Don't Need You: A Brother's Best Friend Romance (We Shouldn't Book 3)

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Don't Need You: A Brother's Best Friend Romance (We Shouldn't Book 3) Page 4

by Lilian Monroe

Family.

  I’ve always wanted one. I always thought I’d be the first of my friends to settle down. I thought I’d have a good woman and a couple of kids by now.

  I mean, sure, I started a skydiving business with Finn. Unconventional, maybe. But surprisingly stable, with no shortage of women passing through our doors.

  Finn had his pick of them, and I won’t say I was entirely chaste, but any romance always fizzled right after it sparked. I’ve never really had someone I care about. Besides, everyone always leaves, you know? They break my trust, to the point that I find it hard to get close to anyone at all.

  I thought I had Finn and Esme, but now I feel totally alone.

  My head is a mess, basically. I want a family, but can’t trust anyone enough to work toward it. I guess part of me is jealous that Finn and Esme found each other. They never even wanted the big family. Finn would laugh when I talked about settling down.

  Yet, he’s the one who meets his soul mate, not me.

  “Robbie tells me you’ve been flying planes for years, but you only started flying commercial a few months ago,” a woman about my age says.

  “Sounds like Robbie has told you guys a lot about me.” I laugh to hide my embarrassment. I knew he had a big family, and he told me he had sisters, but I never even knew their names.

  “When he said he’d bring you here for Thanksgiving, I was over the moon,” his mother says, swapping my near-empty beer bottle for a fresh one. “It’s good to meet the man sitting beside him when he’s in the air.”

  “What’s harder, the commercial flights or the skydiving ones?” a brother-in-law asks, leaning toward me.

  I glance at Robbie, who grins. Shrugging, I decide to tell the truth. “Honestly? The commercial flights are harder. There’s so much more procedure and red tape, and they end up being pretty boring.”

  “Who are you calling boring?” Robbie asks in mock outrage.

  Laughter fills the room, and I settle into my seat. I let a smile tug at my lips, almost forgetting the effect Serena had on me when she walked into the room.

  Almost.

  I’m reminded of it when she runs back in, holding a kid under each arm like a couple of footballs, yelling as she crosses the living room and runs out through the front door.

  No one even blinks.

  But yeah, I’m sure she’s a tidy and respectful roommate. This is all going to be fine, and everything will turn out great.

  Robbie catches me looking, a sly smile twitching over his lips. He shrugs, turning to talk to the older man beside him. His grandmother appears in the doorway to the kitchen, and everyone is ushered into the dining room.

  By the time dinner is over, I feel simultaneously elated and exhausted. I follow Robbie to the front door and start the whole greeting process in reverse. Every family member needs to say goodbye to every other family member, and we end up standing in the doorway for another twenty minutes.

  Serena is nowhere to be seen.

  When we finally extricate ourselves from the family, I let out a long breath.

  “How was that?” Robbie laughs.

  “It was good. Your family is intense.”

  “There are a lot of us. Just wait until tomorrow.” He grins as we walk to his car. I can hear the rest of the family saying goodbye to each other behind us, and I’m glad that soon, I’ll be somewhere quieter. My ears are ringing from all the laughter and noise.

  But just as we get to the car, Serena jogs over to us. “Robbie!”

  He turns toward his twin sister, arching an eyebrow.

  Serena comes to a stop next to the car. “Can I get a lift?” Her eyes stay steady on Robbie’s, and they exchange a loaded look. A moment later, it’s gone. What was that about?

  Robbie jerks his chin toward the car. “Sure. Get in.”

  My heart thumps. Serena still has a dirt stain on her jeans, and I’m pretty sure that’s a twig in her hair. But her eyes shine, and she gives me a conspiratorial smile. My gut clenches.

  I shouldn’t be attracted to her. I shouldn’t be thinking this way at all. I shouldn’t even be registering that she’s a woman. She should just be a vague, amorphous form with the word OFF-LIMITS branded all over it.

  She’s Robbie’s twin sister. She’s going to be crashing at my place for a while.

  That’s all.

  Haven’t I been mad at Finn for months for pursuing my little sister? How could I even consider turning around and doing the same thing to Robbie?

  I get into the passenger seat, grateful I don’t have to sit next to her. As she slides in behind me, I catch a whiff of a sweet, delicate scent. I almost groan.

  Robbie starts the car and glances at his sister in the back seat. “Ready?”

  “Yeah. Hey, while you’re here, would you mind coming up to my apartment and helping me pack up some heavier things? I’m heading to the storage locker in the morning before going back to Mom’s place. Maybe we could do a run over there tonight, if you have time.”

  Robbie nods and looks over at me. “Do you mind?”

  “I can see you guys are related. You love springing favors on people when they can’t say no.”

  I glance at the back seat. Serena throws me a dirty look, and I lap it up like a man starved. Robbie just laughs and puts the car in gear. I lean my head against the headrest, trying to control the banging of my heart. Even when I can’t see Serena, I can sense her. I can feel her breathing in the seat behind me. Her scent tickles the edge of my nose, and my body heats up a couple of degrees.

  As much as I try to deny it, she’s not just my friend’s sister. She’s not just someone I’ll let crash at my place for a few weeks. She’s not an amorphous form or an asexual being.

  Serena Russo is gorgeous, and she’s about to turn my life upside down.

  When we get to a boxy, brown brick apartment building, Robbie stiffens beside me. I follow his gaze to see a man near the entrance. He’s wearing a hood, but he glances at us long enough for me to see dark hair and an ugly snarl.

  “Take Serena upstairs,” he breathes, reaching for the door.

  Before I can ask what’s going on, Robbie’s outside. The man at the door takes off at a sprint, shoes slapping on the pavement with every step. Robbie doesn’t hesitate. He chases after the man, his arms pumping as he bolts down the street.

  I get out of the car, calling after them. “Hey! Robbie!”

  A hand appears in the crook of my elbow, ice-cold and rippling with tension. I turn to see concern etched on Serena’s beautiful face. I don’t even notice the twigs or the grass stains, because there’s jet-black terror in her eyes.

  “Let’s go inside,” she says, her voice small.

  A protective instinct overwhelms me. It rises up without warning, engulfing me from head to toe. I put my hand on Serena’s lower back, guiding her up the few steps to the apartment lobby door. In the recesses of my mind, I register how good it feels to touch her. How right it feels to have her beside me.

  Up front, though, screaming in my brain, is the need to protect her. As she unlocks the door, I glance over my shoulder. Both Robbie and the man have disappeared.

  Serena trembles, dropping her keys on the concrete steps. I bend over to pick them up.

  “Let me help you,” I say.

  Her eyes drag up to mine. Her throat tightens as she gulps, and her big, brown eyes twinkle in the low light. She nods to the keys. “It’s the silver one.”

  I find the right key and slide it into the lock, pulling the door open for Serena. When we’re inside, I make sure the door is closed before following Serena to the stairs and climbing up two flights. She’s still shaking, and all I want to do is wrap my arms around her.

  Handing Serena’s keys back to her, our fingers brush. Heat sparks deep in my stomach, and I try to shake it away.

  I can’t, though. Even when I know it’s inappropriate. When she’s scared. When being attracted to her is fifty shades of wrong, I can’t stop the way I feel.

  Once we�
�re safe inside, Serena lets out a long breath. I stand by the door, watching as she combs her fingers through her hair, finding that little twig nestled in her thick curls. She pulls it out, dropping her shoulders as she stares at it.

  Finally, I speak. “Who was that?”

  Serena drags her eyes to meet mine. Her lips pinch, and she shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it. You want a drink? Water? Coffee?”

  I don’t want to let her change the subject, but I know it’s not my place to pry. How can I explain that all I want to do is wrap my arms around her? How can I show her that, even though I have no right to, I care?

  But Serena turns her back to me, her slight shoulders rounding as she hugs her arms to her chest.

  My heart twinges, and I know things are about to get a lot more complicated.

  4

  Serena

  All I want to do is turn around and run into Kit’s embrace. I want to feel that warm hand on my lower back again. Those strong arms wrapped around me. I want to bury my face in his chest and let my tears soak his shirt.

  But what kind of person does that make me?

  I run away from one man and into the arms of another. I don’t even know Kit. I don’t know if he’s the same as Angelo. If he’d show up on my doorstep and wait for me to come home. If he’d break things whenever he was angry. If he’d cheat on me and make me feel worthless, and blame me when things went wrong.

  Somehow, I doubt it.

  Kit has a soothing energy. It swirls around him like a magnetic field, reaching out toward me with warm, comforting tendrils. Even standing beside him, I feel stronger than when I’m alone. Glancing over my shoulder, I see him watching.

  “It’s nothing, Kit. I promise.”

  “You mean your brother took off running down the street for no reason? Chased some guy who was slinking around your front step? That’s nothing?”

  His eyes search mine, and I have to look away. My hands shake as I head to the kitchen and try to pour myself a glass of water. I have to lean against the counter, dropping my head into my chest.

  I won’t cry. I won’t.

  I’m done crying for Angelo. I don’t want to feel unsafe anymore.

  All I want is a life. A future. I want to be able to lock my door and know no one will be able to open it up again.

  I sense Kit in the kitchen doorway, but I don’t move. His steps are silent on the old linoleum, and I don’t have the courage to face him.

  But then, his hand slides over my back. It’s warm. Comforting. Inviting.

  Almost instinctively, I turn toward Kit and melt into his arms. He wraps them around me, holding me close. I cling to his shirt, letting silent tears soak the fabric.

  And he just holds me.

  He doesn’t ask any more questions. He doesn’t pry. He just wraps those strong, comforting arms around me and makes me feel safe. His hand slides up my back and rests against the back of my head. When he strokes my hair, I let out a long sigh.

  When was the last time I felt safe in a man’s arms?

  My heart thuds, and an unfamiliar feeling curls in the pit of my stomach. Kit’s hand splays over my back as he pulls me closer, his lips resting near my forehead. The feeling in my stomach blooms, spreading through my core and down between my thighs.

  Heat.

  Delicious, comforting, and a little bit spicy. It thaws the icicles that cling to my insides. It curls in lazy circles, wrapping its way along my chest and over my limbs. I sigh into Kit’s chest, already addicted to the feeling of his arms around me.

  I’m warm. My fingers tighten into his shirt, pulling him close as I try to suck up every bit of warmth he has to give. I want to crack myself open and let it pour into me. I want to chase away the chill that’s clung to my marrow for ten years. I want his heat. His fire. His blaze.

  I want this feeling everywhere, all the time. More, more, more. With every second that passes, another chill is banished from my body. My toes feel warm for the first time in years.

  My breath catches as I inhale his scent, another bit of my frigid body thawing at his touch. His hand splays over my back and my whole body trembles. Kit doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t ask questions. He just gives. He gives me his warmth and his safety, holding me against his chest until I forget what it’s like to feel cold.

  As Kit’s hands curl into my hair, I have to pull away.

  My body rages. It roils. Blood pumps through my veins as a fire burns between my legs. I wipe my eyes, ducking my head away.

  “Thanks,” I rasp, not daring to look at him.

  What kind of person am I? One touch from a man, and I’m putty in his hands.

  No wonder Angelo had such control over me. I can’t even resist the touch of a guy I met a few hours ago. What chance do I have in the world on my own?

  My eyes are drawn to Kit’s body, and I wonder if he felt it too. The electricity. The energy. The pure hotness burning at the apex of my thighs.

  The lock on my front door turns, and Robbie calls out into the living room. “Serena?”

  “In here,” I say as Kit takes a step back from me. He clears his throat, running his fingers through his hair and turning toward the kitchen entrance. I catch him adjusting the waistband of his jeans, and I wonder if it’s because of me.

  Robbie appears in the doorway, his eyes flicking between us. “You okay?”

  I nod. “Fine. Did you catch him?”

  Robbie’s lips turn down and he shakes his head. “Fucker got away.” He lets out a long breath and finally jerks his chin toward the bedroom. “Get some stuff. You’ll sleep at my place tonight.”

  I don’t have the energy to protest, so I let out a breath and nod. “Okay.”

  I’d planned on doing more packing tonight, and I wanted Robbie to help me bring some boxes to a storage locker. I’m not leaving for six weeks, but I want to get a head start. Now, though, I feel weak and small and afraid. All I want to do is curl up in a ball, retreat into my shell, and never poke my head out again.

  And, I realize, I want Kit’s arms around me again. I want to melt the ice inside me and watch it puddle at my feet.

  Shaking the thought away, I stuff some clothing into a backpack. I grab my toothbrush, toiletries, and let my hands hover over my perfume and makeup bag.

  I don’t need them for a night or two at my twin brother’s house.

  Still, I put the items in my bag. A part of me doesn’t want to look like a mess when I wake up in the morning. Glancing in the mirror, I wipe my face where my mascara smudged and swipe some lip gloss on.

  My insecurities try to scream at me. They try to tell me it’s pathetic, wanting to look good for a guy I just met. Whore, Angelo’s voice echoes in my brain.

  I shove it down and ignore them, choosing instead to run my fingers through my hair and tie it up in a messy bun, as if to spite my own weakness. Kit’s warmth still snakes in my belly, and I focus on the sensation as I make myself look presentable.

  When I’m ready, I join the boys in the living room. Robbie’s expression is murderous, and Kit looks on edge. I’m sorry to have dragged him into my mess, and even more sorry to impose on him. I’m basically ruining his Thanksgiving and inviting myself over to live at his house.

  Still, when his eyes meet mine, Kit’s face softens. My heart grows, and I wonder if maybe he doesn’t mind that I’ll be staying with him.

  Robbie nods, and the three of us head back to the car. When we get downstairs, Robbie and Kit scan the street like two members of the Secret Service. Kit opens the passenger door for me and I almost refuse, but his face is impassive. I slide into the front seat and watch him fold his long legs into the back, comforted by his closeness.

  My brother gets in the driver’s seat, but I hardly notice. It’s like every sense is zeroed in on Kit. I can feel him shift his weight behind me. I can sense his breath. His heartbeat.

  Then, gently, his hand slides between the door and my seat and he puts a finger on my hip. I lean back into the chair, clo
sing my eyes and enjoying his touch. Just one finger on my hip has the power to calm my racing heart. It makes me feel safe. Protected.

  It sends a current of warmth flowing through my veins, like my blood is thrumming happily at his closeness. My cheeks flush as I let out a sigh, and Kit’s finger curls against my flesh.

  Robbie can’t see it, and I’m glad. He glances over at me, nodding, then we drive to his house in silence.

  Kit’s finger stays on my hip, and I long to lay my hand over his. I want to crawl onto his lap and wrap my arms around his neck, feeling the raw power and safety that exists in his embrace.

  But when we get to Robbie’s house, Kit pulls his hand away, and I know the moment is over. It has to be. Kit and I will be roommates. He’s doing Robbie a favor. He probably feels sorry for me. Who wouldn’t?

  When we exit the car, he doesn’t meet my eye. His cheeks look pink, but I can’t be sure. I watch him run his fingers through his hair again, the movement making his shirt ride up. A strip of skin is exposed at his waist, and I catch myself staring.

  Fire licks my stomach as my veins fill with red embers, and I want more. His taut, hard stomach is begging for my hands. My tongue. My touch. I want to follow the little trail of hair between his navel and his cock, and discover the treasures that lie between his legs.

  More.

  Shaking my head, I clear my throat. I force a smile at Robbie and try to banish my treacherous thoughts.

  It’s just the emotion. My nerves are frayed. I’m on edge. It has nothing to do with Kit’s body, or the way it felt to be in his arms.

  We head inside, and I force myself to keep my eyes to myself. Robbie stands close to me. Protective.

  But it’s not my brother I want near me—it’s Kit. As I drop my bag near the front door, I steal one more glance at my brother’s friend.

  Off-limits. Forbidden. One thousand levels of wrong.

  And I’m already hooked.

  5

  Kit

  I let Serena take the spare bedroom as Robbie hands me a stack of sheets to spread over the couch. Once my makeshift bed is made, I put my hands on my hips and let out a shallow sigh.

 

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