My Brother's Best Friend: A Last Chance Romance (Soulmates Series Book 6)

by Hazel Kelly

  “This can’t happen,” I said, savoring the feel of her delicate skin as I curled my fingers into a tight fist.

  “Anything can happen, Landon. I won’t ask you to stop. I promise. And I won’t tell a soul.”

  I stared at her lips, growing hard at the thought of all the places I longed to see them. “I’m flattered,” I said, lifting her leg off my lap and lowering it gently beside me. “But you’re a beautiful girl, Margot. You shouldn’t just give yourself to anyone.” I wished I had chosen different words, wished I hadn’t assumed she intended to give herself to me. But what else could I think? She said she wouldn’t stop me, and I knew my desire for her would not be easily sated.

  “Landon.”

  I could hear the hurt in her voice as it cracked when she said my name, and knowing her pain was all my fault made me feel sick.

  She sat forward, and her eyes filled with confusion. “I don’t want to give myself to just anyone. I want to give myself to you. No one else.”

  It was music to my ears, yet it didn’t make me happy. It only made me ache. And worry. How long might those words haunt me? How much sleep would I lose over the fact that I hadn’t said yes? Oh, just to see her face if I said yes…

  She gripped her knees and cast her eyes down to the bulge in my pants, causing it to strain against the zipper of my jeans. “You want me back,” she said, lifting her eyes again. “I know you do.”

  I lifted a hand and dragged my thumb across her bottom lip, crushing it slowly like I wanted to do with my mouth so bad, the warmth of her breath tumbling over my knuckles.

  Her eyes filled with a shiny hopefulness that made my insides shatter.

  I leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, right across her hairline, holding my lips there until my nose filled with the scent of her strawberry shampoo.

  When I leaned back, she looked like she was going to cry.

  “Let’s see how you feel in a few years, okay?”

  She looked up and tried to blink back her tears.

  I opened my mouth, convinced I needed to say something to comfort her further, but I closed it again when no helpful words moved to the fore.

  “Hey, Landon,” Matt called from the top of the stairs. “My mom wants to know if you’re staying for dinner.”

  “I can’t tonight,” I called, my eyes still on Margot’s. Then I lowered my voice and said it again, hoping she might hear me better. “I can’t tonight.”

  T W E N T Y T W O

  - Landon -

  It killed me to treat her like that, especially when she was so excited to tell me her good news.

  She probably expected me to hug her, kiss her smiling cheeks, and spin her around my office, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t act like everything was okay. Because it wasn’t. So I was a dick.

  But what choice did I have?

  Not only could I lose my job if I acted further on my feelings for her, a job I’d invested everything in since I graduated, but I could lose my family, too. After all, Matt Robert’s parents helped raise me, and he was the closest thing I had to a brother.

  …Which made Margot the sister I’d always wanted for all the wrong reasons.

  And I still wanted her. I just wasn’t sure how to proceed when the thought of her family viewing me as a wolf in sheep’s clothing was so difficult to stomach.

  I knew it was unfair to send the mixed signals she so rightly accused me of. But when I sent those strawberries and told her I wanted to take her out, I thought I’d be able to pace myself and proceed with caution, on my own terms.

  So the Christophe shit really threw me. The realization that Matt could’ve found out about us before I’d even considered how I might tell him made me feel physically ill.

  Therefore, until I dealt with Christophe’s unneighborly interference, I had to hit the brakes with Margot.

  Because if things didn’t work out, sure, she’d lose me. But I’d lose everything from my family to my career to my self-respect.

  I banged on Christophe’s door as soon as he answered my text saying he was home.

  When he opened it, he had a bronzed glow about him and a face so smug it wasn’t even worth asking if his trip to the Outer Banks had been a success.

  “What’s up, man?” he asked, stepping back so I could come inside. His duffel bag was still closed at the end of the counter, and between the tropical-print shirt on his back and the screwdriver in his hand, it seemed safe to assume he was still in vacation mode.

  “Where the fuck do you get off?!” I asked. “Why the hell would you tell Matt I was seeing someone when you knew damn well that Margot was his little sister?”

  He swung the door shut behind me and walked over to his wraparound couch. Unlike me, he’d shelled out for fancy furnishings despite the hassle of hoisting them four hundred feet off the ground.

  “Calm down,” he said, extending his glass towards the vodka on the counter. “Make yourself a drink.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “I will,” I said, walking over to join him on the couch. “So you better start explaining yourself because I’ve been waiting to bust your head in for days.”

  “Oh please,” he said, putting his feet up on the coffee table.

  It was only then that I noticed his slippers were monogrammed.

  “I was just trying to do you a favor.”

  “By starting shit between me and my oldest friend?”

  “I didn’t start shit,” he said. “I gave you an opportunity.”

  “To hate you?”

  “No. To reassess if fucking your best friend’s little sister is really what you want.”

  I pressed my fingertips against my temples.

  “And, obviously, my attempt to force the hard questions worked.”

  “How do you figure?”

  He took a leisurely sip of his drink. “Because when Matt asked you about it, you could only have had one of two reactions.”

  I kept my mouth shut and hoped he’d start making sense.

  “Reaction one being: I can’t believe I almost risked my friendship over this. Totally not worth it.”

  I clenched my jaw.

  “Or reaction 2 being: Oh shit. I better figure out how I’m going to break the news to him because I never want to get over this girl.”

  “Still not sure how you did me a favor.”

  He groaned like he was trying to explain something to a five-year-old. “Well, if you had reaction one, you gotta end it right now before it’s too late.”

  I kept my eyes on him.

  He leaned his neck forward. “It’s not too late, is it?”

  “That’s not your fucking business,” I said. “But no.”

  He sighed. “Okay, good, ’cause once you poke a girl with your dick, you can never unpoke her.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut.

  “But if your reaction was the latter and the stress of realizing you’ll have to tell him eventually doesn’t put you off this girl—”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Then the sooner you plant the seed in his mind that you’ve met someone special, the better.”

  “Because…?”

  He put his feet on the floor and leaned forward. “Are you really this clueless?”

  “About your particular brand of logic? I think so.”

  “Seriously, Landon. Think about it. When the day comes and you find yourself across the table from Matt getting ready to tell him you’re fucking his sister, the last thing you want is for him to think it’s something you did on a whim.”

  “Go on.”

  “Whereas if he knows you’re progressively getting serious about someone special, he’s far more likely to hear you out when the penny drops.”

  I lifted a hand and rubbed my jaw.

  “Not to mention less likely to punch you in the face.”

  “I see your point,” I said. “But it’s only a theory.”

&
nbsp; “True,” he said, setting his glass on a coaster. “But I’m a big brother myself, and if a friend of mine fell for Camille, the only thing that might console me is if I truly believed it was about love and not just sex.”

  “I suppose that makes sense.”

  “Not that anyone would dare because I’d have them castrated.”

  I swallowed.

  “But your buddy Matt seems like a more reasonable guy than me.”

  “Who isn’t?” I asked, getting up to make myself a drink.

  He laughed.

  “That being said—” I unscrewed the Grey Goose and added a neat splash to the bottom of a clean tumbler. “If you ever open your stupid mouth again, you’re going to be the one who gets punched in the face.” I tossed the shot down my throat.

  “Got it.”

  “I can take it from here.”

  “I’m sure you can,” he said. “Now that I helped you figure out where the fuck here is and where you’re hoping to end up.”

  “What do I owe you for your profound insight?” I asked sarcastically, wishing I found it easier to hate the guy.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ll put it on your tab.”

  T W E N T Y T H R E E

  - Margot -

  I don’t know why I was so surprised. Hitting the brakes was Landon’s go-to move. Every time things got a little heated between us, he’d act like our relationship was a flame he couldn’t keep his hand over and back off.

  Right when I wanted him to do the opposite.

  In the past, his behavior used to hurt my feelings, but at least I could see how it was justified.

  After all, when I was underage, his stonewalling was defensible. And after my eighteenth birthday, the timing was terrible. I was packing up to go to college, and he was making arrangements to study abroad.

  But what was his excuse for blowing me off this time? Was it work? I mean, that was a pretty good reason. It had taken him several years to earn his coveted position at the agency, and I knew he would be hesitant to do anything that might jeopardize that. Not only because it was his livelihood, but because he tended to cling to stability when he could find it.

  Even as a kid I’d picked up on that. To another Type A person, it was obvious. He appreciated schedules and routines in a way that seemed extraordinary for a teenage boy.

  But I was sick and tired of his routine when it came to us. His wary fence-sitting may have been warranted in his mind, but I could feel in my bones that it was liable to destroy me, and I didn’t want to go to my grave still waiting in vain for him to realize how much I’d always been his.

  “Should I be worried?” Izzy asked, peeking her head through my cracked bedroom door. “It’s almost noon.”

  I sighed and rolled my head towards her. “No. I’m fine.”

  “Really?”

  I tried to shrug, but since I was lying down, it didn’t quite come across.

  She opened the door and crawled onto my tiny bed, lay down beside me, and propped her head up on her hand. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Nothing is going on. That’s the problem.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “I have been enamored of Landon fucking Bishop for as long as I can remember, and I’ve been patient with him. So patient. I’m, like, practically eligible for sainthood at this point.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But every time we actually manage to step foot outside the friend zone, he hits the brakes without warning or explanation.”

  She squinted at me. “And you have no idea why?”

  I shook my head.

  “Do you think he does?”

  I furrowed my brow. “What?”

  “Do you think he knows why he does it, or do you think it’s just a pattern at this point?”

  I rolled my head to face the ceiling. “I have no idea.”

  “Can you just ignore it?”

  “What do you mean ignore it? He’s putting walls up between us.”

  “That may be,” she said. “But figurative walls only work if the person you’re trying to keep out acknowledges them.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “Have you ever been really pissed at someone you were dating—like, fuming—but they were too stupid to notice, so you realized after a while that you were wasting your energy?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well maybe that’s what this situation calls for,” she said. “Because if you back off every time he backs off, you’re only encouraging—maybe even legitimizing—his behavior.”

  “So you think I should just carry on like we’re still making progress?”

  She shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “I don’t know. My heart shatters into a million little pieces when he doesn’t return my feelings.”

  “Better a broken heart than an unused one.”

  I pressed my lips together. “Not a bad point.”

  “Thanks,” she said, her eyes smiling.

  “How will I know if it’s working?”

  “That depends on how impatient you are to interrupt this annoying pattern of his.”

  I rolled onto my side and looked up at her from my pillow. “I’m listening.”

  “Well, you could try a slow burn approach and hope he realizes you’re not interested in playing these stupid games anymore.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Or, since subtlety is lost on men 99% of the time, you could do something that would make it impossible for him to ignore how much you are not—under any circumstance—going to cool your jets.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Seduce him in some way that he won’t be able to resist?”

  “I’m not a seductress, Izzy.”

  “All women are seductresses. It’s just that too many haven’t realized it.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Fine,” she said. “But if you change your mind, you can always follow my favorite advice. Don’t—”

  “Don’t be yourself,” I said, finishing her thought. “Be whoever can get the job done.”

  “Bingo.”

  I had to admit the thought of trying to seduce Landon filled me with equal parts terror and excitement. “I don’t know the first thing about seducing someone.”

  “It’s easy,” she said. “All you do is have so much fun in front of them that they can’t help but join in.”

  I groaned and rolled onto my back again, wondering if she could actually hear the crazy coming out of her mouth.

  “It works for anything,” she said. “You can even seduce kids into eating broccoli with that approach. Or friends into bungee jumping.”

  “Or brothers’ best friends into forgetting they were trying to keep their distance?”

  “Guaranteed.”

  “What makes you so sure that would even work?” I asked.

  “Besides the fact that you already know this guy wants you back? I’m telling you, if you offer yourself up to him, he’s going to go all Garden of Eden on your ass and reach for any juicy apple you shove in his face.”

  I laughed. “You’re certifiable.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “But I’m not the one under my covers at noon touching myself and wishing my hand was someone else’s.”

  “I wasn’t touching myself.”

  “That’s even worse,” she said. “At least if you had been, it would be easier to forgive you still being in bed.”

  “Don’t torment me.”

  “As if you can put that on me. You’re the one tormenting yourself.”

  I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Now get your ass up, and I’ll take you to my favorite brunch spot. There’s nothing to eat here, and your sad story makes me want to eat my feelings.”

  “Don’t put that on me,” I said. “Dancing nine hours a day is what makes you want to eat your feelings.”

  “Fine,” she said, crawling over
me and swinging her feet back onto the floor. “But that doesn’t change the fact that Cajun home fries will sort us both out.”

  “I’m in,” I said, throwing my covers off and sitting up.

  “I’ll be ready in five,” she said, nodding her approval at my immediate progress before walking out of my room.

  I stared down at my feet and wiggled my pink-painted toes. Could they really belong to a seductress? Could that really be the best way to prove to Landon that I wasn’t going to settle for intermittent scraps of affection anymore?

  And if I somehow found the courage to give it a shot, how far would I be willing to go?

  T W E N T Y F O U R

  - Landon -

  I was determined to clear my inbox before heading home for the weekend, but two more “urgent” questions had just come through from my most billable clients.

  I sighed and loosened my tie as I opened the first email, losing my focus when I heard a knock. “Come in,” I said, lifting my eyes towards the door.

  Margot stepped in my office wearing a short trench coat. I couldn’t figure out what looked odd about it…except that I could’ve sworn she’d been wearing pants earlier.

  “Hi,” I said. “I thought everyone had gone home already.”

  “Everyone has,” she said, locking the door behind her.

  There was something in her eyes I hadn’t seen before, something intensely magnetic. “What can I do for you?”

  She walked towards me, putting one long, bare leg in front of the other. “That’s funny,” she said, bringing her hands to the coat’s thin belt as she stepped around to my side of the desk. “I was just about to ask you the same question.”

  I raised my brows and swiveled my chair towards her as she untied her coat.

  When it gaped open at the top and revealed a plunging strip of bare flesh, my whole body stood at attention.

  “But I’ll answer your question first,” she said, reaching sideways to close my laptop.

  “Okay.” My eyes traced the shadows cast by the thin panels of her jacket.

  She pulled her coat open, exposing her naked body, and sloughed it off her shoulders so it fell behind her. It hit the floor around the same time as my stomach, and my breath left my body in one sharp exhale.