox says.

  “Really? Let’s meet up if you have time. I’ll be there until the end of the month.”

  Knox nods, and we swap numbers so we can have dinner one night when he and Harris are out that way.

  “How about you?” I look at Easton. “Honeymoon starts when?”

  “We leave for Greece in the morning. Ready for some R&R with my girl,” he smiles, rubbing his hands together. Happy for him, I slap his shoulder and shake my head. This guy’s been destined to marry Faith since before I knew him, and it’s great to see him finally living that life.

  What he says next definitely gets my attention, though, and I’m not sure if it’s in a good or bad way, but it’s definitely taunting. “I think Ally flies to New York, too, on her way back to Madrid. Maybe you guys are on the same flight..”

  I swallow thickly and offer a tight smile, tipping my head back as I drink my beer. “Maybe.” I nod. Fuck, as if I needed another reason to think about her, now we may be on an airplane together for hours.

  I’m doomed if I thought I could sleep with her one wild night and forget it ever happened. All day I’ve been trying to erase the memory of her touch and her cries. All day I’ve been fighting against sneaking away with her and stealing one more kiss. All fucking day I’ve been averting my gaze and reminding myself that it’d ruin my friendship with Easton. He’s like family, more of a brother than a friend, which should make me consider Allyson like a sister, not someone I am fantasizing about. No woman is worth tearing this apart. Not even his own flesh and blood.

  chapter 3

  Allyson

  I rush into the airport, freaking out that I’ll miss my flight. Instead of getting a ride with my family and waiting hours for my afternoon flight, I decided to wait around town. Unfortunately, the taxi took forever to pick me up at The Farm House Bed and Breakfast, making me arrive with forty-five minutes to spare. If the check-in line is long, I’m screwed.

  As I race to the counter, I find it empty and almost chastise myself. I should’ve known there’d be no line. This airport is tiny, servicing the few towns in the area, and it’s definitely not the hustle and bustle you find in Madrid or even Richmond.

  Releasing a sigh of relief, I make my way to security and pass through in no time. Checking the gate, I make my way over and freeze when I see disheveled brown hair looking down at a phone that has earbuds attached. This is not happening.

  Pretending I don’t see Camden, I roll my bag toward the line starting to form for boarding. Except my traitorous eyes glance his way as I pass by him, and he must sense it because he looks up with raised eyebrows and a slow smile that I’m sure is the same one he gave me when I agreed to sleep with him. A shiver runs through me, and Camden’s smile grows, misreading my reaction.

  “Your brother mentioned you might be on this flight.” He leans back, placing his hands behind his head in an attempt to be cool, except he accidentally knocks the back of the head of the person behind him, who turns with a glare. His grimace is almost comical as he drops his hands on his lap.

  “Are you going to New York?” I scrunch up my nose in confusion.

  “Yup, for work.” Camden sits taller, patting the seat next to him. “You’re welcome to sit.”

  “Uh, I’m actually going to go stand in line… See when they’re boarding.” My voice does nothing to conceal my discomfort, and it all has to do with the reason that I can’t stop thinking about him. Camden probably reads right through me, but he nods without another word and lets me walk away.

  He probably doesn’t want to deal with a woman who is clingy. Not that I’m clingy. I’d rather hide in a bathroom than seem clingy to a guy, which might be why my status is #singleAF. But Camden is one guy I don’t want to think I’m expecting more from him. I’m not. Whatsoever. Not even a repeat of my fuzzy memory to catalog for a lonely night.

  I’ve got steamy romance novels for that.

  I take a gulp of air as I stand in line, reading the time on the board over the counter. Fifteen minutes until we board. Surely, Camden and I will be seated rows apart.

  - - - - -

  As I stow my bag in the overhead compartment, a flight attendant informs me that my seat has been changed.

  “Excuse me?” I arch an eyebrow, double-checking the seat on my boarding pass.

  “Right this way.” She turns and guides me back toward the front of the plane, signaling to an empty aisle seat in business class.

  “Uh, this must be—”

  “No mistake, Ally.” My eyes dart toward Camden in the window seat. “Figured the least I could do is offer you a nicer seat.”

  “Least you could do, my ass,” I mumble. I’ll never erase the memory of him if he’s this close to me, doing nice thin
gs.

  “Stop grumbling under your breath and sit.” Camden rolls his eyes.

  “Thanks,” I squeak and drop on my seat after stowing away my bag. “You didn’t have to,” I add as I buckle my seatbelt.

  “The seat was empty, and it was no big deal. I fly enough that I’ve got miles saved for any upgrade.”

  I nod, grabbing my e-reader from my purse and switching it to airplane mode before opening my current book.

  “What are you reading?” Camden leans over to look at the screen. “Is that a naked guy?” His voice fills with humor.

  “He’s not naked,” I argue. He’s just shirtless. I don’t have to defend my reading preferences to anyone.

  “What’s it about?” He shifts to look at me.

  With raised eyebrows, I assess him, waiting for the punchline. Instead, he genuinely waits to hear what I have to say.

  “It’s about friends-with-benefits that have had a rough upbringing and are afraid of commitment.”

  “Cool,” he says casually. “I’m more of a non-fiction reader.”

  “Okay,” I say awkwardly, looking back at my e-reader and finding my spot.

  As the airplane begins to move, I lean my head back on the headrest and close my eyes, taking deep, even breaths. I say a quick prayer, my heart beating fiercely in my chest.

  “Are you afraid of flying?” Camden’s breath tickles my ear.

  “No,” I respond through clenched teeth, keeping my eyes shut.

  “You could’ve fooled me,” he chuckles, and I open one eye, glaring at him.

  “Just the takeoff,” I add as a way of explanation. “Freaks me out.” I let the e-reader rest on my lap and hold the armrests as the plane rolls through the runway. Once I feel the tires lift from the ground, my hands grip the armrests until my skin stretches and the rubber from it marks my skin.

  “It’s okay, Ally.” Camden’s soft voice sounds in my ear. I nod tightly, taking a deep breath. Blinking my eyes open, I peek out the window to see a ton of clouds passing through. Or the plane passing through the clouds. Whichever it is.

  A jolt makes me forget about clouds and planes, and my hands are back on the armrests as if holding on with all my might would prevent me from falling if this thing goes down.

  “Breathe,” Camden whispers, placing his hand over mine. The soft touch is a contrast to his teasing these last two days, comforting me instead of making fun of what happened between us.

  “It’s just a little turbulence on the way up,” he says softly, and I nod, unclenching my jaw.

  “Yeah.” My voice comes out hoarse as my body bounces along with the plane. “Damn it,” I murmur.

  “There… You see.” Camden says after a few minutes, once the plane has righted itself and we’re soaring above the clouds. “No harm done. Well, except for the armrest you had a chokehold on.” His teasing words make me laugh as my body relaxes.

  “I hate takeoff.”

  “No shit. I never would’ve guessed,” he teases me, and I crack a smile.

  When the flight attendant walks by, Camden calls for her and orders two scotches. I lift my eyebrows as I look at him, and he winks.

  “It’s what you were drinking at the wedding. Figured you could use some liquid courage for the rest of the flight.”

  I groan and nod. He’s right; I need liquid courage, but not because of the aircraft I’m on. I need the courage to sit next to this man for the next few hours and not break down, or jump him and become a member of the mile-high club.

  Before yesterday morning, Camden and I would be totally normal, chatting and joking with each other. Sitting beside him wouldn’t feel weird. I just need to go back to that. Channel the pre-one-night-stand Allyson and Camden and get over my embarrassment. So, I had sex with the guy. No big deal, right?

  Turning to look at him, Camden holds his glass and tilts it my way. “Cheers.”

  I wish I could be as cool as him. I take a chug of the whiskey, the amber liquid burning my insides as I hold back a cough.

  “Take it slow…” Camden says with furrowed eyebrows.

  I nod and let the glass rest on the small fold-down table so some of the ice can melt and water it down a bit to make it easier to drink.

  “What are you doing in New York?” I ask, hoping regular conversation will break apart this awkwardness that’s settled over us.

  “I’m helping with a new dating app system. I’m meeting with the owner and a buddy of mine who was hired for the job, to help them get a secure and effective system in place after they hit a wall in the creation of it.”

  “That’s cool.” I take him in. Camden could talk about computers for hours and not realize the other person has no idea what he’s talking about. Once he starts, he gets lost and babbles on and on.

  “How is life in Spain? Everything you thought it would be?” He lifts his eyebrows in genuine curiosity.

  “It’s been great. The first year was a little rough in the beginning with all the differences in culture and just general mindset, but I’m really getting the hang of it. Besides, Madrid is a huge city, so I’ve got everything I need within reach.”

  “That’s good to hear.” He nods pensively. “And the job is good?”

  “Yeah, the new branch is basically up and running, and I’ve been responsible for the HR department. It’s been a lot of work, but it’s worth it.”

  “How’s the language barrier? Have you made friends?” He shifts in his seat, taking a sip of his drink while he waits for my answer.

  “I’ve been learning Spanish. They’ve offered classes in the office for the few of us Americans that came with the company, so that’s been great. As for friends, I’ve made a few, mostly colleagues. Fortunately, I already knew the co-workers who came from the Richmond office.”

  “Awesome, I bet the nightlife is amazing.”

  I nod with a smile. “It’s definitely nothing like we’re used to here in the States. Actually, the whole lifestyle is night and day. Noon cocktails, soccer games, ten PM dinners. It’s an experience.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  I smile and drink my scotch, relaxing for the first time in over twenty-four hours. This is how Camden and I used to be. We’d talk, joke around, catch up in each other’s lives—not this weirdness that’s settled between us. Surely, two friends can sleep together and not let it affect their relationship. We wouldn’t be the first or last to fall into bed together after a few drinks and remain friends.

  Taking a healthy drink and a deep, calming breath, I risk telling Camden, “Listen, about yesterday or the night before, whatever,” I’m already screwing this up by rambling. “What happened,” I correct. “You know what I mean. Things don’t have to be awkward, right? We can forget about it and remain friends as usual. No need to make a mountain out of a molehill. We’re two consenting adults that scratched an itch.”

  Camden coughs when I say that, clearing his throat. “Don’t worry about, Ally. You’re still the same pestering girl I used to make fun of.”

  “Ha, ha, ha,” I say dryly.

  “Let’s make a deal. One night won’t ruin years of friendship.” He holds his almost empty glass up. “Besides, as soon as you get back to your real life, you’ll find a Spaniard to sweep you off your feet.” I hear a hint of resentment in his tone, but I ignore it and blame the whiskey.

  “Cheers to not letting it make things awkward.” I tap my glass with his and take a drink. Then I add, “I’m not in Spain permanently, so getting into a relationship would be doomed from the beginning.”

  “You may want to scratch an itch,” Camden bites back his laughter, rinsing it away with his drink. I glare at him, but he looks at me with a cocky smile. “Or… You could call me,” he winks, and I fish out an ice cube from my glass and throw it at him.

  “Hey!” He argues, reaching in his glass, but he realizes it’s empty. “Payback will be served.” He points a finger at me.

  “Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” I joke, tossing my head back
in laughter. That’s when I feel something cold hit my throat.

  I snap my head back and look at Camden, who whistles innocently. I look in my glass and find the other ice cube missing.

  “Did you stick your hand in my drink?” I ask incredulously.

  “I’d never. What do you take me as?”

  “A pig,” I murmur, waving down a flight attendant as if I were in a restaurant or something. When she stands next to me, I order another drink.

  “Add it to his tab,” I jut my thumb toward him.

  Camden laughs at the same time as the flight attendant says, “Business class doesn’t have to pay for their drinks.”

  “Humor me, and make him pay for it. Make it a triple, so it costs him more.”

  The flight attendant grins and walks away, probably humoring me like I asked instead of actually charging Camden for my drink.

  “No drink for me?” he asks with a pout.

  “Order your own.” I lean back with a victorious smile. Yeah, it’s not a huge win, but at least I got the last say.

  Camden mumbles something under his breath that sounds like, I’ll order you, but I ignore it, blaming my wild imagination and the burning memory that won’t abandon me.

  By the time we land, I’m three scotches in and feeling the heaviness of the liquor in my bloodstream.

  “How long is your layover?” Camden asks, reaching for my bag in the overhead compartment and handing it to me.

  “Two hours.”

  “Eat something, or you’ll feel like shit on your next flight.”

  “Aye-aye, captain.” I salute him and giggle.

  Camden groans and squeezes his eyes tightly.

  I freeze when his hand wraps around my waist, and he presses into me. “If you want, you can submit to me as your captain and be at my mercy. It’ll be a sure-fire way to burn off the alcohol in your system.” His nose skims my jaw, and I suck in a gasp, stuck in place.

  When Camden leans back and looks down into my eyes, his carefree smile is painted on his lips, framed in his stubble. “That should do the trick to sober you up.” He chuckles mischievously, and my mouth drops.