My Brother's Best Friend: A Sweet YA Romance (Sweet Mountain High Book 5)

by Randi Rigby

  Passing her brother in the kitchen, Harper pulled me into the library. Her eyes were huge as she sat down next to me on the loveseat. “What’s going on?”

  I told her about Cal. “Did you notice anything unusual about Jasmine?” I asked.

  Harper made a face. “Do you want me to list this alphabetically or just pull it randomly out of the air?”

  “I’m serious.”

  She tucked her knees under her and twisted her long, dark hair into some sort of knot that she piled on top of her head and secured with a band she’d worn next to her infinity bracelet. Funny how I’d never noticed how elegant her long-fingered hands were before—probably because they were usually busy pitching things at me. “I don’t know.” She chewed pensively on her bottom lip. “She did seem slightly more smug than usual. I thought it might be because she was wearing Cal’s jersey tonight, but who knows? What do you think they’re up to?” Then came a pause. “Luke?”

  I heard her. I knew she was waiting for a response. But I couldn’t seem to drag my eyes and attention away from the little mole just under her lip line. It mesmerized me. We were sitting so close, our knees touched, and I could smell her scent in the air. I knew if I leaned forward slightly, I could brush my lips against that mole. The thought of it made my mouth go dry. You actually think she’d want you to kiss her?

  I dropped my head in my hands, suddenly feeling exhausted. It had been a very long day. I’d started work at four that morning, and that might’ve been the highlight.

  “Luke?” Harper’s voice was soft and everywhere.

  I stared at my feet. “I got to go.”

  I could hear her moving. “I’ll take you.”

  “No.” No way. Absolutely not. I was already running out the door.

  “Luke!”

  She followed me out of the house and maybe even down the driveway. But she was barefooted, and I was motivated. Not even Harper Adams stood a chance against the demons that chased me all the way home.

  7

  Harper

  Well, I was right about one thing—pageants took up a lot of time. There was no way I was going to be able to sneak this one under the radar. My parents were understandably confused when I broke the news to them. Cal advised me to wait until after dinner. Dad was always less stressed once he’d eaten and had a chance to decompress from his day. I made my twin promise he’d stay and support me, mostly because then he wouldn’t be with her.

  But I had trouble eating. I picked at my food. Cal kept silently watching me.

  “So, Cal tells me you and Luke are a thing now?” Dad said, forking his salad with a precision that probably carried over into surgery. It came out as simple curiosity, but I was already a little edgy because of the impending pageant reveal and feeling guilty about deceiving my entire family about being with someone they all knew and loved. My knife slipped out of my hand and clattered noisily against my plate before bouncing onto the floor. I bent over to retrieve it. My face felt like it was on fire.

  “We like each other,” I shrugged, trying to make it look breezy.

  “Since when?” Mom said.

  Dad laughed.

  I glared at them.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Dad said. He leaned forward in his chair. “But you have to admit, it’s a bit of a surprise.”

  Oh yeah? Just wait.

  “We’ve actually been together for a while.” This didn’t feel like too big of a stretch. “Luke gets me,” I quietly trailed off. The moment the words fell from my mouth, I realized they might actually be true.

  I didn’t hear much more of the conversation after that. My mind was lost in a fog that looked an awful lot like the back of Luke Drake as he disappeared around the corner and out of view last night. He knew everything about me. He’d been a part of my family for so many years he’d been at every major event in my life. But what did I really know about him? The few times I’d asked about his family, he’d grown so cold and silent I didn’t dare bring it up again. I didn’t even know where he lived.

  “Harper.” Cal tapped his foot against mine under the dinner table.

  Startled, I looked up at him.

  “You’re not eating?” Dad said, and maybe not for the first time.

  I shook my head. “No. I’m not hungry. May I please be excused?” I got up and cleared my dishes. And then, because I had a lot of nervous energy, I immediately began tidying the kitchen.

  Everywhere I looked, I saw Luke: eating homemade cookies fresh out of the oven, changing light bulbs, pulling a turkey out of Mom’s brine bucket at Thanksgiving, stringing her Christmas card displays, and blowing the candles out on his birthday cake. It never occurred to me to ask why he always did those things with our family and not his. I guess I’d just gotten used to him always being here.

  “Harp.” Mom took the washcloth from me. “I think it’s clean enough, baby.”

  I stared at the little circle I’d been scrubbing on the countertop. “Oh, right.”

  “You okay?” Her arms went around my shoulders. My twin leaned against the island next to me.

  Cal’s handsome face, full of concern, suddenly reminded me I had a job to do. I shut my eyes tight. Focus, Harp. “I need to talk to you and Dad about something. I . . . maybe we should go into the living room.”

  “Stephen,” Mom said, sounding worried. “Harper needs to talk to us. In the living room.”

  I grabbed Cal’s arm. “You’re not leaving, right?” I pleaded a little desperately. I still had so many questions about Luke, and I knew he was anxious to meet up with Jasmine.

  He squeezed my hand and sat down next to me on the small sofa across from our parents. I took a deep breath. I couldn’t seem to stop wiping my palms on my knees and twisting the rings on my fingers. “Okay. There’s no easy way to say this.” I looked at Cal for moral support. His eyes were full of love. I still couldn’t quite figure out why, but he was my biggest fan. “I, um, did something. You have to know I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did. It was sort of a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time—things kind of got out of hand.” I stared at the ground. “I hope you can understand and not judge me too harshly for it.”

  Mom’s face seemed to have lost its color. Not a good sign.

  I cleared my throat. There might’ve been more palm wiping. “I was told I’d learn a lot about myself, so there’s that,” I said. “But I have no idea what to do—never in a million years did I think this would happen to me. I’m just feeling really overwhelmed right now. And . . . I could really use your help.”

  “Harp,” Cal prodded gently. “It’s going to be okay. Just say it.”

  I nervously licked my lips. “I just signed up to compete in the Miss Sweet Mountain pageant.”

  Mom made some sort of strangled cry and then an almost hysterical laugh. Dad’s frozen face slowly melted into a grin as he shook his head. “Oh, my heart. I think I just aged twenty years,” Mom said, dabbing at her eyes. “Harper!”

  “What?”

  Dad, still smiling, took Mom’s hand in his. “So what is this, like some sort of beauty pageant?”

  “Something like that,” I said. “Cal’s girlfriend, Jasmine, really wanted to do it, but she’s new here, and she wanted someone to do it with her. I sort of got drug into it.”

  “What are you going to do for your talent?” Mom said, frowning. I wasn’t someone who could sing, dance, or play any sort of musical instrument—unless you counted the kazoo.

  I brightened. “Fortunately for me, you don’t have to have any talent. It’s judged on how you do in an interview, activewear, and evening gown. But I’m terrified I’m going to make a fool of myself in front of the whole town. I don’t even care about winning. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.”

  “Right. Well, you’ve got Team Harper officially backing you,” Mom said. “I don’t know much about pageants either, but we’ll figure it out together.”

  “Really?” I said, suddenly feeling an enormous w
eight lifted from my shoulders.

  “Really,” Dad replied.

  Cal grinned and gave me a shoulder bump. I hugged him. “Don’t go anywhere,” I whispered in his ear. “I really need to talk to you.” I jumped up and threw my arms around my parents. “You guys are the best. Love you. Thanks!” I practically drug Cal up to my room.

  “What’s going on with you tonight?” Cal asked, half-laughing, half-protesting.

  I closed the door. “Where does Luke live?”

  Cal’s expression immediately sobered. “He didn’t tell you?”

  “I wouldn’t be asking you if he had.”

  Cal shook his head. “Sorry, Harp. I can’t tell you that.”

  “Why not?”

  He was quiet for a moment, and then he shrugged. “He’d never forgive me.”

  “Come on, seriously?”

  “I should go. Jasmine’s waiting for me.” Cal started for the door, but then he paused and turned back around. “Leave it, Harper. I mean it. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

  I sat down on my bed and stewed. I hated waiting.

  “This is stupid,” Luke grumped. I’d activated the tracking device on Cal’s phone shortly after there was a Jasmine in his life, and it led us now to Hot and Wild. We were parked strategically so we could watch them through the restaurant’s front window without being easily spotted by Cal or Jasmine. But Luke’s knees were practically in his chin. Fiats weren’t built for surveillance detail for someone who was six foot five. He shifted in his seat in an attempt to get comfortable. It rocked the car.

  “Will you hold still? People are going to get the wrong idea about what we’re doing in here.”

  “What are we doing in here?”

  I handed him some peanut M&Ms. “Keeping an eye on the snake. I couldn’t think of a good enough excuse to keep Cal at home.” Plus, I figured having Luke in close confinement might force him to open up. “Did he say anything more at school today?”

  “No. Whatever was bugging him yesterday doesn’t seem to be bothering him anymore.”

  I frowned. “Maybe they had a fight?”

  “It’s possible,” Luke conceded. He laid his head against the passenger side window and looked at me. “It happens.”

  The illumination streaming through from the overhead streetlight lit up the angles of Luke’s admittedly gorgeous face. I studied him with interest. “You have a scar on your cheek,” I said, reaching out and touching the tiny white line softly with my finger. “How did that happen?”

  He pushed my hand away. “You’re kidding, right?”

  I blinked.

  “You gave this to me.”

  “I did not.”

  “Yeah, Harp. You did.”

  I shook my head defiantly. “You’re wrong.”

  He sighed. “We were twelve. As per usual, we were in the middle of a pretty heated argument. I told you no one would ever go out with you because of your foul temper, and you threw a plastic window sign at me. I tried to Matrix it, but it clipped me on the face. It took seven stitches to close it. Your dad did it for me.”

  I remembered now. Right after I’d hurled it at Luke, I’d stormed up to my room and cried hot tears into my pillow until my face became puffy and red—mostly because I knew he’d spoken the truth—and then I’d holed myself up in my room for the rest of the afternoon. We’d left for vacation the next day. I had no idea I’d caused this much damage. “How come Dad didn’t make me come down and apologize?” Refereeing our fights was a full-time job for him back then.

  “I told him it was all my fault.”

  I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why on earth would you do that?”

  He was silent for a long time. “I heard you crying,” he finally said, staring at his feet. “I guess I knew I’d crossed a line.”

  Sitting inches apart and perfectly still, something intangible shifted between us.

  Then panic hit with movement. Cal and Jasmine were getting up from their table. “Flippin chicken,” I muttered. “I’m pretty sure Jasmine just saw us.”

  Luke squinted in their direction. “What do we do now?”

  “I hope you’re hungry,” I said, opening my car door. Luke followed my lead. As we made our way toward the restaurant, his hand found mine. We’d had lots of practice at school, so it was no longer a shock, but as his fingers slipped perfectly in with mine, I felt a delicious little thrill.

  “Luke? Harper? What are you doing here?” Jasmine said as we met them coming out.

  “Harper was craving curly fries,” Luke replied, and he pulled me close. If I didn’t know better, I could’ve sworn he sniffed my hair.

  “I thought you’d be hungry,” Cal said with a grin. “You barely ate anything at dinner.”

  “You guys are leaving?” I said. “No, stay and keep us company.” I gave Luke’s waist a gentle squeeze.

  “Come on,” Luke said, quickly shepherding everyone inside to a nearby table.

  As far as chaperons went, we rocked. As soon as we’d placed our order, Luke laid his arm along the back of the booth, his fingertips resting casually on my shoulder like it was something we did all the time instead of the two of us trying to figure each other out. I snugged in a little closer to him. He kept laughing and talking to Cal and Jasmine, but slowly, his hand moved to mine underneath the table. The look he shot me under his sweep of lashes when he laid my hand on his leg, palm up, and began tracing my fingers with his forefinger made my heart thrum dangerously. I felt myself melting into him.

  I’d always loved touch therapy. My mom used to soothe me when I was a baby by running her finger lightly over my skin. I never outgrew it. I knew he’d watched her do that to me countless times over the years. I smiled shyly at him.

  We got lost in each other’s eyes.

  And then his phone buzzed.

  Blinking, he pulled it out and looked at it. It was like a heavy shade of darkness suddenly slammed down on this beautiful boy. He squeezed his eyes shut and fisted his bangs.

  Cal was already getting to his feet. “Do you need a ride?”

  Luke barely nodded.

  “Harp, take Jasmine home?” Cal said. They were already heading out the door.

  “Of course,” I started to say. But they were already gone.

  8

  Luke

  My stepfather found the prom tickets.

  Doug had no business snooping through my things, but I wasn’t surprised he had. I’d lived with him for twelve miserable years. He’d always hated me, but lately, he treated me like he was harboring a possible drug dealer. He stood there with a sneer on his face, unable to rise out of his own miserable existence and hold down a steady job, his beer belly hanging low over his belt, and demanded I start paying him room and board since I could so obviously afford it.

  He spat out lie after lie, and my mom just sat there looking small and tired and did nothing. She never did. He even shoved me, which was stupid. I’d never been more tempted to plow my fist into someone than I was at that moment. But Dr. Adams raised me better than that. Swallowing my fury, I packed up as much as I could cram into a duffel bag and walked away.

  Doug wouldn’t let me take my bike—he screamed that he’d report it as stolen—but I didn’t want anything he thought was his anyway. It was after midnight. I thought about calling Cal, but suddenly, I knew I didn’t want Harper to see me like this. Pushing the tears out of my eyes, I headed for the school. I still had my key. Rolling up my towel for a pillow and using a sweatshirt for a blanket, I slept on a couple of mats I’d pulled into a corner in the upstairs weight room of the gym.

  When I woke up to the sound of my alarm in unfamiliar surroundings, the cold reality hit that this was now my life.

  I brushed my teeth and went for a run. Doing normal, routine things helped curb the building panic starting to swamp my brain. I was eighteen. Legally, that made me an adult. I couldn’t afford to live on my own, but I didn’t need a guardian. In six weeks, school would be out, and I could
get a full-time job. Until then, I just had to make it through, day by day. I showered, stashed my belongings in the back of a closet that housed football equipment, and reported for work with Coach Samms.

  As I set up tables for a debate tournament our school was hosting later that day, I fine-tuned my plan for the weekend. I’d have a hard time staying at the school without arousing suspicion, but it was Easter. Tomorrow was Sweet Mountain’s annual Easter egg hunt in the town park. Harper had recruited us to help out as buddies with her Champs kids, the special needs organization where she’d worked as a volunteer since she was a freshman. Dr. Adams signed us all up for the Hop to Good Health 5k Run with the promise of an epic spread of his special ribs for dinner afterward. It wouldn’t be unusual or awkward for me to sleepover Saturday night. I did it all the time. Sunday night? I would cross that bridge when I came to it.

  Cal invited Jasmine.

  It became immediately obvious that she was uncomfortable around the Champs kids. Harper paired her with Davy, a ten-year-old with Down syndrome, and a smile that wouldn’t quit. He just wanted to hold Jasmine’s hand and be her friend. She kept stepping back from him with a strange look on her face, like she was suddenly a big fan of social distancing. And she’d worn high heels to an Easter egg hunt.

  Harper finally took Davy with her and Jaleh. “We’re Team Ja-rp-y.” I heard her telling them with a big grin, pulling them in for a group hug, and putting her hand out for a team handshake. “That’s all of our names: Jaleh, Harper, Davy—all sandwiched together.” Jaleh had MS and was in a wheelchair, so Davy and Harper pushed her all over the park while they searched madly, and Jaleh held onto their basket.