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

  Don't Need You

  A Brother’s Best Friend Romance

  Lilian Monroe

  Contents

  Foreword

  1. Kit

  2. Serena

  3. Kit

  4. Serena

  5. Kit

  6. Serena

  7. Kit

  8. Serena

  9. Kit

  10. Serena

  11. Kit

  12. Serena

  13. Kit

  14. Serena

  15. Kit

  16. Serena

  17. Kit

  18. Serena

  19. Kit

  20. Serena

  21. Kit

  22. Serena

  23. Kit

  24. Serena

  25. Kit

  26. Serena

  27. Kit

  28. Serena

  29. Kit

  30. Serena

  31. Kit

  32. Serena

  Epilogue

  Won’t Miss You

  Preview

  1. Benji

  2. Rae

  Also by Lilian Monroe

  Copyright © 2020 Lilian Monroe All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the author except for short quotations used for the purpose of reviews.

  Resemblance to action persons, things living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

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  1

  Kit

  The plane’s communications intercom buzzes. Exchanging a glance with my copilot, Robbie, I groan. I know it’s a flight attendant calling to find out how much longer we’ll be sitting on the runway.

  Again.

  Robbie, the pilot in charge, snorts as he looks at me. “They must be getting antsy back there.”

  “I don’t blame them,” I say, pressing a button to pick up her call. “Hi, Lisa.”

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Kit. Have you heard from the air traffic controllers?”

  “Not yet. I’ll get Robbie to make an announcement to pacify the passengers.”

  “Thank you.” She lets out a long sigh, and I’m glad I’m locked in the cockpit away from the unwashed masses. I can hear at least two babies screeching in my headset, and Lisa’s voice sounds even more strained than it did five minutes ago. I hang up the call and glance at Robbie.

  He grins. “Giving me all the grunt work, huh?”

  “You have a better pilot voice than I do.”

  “Right.” Robbie takes over the intercom system, speaking into his headset as he presses a button on the dash.

  “This is your pilot speaking,” he starts, dropping his voice to a monotonous drone. “Thank you for your patience, folks. There are three planes ahead of us in the queue at the moment, so we’ll have to sit tight for another ten to fifteen minutes. We should be taking off shortly. Please remain in your seats with the seat belts fastened, and we’ll do our best to make this a smooth flight over to Bradley International Airport.”

  He takes his finger off the button, glancing at me.

  “Ten to fifteen minutes?” I arch my brows.

  “Gives them a bit of hope.” He grins.

  “You know it’ll be longer than that.”

  Robbie shrugs. “I don’t know how long it’ll be. Air traffic control isn’t telling us shit.”

  I grunt, staring out at the strip of asphalt ahead of us. I’ve been staring at the same view for at least half an hour, with no word on when we’ll be allowed to taxi to the runway.

  “Times like this, I bet you miss flying the smaller planes,” Robbie says. “Less red tape. Just hop in a plane and take off.”

  My heart squeezes. “Not really,” I lie. “This is good too. Longer flights. More money.”

  “More sitting around,” he adds.

  “That too.”

  “You’ve done well for your first few months, though. Really.”

  I give Robbie a tight smile, adjusting my tie as I nod. “Thanks, man.”

  I smooth my hands over my hair and let out a sigh. This job is good. It is. It’s stable and it pays better than the skydiving business I used to run with my former best friend, Finn. I should be happy here, instead of wishing I were watching Finn jump out of our little red plane.

  The skin around my eyes tightens as I try to shake away that thought. I won’t think of him right now.

  Robbie looks at me and laughs. “Calm down, man. You need to learn to chill out. This happens all the time. Get used to it.”

  “It’s fine,” I say, glancing at him. “But we won’t be landing on time.”

  Robbie shrugs. “Loosen up, Kit. It’s out of our control. Just trust the process.”

  Ah, trust. That old chestnut. How am I supposed to trust anything when my entire life has been one long exercise in all the reasons I shouldn’t trust anything or anyone but myself?

  First, my bipolar mother led me through a chaotic first fourteen years of life. When my father got custody, things got better.

  Sort of.

  I trusted him. And what does he do? He goes and dies. Oh, and then my half-sister, Esme, gets lymphoma and has to fight cancer for six years throughout her teens and young adulthood. But I should just trust that everything works out, right?

  Then, last summer, things are looking up. Esme’s in remission. My business is booming. I trust the universe to give me an easy ride for a while.

  Ha.

  The universe just says LOL and makes Esme fall in love with my ex-business partner, Finn, and they start sneaking around behind my back while I reconnect with my long-lost, terminally ill mother. Then my mother dies, my friendship and business with Finn implodes, and suddenly I’m the bad guy who doesn’t believe in true love between my sister and my piece of shit ex-best friend.

  But yeah. I’ll trust the process. Because that has been successful so far.

  Not.

  “My family will be able to loosen you up.” Robbie grins, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’ll have to deal with the chaos of two dozen Italians for the next three days.”

  I pinch my lips together, trying to huff out a laugh. Chaos isn’t exactly something I like, but at least it’ll distract me from the shitshow that is my current life.

  I like things to be neat. Ordered. Exactly where they should be.

  It’s one of the reasons I like flying planes. It might seem like a thrilling thing to do, but I enjoy the meticulous checks and the feeling of control. When we’re in the air, I’m in charge of my own destiny.

  Or at least, I used to be. When I flew planes at Woodvale Skydive, the business I started with Finn, I felt something. It tugged at my gut and made me feel like life was worth living. Flying commercial aircrafts feels more like driving a bus.

  I let out a sigh, watching a plane take off in front of us. “We should be second in line now. Hopefully they give us the green light to move soon.”

  Robbie grunts. “Typical holidays. At least we have a weekend off after this flight.” He stretches his neck from side to side. “And you’ve got next week off, too, you lucky bastard.”

  “You sure it’s okay for me to spend Thanksgiving with you?”

  “Of course, dude.” Robbie smiles. “I think my mother and grandmother thrive on feeding the strays we bring home
every year. They’re Italian. Their love language is food.”

  I force a smile, nodding. “All right.”

  It feels weird spending the holiday on the other side of the country. My thoughts flick to my sister, Esme. Last I talked to her, she’d driven back to Woodvale to be with Finn. They’re deeply in love, apparently.

  I’m still not over it.

  It’s not that I’m a bad guy. I want them to be happy. I do.

  It’s just that Finn lied to me to be with my sister while I was out of town. It’s not right. It’s not how friends should treat each other. He should have been up-front with me. How can I trust someone like that?

  A small part of me is jealous, much as I hate to admit it. I always thought I’d find someone before Finn. I was always the one who talked about having a family, getting married, living a quiet life with a couple of kids. Finn, on the other hand? He doesn’t have a stable bone in his body, and I never thought he’d find someone to calm him down.

  I definitely didn’t think it would be my little sister.

  Me? Stable as fuck. Even keeled. Tidy. In control. Waiting for my white picket fence and my two-point-five kids.

  Sitting here on the tarmac, still waiting.

  Robbie runs his hands through his thick, black hair, sending it up in a thousand different directions.

  His family invited me to spend Thanksgiving in Connecticut, and I jumped at the opportunity. My other option was spending it alone in my hometown of Woodvale.

  I mean, yeah. I could join my sister and mother at Finn’s place, but I just… can’t. Putting on a big, fake smile and pretending I don’t feel like a thousand daggers are sticking out of my back doesn’t sound like my idea of a good time. They can have their happy family reunion without me.

  Finn lied to me, and I can’t just forget that with a snap of my fingers. He was the one person I thought I could trust. I left town to be with my dying mother, asking him to take care of my little sister. What does he do? He takes advantage of that.

  I can’t just turn around and say pass the mashed potatoes without wanting to stab him with a fork.

  And Esme?

  Well, Esme’s Esme. Tough. A fighter. I can’t be mad at her, but I wish she’d fallen in love with someone less… I don’t know. Anyone but Finn, really.

  I just can’t face them. Not yet. It hurts too much.

  I glance at the pilot beside me, registering what he said. “How many of you are there?”

  “In my family?” Robbie grins. “Dozens. Sicilian on both sides.” He arches an eyebrow. “Be ready to eat. My Nonna will take it as a personal affront if you gain any less than five pounds over the course of the weekend.”

  I chuckle. “I’ll do my best.” The tension in my chest eases ever so slightly, and I’m able to take a full breath.

  Our headsets crackle, and the air traffic controller’s metallic voice comes on. We can taxi to the runway and take our spot as next in line. Robbie answers, doing final safety checks. I shift in my seat and get ready for a flight across the country.

  When we finally do get in the air, the flight is uneventful. I try to hide my boredom, but Robbie sees right through me.

  “Not exactly the same as having people jump out of planes, huh?”

  I grunt. “You can say that again.”

  “You said you started the skydiving business with your friend?” Robbie glances at me, leaning back in his seat.

  I nod. “Yeah. A few years ago. Woodvale Skydive was the center of my world.”

  “Why’d you stop?”

  I shrug. “Shit happens.”

  Robbie makes a soft noise in response. “What’s Woodvale like?”

  “Beautiful,” I answer. “Really lush, almost rainforest-like. There’s this long strip of cliffs that line the Pacific Ocean on one end of town. I love it there. The summers are incredible. Pretty wet the rest of the year, though. It feels like a different world. When I’m on shift, I stay at the staff accommodations at the Seattle-Tacoma airport and it’s some awful form of torture to know Woodvale is so close but still out of reach.”

  “The Pacific Northwest,” he says, smiling. “Nice.” He opens his mouth to add something, then reconsiders. Robbie’s brow furrows ever so slightly as he clenches his jaw, and I know there’s something he wants to say.

  He doesn’t, and I don’t pry. One of the many reasons we get along.

  We turn back to the console, but I know there won’t be anything for me to do. This plane basically flies itself once we’re up in the air.

  If I’m being completely honest, I do miss the smaller planes. Not just smaller planes. I miss my plane. The plane I worked on every day. The plane I painstakingly washed and tucked in the hangar at the end of the day. It was my baby.

  Commercial flights are fine. Honestly. They are. But there’s no rush of feeling an aircraft completely under your control. There’s no change in pressure when the roller door opens, and the knowledge that people will start jumping. There are no elated faces at the bottom, waiting to thank me for the most incredible experience of their lives.

  Commercial flying is safe. It pays pretty well.

  But it’s boring as hell.

  I said I liked being tidy—I didn’t say I was dull.

  When we make it across the country, I prepare myself for the only enjoyable part of the entire flight. Landing the plane is the hardest part of the whole process, but even that doesn’t compare to the small plane I used to fly at Woodvale Skydive.

  I’d never admit this to Finn, or Robbie, or Esme—but I miss it. Desperately.

  A bigger part of me is bitter, though. I just can’t, in good faith, go back and work with Finn. He betrayed my trust. He turned his back on me when I was the one who’d always stood by his side. Guess he couldn’t return the favor.

  Robbie and I finish up the flight and exit the plane, then take our small roller bags to another flight. His family lives in a small suburb outside New Haven, Connecticut. As we make our way onto another plane—as passengers, this time—I’m grateful to have met my copilot.

  He and I have been working together for the past two months. We do the same run from Sea-Tac to Bradley International, and I’ve gotten used to flying with him by my side. In two short months, we’ve spent countless hours together in the cockpit. We’ve grown close. On some level, I think Robbie understands I had to leave the skydiving business, and he’s made it his mission to make me feel at home on our flights.

  He’s tall and lanky. With his short, dark hair and thick, black stubble, he would look imposing if he wasn’t smiling all the time.

  We take the short flight down to New Haven and finally arrive at our final destination.

  As we enter the lobby of the airport, a woman steps through the sliding glass doors. She has a mane of dark, curly hair and a bright smile. She waves in our direction, and my stomach clenches hard.

  How would it feel to have a woman like that greet me? To have someone so gorgeous rush toward me? To feel her arms wrap around me and know I’m going home with her?

  As she approaches, I expect her eyes to shift to someone behind us. My eyebrows tug together when she shouts Robbie’s name.

  I glance at my copilot, popping a brow. He stops, leaving his suitcase beside him as he spreads his arms wide.

  The woman laughs, rushing forward. Curvy, soft lines carve their way down her body. A faded Led Zeppelin T-shirt is tied off at the waist, and a little purple jewel sparkles in her bellybutton. My heart pounds as I sweep my gaze up her long legs, wondering what it would feel like to sink my fingers into her thigh. Her hip. Her waist. Full, soft lips curl into a smile…and, shit. I’m hard.

  She jumps in Robbie’s arms, laughing. “Robbie!”

  They hug as need wraps around my body like a thick, heady fog. Pressure pushes down in the pit of my stomach, reminding me how long it’s been since I had a woman in my arms. I tear my eyes away from her, bringing my fist up to my mouth as I clear my throat. I can’t lust after my friend�
��s girlfriend. What kind of asshole does that make me? Robbie invites me over for Thanksgiving, and I stand here, salivating over his girl?

  “You must be Kit,” the woman says, turning her bright smile my way. “Come here.”

  She pulls me in, wrapping her arms around my neck. I stifle a groan as her breasts crush against me. Where my body is hard, flat lines, hers is soft. Curvy. So fucking perfect it makes my chest ache. I’m afraid to touch her. Her hands feel cold on my neck, but her body is so deliciously warm.

  She smells good. Orange creamsicle. Sweet and citrusy, like I would enjoy tasting her juice and letting it drip down my chin.

  I give her a quick squeeze and pull away, running my fingers through my hair.

  “Kit, this is my twin sister, Serena,” Robbie says, smiling.

  “Before you ask, yes, we’re fraternal, not identical. Nice to finally meet my new roommate,” Serena says, shoving my shoulder.

  I stare at her chocolate brown eyes, admiring the deep olive tones in her skin. I’m lost in her beauty for a beat.

  Then her words register.

  I frown. “W-What?” I glance at Robbie, whose eyebrows have tugged together so close they almost touch.

  He rubs the back of his neck, cringing. “Yeah, uh…”

  “You didn’t ask him,” Serena says, her eyes widening. Her lush, pink lips drop open as she stares at her brother, and for a moment, I don’t care that she just called herself my roommate. I steal another glance at her body, my eyes lingering on that navel piercing.