His Best Friend's Older Sister

by Laura Jardine

  Now he was alone again. No one would open the door to his condo dressed in pigtails and a plaid miniskirt. No one would bake him ginger molasses cookies while wearing an apron with nothing underneath.

  No one would challenge him to be something more than a not-so-serious guy who was just looking for a good time.

  With her, sex hadn’t just been a simple, fun activity. He’d needed to figure out how to make it work for her, he’d needed to dig deeper. And she’d forced him to acknowledge and accept parts of himself that he’d always pushed aside before.

  He took a deep breath and admitted the truth.

  He was in love with Emily.

  Maybe he’d been a little in love with her for decades—it hadn’t simply been a silly crush—and that was why a relationship with another woman had never appealed to him. That was why Claire and Anika hadn’t held his interest.

  For him, it had always been Emily Branson.

  He exhaled slowly.

  Fuck.

  Love, the thing he’d thought might be impossible for him, had happened. And it wasn’t good news, because he couldn’t be with her.

  This was the way it had to be for both of them. He’d known it last night, and he knew it this morning.

  And then there was Nick. Shit. Jay suspected Emily wouldn’t be eager to tell her brother about this. Still, his friend might figure it out, and it seemed dishonest not to tell him that he’d hurt Emily. Jay felt like he owed Nick the truth.

  What a mess.

  He didn’t want to deal with it, not today. He’d go home and vegetate in front of the TV and drink beer. Enjoy his fucking single life. Enjoy not being tied down to anyone.

  Even though what he wanted, more than anything, was to be with Emily.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Love was dangerous.

  That’s what Emily Branson was realizing once more.

  She’d felt that way for so long, afraid of getting close to people. Afraid of trusting someone and getting her heart broken. Because the two people she was supposed to trust—they had disappointed her.

  But then she’d realized that love didn’t always disappoint you. Sometimes love was worth it, and she wanted it for herself.

  And now she was full of regret.

  She hadn’t set out to fall in love with Jay. She’d just wanted him to teach her how to enjoy sex, and then she’d planned to fall in love with someone else. Not him.

  The whole thing had been a terrible idea.

  Because now she was heartbroken. And terrified.

  As soon as she got home, she took off the purple dress and shoved it to the back of her closet. Then she curled up on the sofa and slept for another couple hours, exhausted from last night’s activities and her roller coaster of emotions.

  When she woke up, it was almost noon. She should probably have lunch, especially since she’d missed breakfast, but she wasn’t hungry. Even getting up from the couch seemed like too much effort.

  This was horrible.

  Emily had always been good at getting things done. She wasn’t the sort of person who procrastinated doing her laundry then struggled to find clean clothes to wear. She ate three proper meals every day. She had a cleaning schedule, and she kept to it. That cleaning schedule said she should be mopping the floors today, but she doubted that would happen.

  None of it seemed to matter anymore, and she was scared of what that might mean.

  She couldn’t help but remember what had happened to her father after the divorce. Would she fall into a deep depression, too?

  But her dad’s wife had walked out after fourteen years of marriage. Although Emily had known Jay for years, this thing between them hadn’t lasted very long. And if things started to go really badly, she’d get help. She wouldn’t let herself suffer like her father. She would not be afraid to call her doctor, or the therapist she’d seen before.

  The therapist who’d encouraged Emily to see love as something other than dangerous. Who had encouraged her to trust people.

  Well, she didn’t feel like doing that now.

  Would she ever be willing to set herself up for more disappointment and try again?

  Emily felt empty and cold and so very alone. She propped herself up on her elbow, but her arm started shaking, and she lay back down.

  She let herself mope for a few more minutes, then forced herself off the couch and went to the kitchen. She wanted sugar for lunch. Preferably chocolate, but she didn’t have any of that—how on earth was she out of chocolate—and she wasn’t up for a trip to the store.

  Instead she pulled up a recipe for cherry coconut cookies. This would give her something to do. And then she would let herself eat as many as she liked—after all, this would be both breakfast and lunch—and hopefully go to the gym later, though that seemed more unlikely than mopping.

  Emily found some peace in beating together the sugar and butter, measuring out the flour. But it was impossible to keep her mind off Jay. Impossible not to imagine him coming up behind her and putting his arms around her and distracting her. And she was wearing the damn cherry apron once more.

  She tore it off and threw it on the floor. It was satisfying to just toss something on the floor, but then she remembered stripping off her clothes in the hotel room yesterday … and besides, she couldn’t stand having a messy kitchen.

  She hung up the apron and managed to finish making the cookies without spilling anything on herself. Once the cookies were in the oven, she searched for alcohol. All she could find was a bottle of red wine, which Tara had brought when she’d come over for brunch.

  Oh, God. That brunch. Everything reminded her of Jay right now.

  She pulled out the cork and debated drinking straight from the bottle.

  No. She wouldn’t let herself sink that low. She poured it into a glass like a proper person.

  Emily was about to flop down on the couch to wait for the cookies to bake when there was a knock at the door.

  It was Liz.

  “That’s a lot of wine for noon on a Sunday.” Liz nodded at the glass in Emily’s hand. “What happened?”

  “I told him.” Emily started choking up. “That I want us to date for real, not just sleep together. He said no, and…”

  And now she was a sobbing mess.

  Liz hugged her. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m thirty-one, and this is the first time I’ve ever been heartbroken. I’m not dealing with it well.”

  “I think you’re dealing with it just fine. Wine? That’s pretty much obligatory. And something sure smells good in here.”

  “I’m baking cookies. For my lunch.”

  “I guess that’s your equivalent of eating ice cream out of the carton. Even when you’re upset, you feel the need to be productive. I love it.”

  Emily sniffed. “You can leave. It’s okay. I’m no fun today.”

  Liz shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere. You shouldn’t be alone right now. You need a friend. All I require is a glass of wine and a couple of cookies.”

  Emily walked to the couch and set down her wine. And then she put her head in her hands and cried even harder.

  She had a friend. She didn’t have to do this alone. It wasn’t like she was twelve and looking after her brothers all by herself and feeling like there was no one she could go to.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re always the one who’s helping me and giving me advice, never the other way around.”

  Liz waved this off. She took a seat beside Emily. “Doesn’t feel like that to me. And if I needed you, I’m sure you would be there.”

  “Of course I would.”

  “So don’t worry about it. Plus, I like having a distraction from my life. Better than thinking about that stupid boy who dumped my ass in the spring. We were living together. The ad I answered, two grad students looking for a roommate? It was the first thing I could find, the day we broke up. But it worked out okay.”

  The oven timer buzzed.

  “
Those are the cookies,” Emily said with zero enthusiasm.

  “I’ll get them.” Liz jumped up. “And pour myself some wine while I’m at it. Do you just put the baking sheet on a pot holder to cool? Or do you remove the cookies and put them on a rack? I’ve never done this before.”

  “The second one. The rack’s in the cupboard beside the oven.”

  Liz came back a few minutes later with her wine. “So what exactly did he say? I’m surprised. It sounded like he was really into you.”

  “He insisted he doesn’t do relationships.”

  “I hate when men say that.”

  Emily had a sip of wine. “After he rejected me, I freaked out, feeling like no one would ever love me. Overly dramatic, I know. We ended up spending the night together because he wanted to prove to me that I was desirable.”

  “Right after shooting you down.”

  “Yeah.” Emily paused. “You know when I was looking for a dress to wear to Nick’s wedding, and I refused to wear anything that showed cleavage?”

  Liz nodded. “I couldn’t figure it out, since the backless dress seemed more risqué.”

  “The skin on my chest is awful. Acne, scarring. A large birthmark. But Jay made me feel okay about it. Comfortable with who I am and how I look. Although he claims he doesn’t want a relationship, he cares for me. I’m still half-convinced there’s something there, and he’s just being stubborn.”

  It was nice to just be able to talk, without much thought as to what was coming out of her mouth. She wasn’t putting on an act, pretending she had it all together. Not when she was glugging wine like this.

  Emily got up and put half of the cookies on a plate. She took a picture of them on the kitchen island, along with her glass of wine, which she topped up.

  “I can’t believe you’re bothering to make food pretty at a time like this,” Liz said. “When my ex and I broke up, I don’t think I even used a plate for a week. I ate everything out of the package.”

  “Well, that’s just the way I am.” She brought the cookies over to the coffee table.

  “This man’s an idiot.” Liz picked up a cookie and had a bite. “Oh, my God. The man is definitely an idiot for giving up a woman who can bake like you. And it goes so perfectly with the cherry notes in the red wine.”

  “There are cherry notes in the wine?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just making shit up.”

  Despite her misery, Emily laughed.

  ****

  I can do this, Emily told herself as she knocked on the door.

  I can do this. She hugged her father and her stepmother, Maria.

  Every few weeks, Emily and her brothers had dinner at her father’s house. Not her childhood home—her father had moved when he’d married Maria.

  Only one of her stepsisters, Taylor, was there today. Kayla had a summer job tree planting up north. Taylor was doing research for one of her biology profs at the university. Emily asked her how studying for the MCATs was going.

  But she felt distant. Not fully present.

  It had been one week since she’d kissed Jay on the forehead and left the hotel room. One week since she’d eaten cookies and drunk wine for lunch with Liz.

  It had not been a good week.

  She’d gotten through the worst of it, though, and she would survive. She doubted she would get clinically depressed.

  Emily wasn’t upset at her father for getting sick. But if only he’d reached out. If only he’d bothered to tell someone, perhaps his sister, or gone to the doctor on his own. That’s what had made her angry afterward. That it had taken Jay telling his parents for anything to happen. She understood it was hard to do anything when you were in that state, but still.

  For years she’d tiptoed around her father, afraid he would slip back into depression. But in her second year of university, she’d yelled at him for not getting help, and he hadn’t argued. He’d told her she was right. He should have done something, shouldn’t have let his children suffer.

  He still apologized for it sometimes.

  “Are you okay, Emily?” he asked now, coming into the living room with tortilla chips and salsa. “You seem a little flat today.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, trying not to make her perkiness sound artificial. Once her father had returned to the kitchen, she turned to Taylor. “How’s Kayla? How many trees are they expected to plant each day?”

  The idea of tree planting appealed to Emily right now. Hard physical labor that would leave her so tired she wouldn’t be able to think about Jay.

  Ryan arrived a few minutes later, after closing up the bakery for the day. He looked happy, smiling even though he worked long hours. But he was doing what he wanted. She was proud of him.

  I can do this. I can do this.

  She would get over her heartbreak, and she would find someone else. Try out some dating websites. Put herself out there. Go out and have fun, and hopefully meet someone at the same time.

  She was scared of getting hurt again. Scared of opening up to someone. But she didn’t regret it anymore. Ultimately, love was worth it. Nick and Diana had shown her that, and Jay had shown her that, too. When they were together … it was like nothing else.

  Yes, love was dangerous. But it was worth the risk.

  Nick and Diana were a little late.

  “Traffic was bad,” Nick said.

  That was always a good excuse in Toronto, because traffic often was bad.

  But Emily didn’t think it was the truth. Diana looked flushed and happy, and they kept putting their hands on each other.

  She did not want to think about her brother having sex any more than he wanted to think about her sleeping with his friend.

  Nick helped himself to some tortilla chips, and then he eyed Emily.

  “What the hell did he do to you?” he demanded.

  Everyone in the room—Taylor and Ryan and Diana and Emily—stared at him.

  Her father came back out. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m fine,” Emily said, yet again.

  “You pretend to be strong,” Nick said, “but I know you’re not fine.”

  When she was twelve, struggling to keep their household together, she’d tried not to show how much it was getting to her. She’d wanted her brothers to think things were okay, even though they really weren’t. Wanted them to feel that they could always depend on her, that she wasn’t on the verge of losing it all the time.

  She’d been like that ever since. Always putting on a brave face.

  Apparently, she wasn’t doing a very convincing job of it today.

  “You’re pale,” Nick said. “Your hand is shaking. I know it has something to do with him.”

  “Who?” Ryan asked.

  Emily scrubbed her hands over her face. She didn’t want to be the source of any problems between Nick and Jay.

  Nick had become withdrawn after their mom left. And then one day, he’d asked if he could have his friend over, and Emily had been delighted by how normal Nick had seemed when Jay was around.

  That was nearly twenty years ago. She did not want to screw up that friendship.

  Jay wasn’t a bad person. He just didn’t want to be her boyfriend. Claimed he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy.

  She considered telling him he was an idiot. But what difference would that make? Wouldn’t he have been willing to give it a chance if she was the right woman? She just had to accept she wasn’t that woman.

  She would move on when she was ready.

  Unfortunately, she suspected it would be a while before she felt ready.

  “Who?” her father echoed. “What happened?”

  “Jay.” Nick’s eyes were still on Emily. “I saw them together, and he assured me that he wouldn’t hurt Emily, but clearly that’s not true.”

  “Please don’t be mad at him,” she said. “Sometimes things don’t work out how we want them to, okay? I’m just a little tired today. It’s no big deal.”

  She could see the anger pulsing
through Nick. It was hopeless to tell him not to be mad.

  “Was he your boyfriend?” her father asked. “How come I didn’t hear about this before?”

  Emily shook her head. “No, he wasn’t my boyfriend. We were just, well…”

  She couldn’t finish that sentence. This was her family, after all.

  God, she really was tired.

  Ryan laughed. “Really? Doesn’t sound like you.” Then he became serious. “What do you want us to do?”

  Her brothers and her father stared at her.

  “Nothing,” Emily said. “I’m fine. Or I will be fine soon. Like I said, sometimes things just don’t work out. This is my business. Nobody else’s.”

  Her father put his hand on her shoulder. “Just take care of yourself, okay?”

  She nodded.

  “I remember when I took you all to Wasaga Beach. I think Emily was fifteen? And Jay kept staring at her all day.” He chuckled. “Usually when a father sees a boy checking out his teenage daughter, it makes him feel protective. But Jay was just twelve, and I knew nothing would happen.”

  Emily hadn’t noticed anything that day at the beach, so very long ago. But given what Jay had revealed to her recently, she wasn’t surprised.

  “This is my business,” Nick thundered. “Since he’s my so-called best friend, and you’re my sister.”

  Emily shook her head. “No. What happened between the two of us is not your business.” She looked at Diana and silently pleaded for help.

  Diana took Nick’s arm. “Let’s go out on the porch for a few minutes, okay?”

  Nick didn’t say anything about it for the rest of the evening. They ate beef and roasted vegetables and salad, plus chocolate cake for dessert, courtesy of Ryan, and it was all very tasty.

  Well, Emily knew it was good, but she couldn’t enjoy it as much as she usually would.

  Her dad poured tea for everyone. “Roger called the other day.” That was Jay’s father. “They want to have us all over for dinner. Is that going to be okay, Emily? You don’t have to come.”

  “Sure. I can manage.”

  Her response was met by a bunch of doubtful faces. Geez, she really wasn’t doing a good job of pretending to be okay.

  And yet.