The Secret to Dating Your Best Friend’s Sister

by Quinn, Meghan

  “Oh yeah”—I roll my eyes—“a real winner.”

  She dances her fingers up my chest and pinches my chin. “Okay, what do you have for me that’s not stuffed in your pants?”

  Before I reach to the side where I’ve been storing her gift, I say, “You know, ever since we’ve been dating you’ve become more vulgar. I think I’m rubbing off on you.”

  “Oh, you’ve been rubbing off on me, all right.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

  “Jesus,” I mutter while chuckling. “Your brother is going to kill me for corrupting you.”

  “Please.” She waves her hand as I reach down and grab the small box. “Rath corrupted me years ago. I just haven’t let it out until you came around.”

  “Good to know. Now, are you ready for my gift?”

  Giddily, she straddles my lap and holds out her hands. “Yes.”

  I place the box in her grasp and watch as her eyes light up. “Bram, this is a Tiffany box.”

  “I know.”

  “That means it was expensive.”

  “Jules”—I motion to the balcony—“look around you. We are out on a balcony off my master bedroom in the middle of Manhattan. I have money. A gift for my girlfriend from Tiffany’s isn’t going to set me back.”

  “Still . . .”

  “Just open it.” I nod at the gift.

  With a grateful smile, she unties the ribbon and lifts the long thin lid off the box and then gasps. “Oh Bram.” She lifts the thin gold necklace and threads it through her fingers. Our initials rest on the small strand, one letter strung through the chain on one side and another letter on the other side. I’ve never bought a girl jewelry before, so I’m actually nervous. But I wanted my girl to have something that depicted us.

  “B for me and J for you.”

  Her smile falters and her face twists as she looks up at me. “B and J, Bram. Our initials are BJ. You got me a BJ necklace.”

  Oh.

  Shit.

  I drag my hand over my face. “That’s why the girl was looking at me weird. Fuck.” I scoop the necklace out of her hand. “I’ll return it. That was stupid. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “No.” She reaches for it but I’m already stuffing it back in the box. “It wasn’t stupid, Bram, just . . . odd.”

  “Fuck, I’ll return it.” I can’t help but laugh though. Fucking BJ, of course that’s what our initials are. “You know, if you want, I can add queen to the necklace, since in my eyes you’re the BJ queen.”

  That gets me a swat of the chest and a death glare. “Don’t call me that.”

  “It’s true though. You suck me better than anyone ever has.”

  “Bram, cut it out, your neighbors can hear.”

  “What? No, they can’t.” I clear my throat and scream, “Julia is the BJ Queen.” I smile at my shocked girlfriend. “See, now they can hear me.”

  Her eyes zero in on me. “I’m going to knife-hand you.”

  “Nah, keep your knife-hand to yourself, babe. You don’t want to embarrass yourself. In the meantime, I’ll have them switch the letters. JB is much better, don’t you think?”

  She hops off my lap. “How about just J . . . the B is losing all girlfriend privileges.” She takes off toward my bedroom where she starts putting on layers of clothing rather than taking them off.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m layering up.” She tucks her shirt into her pants and then reaches for a big brown sweatshirt—aka, her we’re-not-having-sex-tonight sweatshirt.”

  “No, not the cockblocker. Do not put on the fucking cockblocker.”

  She pops her head through the neck hole and then aggressively puts her arms through the sleeves. “This is on you.”

  “Hey, I should be rewarded for such a thoughtful gift, not punished.”

  “You should have thought about that before screaming about the blow job queen.”

  “Babe,” I level with her, “that’s a compliment.”

  She chucks a pillow at me. “You’re dead to me tonight. If I wasn’t so addicted to your mattress and in need of a good night’s sleep, I would be charging back to my apartment right now. However, I will be sleeping on my side of the bed and expect you to keep your hands to yourself.”

  “Expect all you want.” I wiggle my fingers at her. “But I will be playing with your nipples, one way or another.”

  * * *

  “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t.” I laugh as I lean down and press a kiss against her sweaty head.

  “Why are you impossible to resist?”

  “Because we’re soul mates, and when you’re soul mates, your hearts connect on many levels, which makes it impossible to resist each other.”

  “Or maybe it’s because I’m addicted to your tongue.”

  I laugh. “Or that.” I kiss her bare shoulder, all layers of clothing now on the floor. “In all seriousness, I want to get the necklace changed because I really want you to wear it. I’ve never gotten a gift like that for someone before, and this is kind of special to me.” Will she think I’m lame?

  She cups my cheek from over her shoulder and leans her head back, matching her lips with mine. A light whisper of a kiss breezes over my lips before she says, “I’ll wear it as is. I don’t want you to change it.”

  “Nah, I’m going to switch it, just in case someone is a dick to you. I don’t want your clients thinking you’re promoting blow jobs when I know you’re very cautious about sex on the first date with your clients.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “When you have money, not long at all. I’ll have it for you to wear tomorrow.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.” I give her a kiss.

  She sighs into my embrace. “Thank you, Bram. I absolutely love it.”

  I give her another squeeze, the word love floating around in my head, the word on the tip of my tongue. If I told her I loved her, would she say it back? Would I scare her? Is it still too soon?

  As she rests in my arms, a contented sigh leaving her lips, I can’t help but think . . . soon, I can tell her soon.

  Chapter Thirty

  JULIA

  Bram: Dinner, my place. Steak and potatoes and then your pussy for dessert. How does that sound?

  Julia: Rain check? I have to work late tonight. I just got a wave of clients, and I need to get them into the system and scheduled for interviews.

  Bram: A wave of clients? That’s exciting. Maybe it’s from my mention of you in the Times.

  Julia: Probably. Did I say thank you for that yesterday?

  Bram: Yup, the Blow Job Queen definitely said her thanks last night. *Wink emoji*

  Julia: What did I tell you about calling me that?

  Bram: Keep doing it?

  Julia: You’re impossible.

  Bram: But you love it . . .

  Julia: Unfortunately. Enjoy your steak.

  Bram: You’re still coming to my place, right?

  Julia: I’ll let you know. *heart emoji*

  * * *

  Bram: I stopped by your office but you weren’t there.

  Julia: Yeah, I’m downtown right now, interviewing a client.

  Bram: I thought you only did interviews in your office?

  Julia: It’s the lady from the Times. I made an exception. Figured she was a good one to impress.

  Bram: Smart thinking, although, I feel a little cheated on. I thought out-of-office interviews were our thing.

  Julia: Fucking up against your bedroom wall is our thing.

  Bram: Christ, woman, now I’m hard. I think I need another office interview, you know, a “where are you now?” type thing. Quick, come to my office, naked . . .

  Julia: Do you really think that’s going to work?

  Bram: Maybe? *shrugs emoji*

  Julia: It’s not.

  Bram: A guy’s got to try. So will I see you tonight?

  Julia: Not sure. Sorry about last night. I didn’t leave the office until late, and I didn�
�t want to disturb you.

  Bram: Jules, your presence is never a disturbance.

  Julia: You’re going to make me swoon.

  Bram: Well, hold on to a handle because what I’m about to say might give you the whole swoon effect. Are you ready?

  Julia: Ready.

  Bram: I miss you, babe.

  Julia: You’re good, Bram. You’re really good.

  Bram: I mean every single word of it.

  Julia: I miss you too.

  * * *

  Bram: Send me a selfie. I can’t remember what you look like.

  Julia: Ugh, I’m sorry.

  Bram: Two days, babe. It’s been two days. You can’t do this to me after seeing you every damn day. I need my Julia fix.

  Julia: I know. I’m going to squeeze out early tonight. I’m exhausted.

  Bram: Do I need to come to your office and take you away myself? Hell, just to feel your arms wrapped around me would make me happy.

  Julia: I’m going to try my hardest, I promise.

  Bram: I don’t care if you’re done at midnight, please come to my place after. I’ll have my driver waiting for you. I promise, all I’ll do is snuggle you, okay?

  Julia: You’re starting to sound desperate.

  Bram: I am fucking desperate. I need to hold you.

  Julia: Ugh, I miss you. Okay, I’ll come over tonight, even if it’s really late.

  Bram: I’m holding you to that.

  Julia: I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.

  * * *

  Knock. Knock.

  Through blurry eyes, I look toward my office door to find Bram leaning against the doorframe, a bag in hand and a worried look on his face.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t wait until later.” He walks into my office and rounds my desk where he sets down the bag of food and swivels my chair toward him. “You need to take a break. You’re going to drive yourself crazy.”

  “I need to make these matches. Ever since you mentioned my business in that Times article, I haven’t been able to rest. I mean, thank you for the mention, but I had no idea my workload was going to be this crazy.”

  “Which is why you need to take a break, or let your boyfriend help you hire a few people so I get to spend more time with you.” He lifts me from my chair and wraps his arms around me. “If I knew mentioning you would take you away, I’d have kept you my little secret.”

  I snuggle into his warmth and fresh scent, letting my brain shut off for a moment as I enjoy the kind of comfort only Bram can provide.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been missing lately.”

  “Don’t apologize. Never apologize for wanting to expand your business and grow it. Believe me, I know what it takes to bring a small business to another level. I just wanted to see your pretty face in person and make sure you’re eating.”

  “I haven’t eaten all day, so whatever is in that bag is going to be devoured.”

  “Then let’s eat.”

  I cringe and try to turn my head away, but he catches me. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have a client coming soon, in about five minutes actually.”

  “Damn it,” he mutters and lets out a long sigh. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll have to take what I can get.” He leans down to kiss me just as my phone buzzes.

  “Miss Westin, Gary Fontane is here to see you.”

  With a defeated breath, Bram takes a step back from me while I respond to Anita. “Be right there.” I turn back to Bram and give him my most apologetic face. “I’m so sorry.”

  “What did I say about apologizing?” He tips my chin. “I’ll see you tonight, right?”

  I nod. “See you tonight.”

  With a parting kiss, I walk Bram out to the lobby of my office and greet Mr. Fontane with a welcoming smile, despite how tired I am.

  * * *

  “Here are those results you were looking for,” Anita says, walking into my office. It’s past five and I feel bad that I’ve kept her late again, but she told me she doesn’t mind. Little does she know, she’ll be getting a bonus once the influx of new customers calms down.

  I perk up and reach for the file.

  Want to know a secret? Right before all these new customers started coming in, I decided to take the test for myself. I wanted to surprise Bram, show him that even though we might be completely different, we were still very much meant for each other.

  After he gave me the BJ necklace—well, the JB necklace now—I wanted to do something nice for him, and since he’s rich beyond belief, I thought doing something more meaningful for him could erase all doubt in his mind.

  I will admit, the questions were annoying. I feel bad for my clients, but I tried to answer them the best I could, without skewing my thoughts. I went with my first instinct answer.

  I’m acquainted with my personality well enough to know I’m not an orange, which would be Bram’s mutual dating hue, but I also know I could possibly fall in line with a yellow, which could also be matched up with a red on the rarest of occasions. And Bram is a rare red.

  But my biggest fear—something I dreaded about these results—would be finding out that we’re not a match at all.

  Sounds ridiculous right? To base my entire love life off something so simple like dating results, but I have a ninety-nine percent success rate. I know what I’m doing, these results don’t lie, and it’s why matching up with Bram would mean so much to him . . . and me.

  “Thank you, Anita. Did you hear back from Helen Finkle?”

  “Yup, she’s finishing her test today.”

  “Good, I really think Mr. Gladstone would be a perfect match from talking with them, but I want their results in before I think about matching them.”

  “I’ve worked with you for a while now, and I feel like I can sense when two people would match up, and I think you’re right. There is something about Ms. Finkle and Mr. Gladstone that scream couple.”

  “It’s the noses, isn’t it?”

  Anita giggles and nods. “I don’t know why that makes sense, but it does.”

  “Well, we shall see. I’m just going to finish up a few things, so you can head out.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I push my hair out of my face. “Positive. You’ve worked enough this week, so get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, have a good night.”

  “You too.” I give her a quick wave.

  I spend my time answering a few more emails before I hear Anita leave for home. Once I feel the coast is clear, after looking down the hallway of course, I run to my desk and grab the file. A little nervous, I consider not taking a look at them but then think otherwise. If I went through that test, I want to know the results.

  Just as I’m about to flip them open, my phone vibrates on my desk.

  Clarissa.

  Smiling, I answer the phone. “Hey there.”

  “Well, well, well, you finally answer my phone call. You act like you’re in an all-consuming relationship or something.”

  I chuckle and lean back in my chair. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been a good friend lately, have I?”

  “It’s okay, as long as all your time has been consumed by sex. Please tell me it has.”

  “Well, a week ago, that’s what I would have told you, but ever since Bram mentioned me in the Times, I’ve been spending late nights at the office, trying to keep up with all the requests to join the program.”

  “Seriously? That’s phenomenal. Does this mean you’re going to have to hire some more people?”

  “I put out a job search yesterday. I hired a headhunter, because I don’t want random résumés being thrown my way. I want someone who truly knows what they’re doing.”

  “Smart. You’re going to have to train this person no matter what, so hiring someone competent will aid you in that endeavor.”

  “No one will ever be more competent than Anita.” I flip open the file casually.

  “That’s because she’s worked with you forever. She’s your number on
e.”

  “Always will be. She was telling me the other day—” I pause mid-sentence, my eyes narrowing in on one word. One color.

  Green.

  That can’t be right.

  I lean forward and blink a few times. Green, that says green. I’m not making that up in my head. It really says green on the paper.

  “Hey, you there?” Clarissa asks, her voice growing concerned. “You kind of stopped talking all of a sudden.”

  “Green,” I mutter, still shocked.

  “Green? What’s green?”

  “I’m green.”

  “Are you feeling nauseous?”

  “No . . . my dating hue, it’s green.”

  “Wait?” Clarissa pauses, “You took the test?”

  “Yeah, and I’m green.”

  “Well, I mean, that makes sense. I could have easily pinned you as a green. You’re careful, meticulous, a leader, but you also have a beautifully sweet and caring heart with—”

  “Clarissa, that’s not the point.” I can feel myself fall over the brink of insanity as my mind whirls. “What matches up with green?”

  “Blue. What’s the . . . oh no.”

  “Yeah. Bram is a red. A freaking RED.” I drag my hand over my face. “The only time green and red ever go together is during Christmas, and even during Christmas some people don’t like green and red together and they go with a classy blue and silver.”

  “Christmas is a magical time of the year, you could think of it that way. Your relationship is magical.”

  “That’s not helping. You and I both know our relationship is anything but magical. We’re doomed. There is no longevity to our relationship. Yeah, it might be great now, but our hues don’t match, they don’t mix well, and therefore, we’re bound to implode. Oh God, what was I thinking?” Heart heavy, I lean back in my chair and clutch my hand to my forehead, trying to comprehend this massive blow to the happy bubble I was living in. “What the hell am I going to do?”

  “What do you mean?”