Don't Need You: A Brother's Best Friend Romance (We Shouldn't Book 3) Page 11

  I laugh, nodding, and we both walk to the kitchen together. “And here I thought you were coming to welcome me to the neighborhood.”

  Esme grins, glancing over her shoulder as she opens the refrigerator door. “That too. Welcome.”

  “But mostly pie.”

  “Can you blame me? I see you and Kit have tucked in.”

  Esme pulls out the pie and helps herself to a piece. For the second time this week, I follow suit and have pumpkin pie for breakfast. It’s basically salad, though. Kit said so himself.

  Esme digs her fork into the pie and chews, staring at me with sharp eyes.

  “What?”

  “You convinced my brother to forgive Finn.” It’s not a question. Esme tilts her head, staring at me.

  I shrug. “It seemed like a silly fight to cling to.”

  “How did you do it so quickly? Took you all of what, twenty-four hours?”

  I laugh, shoving more pie in my face. “I don’t know. I guess he was ready.”

  “I think he likes you.”

  My stomach clenches as my cheeks burn. I know my face is red already, and Esme’s eyebrows arch in interest.

  “And you like him too.”

  I put my plate down and turn my back to Esme to grab a glass of water—but also to get some respite from her eagle-eyed stare. I can feel her gaze on my back as I fill the glass with water and drink half of it down. When I turn around again, she’s still staring, eyebrow arched.

  I let out a sigh. “Yeah. I do. But we agreed to just be friends.”

  “Right.”

  “It’s easier that way. With me living at his place, it would get messy otherwise.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Plus, there’s my brother to think about. They work together. It would be awkward.”

  “Never stopped me.” Esme grins, taking the last bit of pie crust off her plate and popping it in her mouth.

  I chuckle, my face now bright red. I shake my head, letting out a deep sigh. “I just got out of a relationship a few months ago. It’s not a good time.”

  “It never is,” Esme says, but her voice is softer now. Her eyes don’t pierce through me now and she gives me a smile. “What do you say about coming to the airfield with me and Finn? I convinced him to give you a free skydive for knocking some sense into my brother.

  “Isn’t it a bit cold for that?”

  Esme chuckles. “Rain check then. You can do it in the summertime.” She tilts her head, and I know she’s reading my face. Can she see how much I like Kit? Can she see how damaged I am and how much I desperately want to break free from my old life? Can she see that I like it here, and I don’t want to mess it up?

  “You want to go see Nadia at the florist shop? We were going to go shopping for a new couch for me when she closes up. You could join.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

  Esme rolls her eyes, opening the front closet and tossing me my jacket. “Come on, Serena. I wouldn’t invite you if you were intruding.”

  A smile tugs at my lips as excitement curls in the pit of my stomach. My instinct is to say no when people invite me out, because I’m used to being by myself. I’m used to being isolated. Alone. Locked away from prying eyes, waiting for my mean ex-boyfriend to come home.

  But that’s the past. Another life in another place.

  Now?

  I’m free to slip my shoes on and follow Esme out the door.

  We walk in comfortable silence on our way into town, and I’m grateful Esme isn’t asking too many questions. She has a quiet strength about her, and I suspect it has to do with the fact she’s grown up with an illness. She’s had to overcome a lot, and she doesn’t waste words when they aren’t needed.

  But when we get to the florist shop on Main Street, Nadia is the exact opposite. Her curly red hair is tied up in a high ponytail with a few stray strands loose around her face. Her cheeks are bright pink and eyes glimmering. She gives us a big smile, welcoming us into the shop. My eyes slide to the man leaning on the counter, and I recognize Racer from the bar.

  His eyes slide down the length of my body and back up again, a smirk pulling the corner of his lips.

  “Esme!” Nadia exclaims. “And Serena!”

  “Thought you’d need some company today, but apparently not.” Esme grins, jerking her chin at Racer. He rubs his chin with his palm, shrugging.

  Nadia gives me a hug and then moves to Esme, all while asking me a thousand and one questions about my first few days in Woodvale. Behind us, the door jingles and a man walks in. I think I saw him working behind the bar the other night.

  “Jackson.” Nadia smiles. “You’re here to come help Esme pick out a couch?”

  “I’m here to save her from her own terrible taste.” He grins, arching a finely groomed eyebrow at Esme. Esme scoffs, rolling her eyes. His lips purse, and I notice he’s wearing a touch of highlighter on the high points of his cheeks. The man is wearing more makeup than I am and looking better than I ever could. I might need to ask him for tips.

  Then, Racer pipes in, leaning toward me. “What about you and Kit?”

  “What do you mean, me and Kit?” My heart thumps.

  Esme snorts. “She’s in denial.”

  “Nothing’s going on between us.”

  “Uh-huh,” Racer says, eyebrows arched. “Didn’t look like that the other night at the bar.”

  I shake my head. “We’re just friends.”

  “I’ve heard this story before,” Jackson says, giving Nadia a knowing glance. I stare at them all one by one, seeing nothing but the truth reflected back at me.

  Kit and I are nowhere near just friends.

  “Where do you get that type of friend? Because I’d like one,” Racer says, laughing. Nadia swats his arm, rolling her eyes.

  Nadia leans against the counter, flicking her eyes between me, Jackson, Esme, and Racer. She grins. “Kit likes you. You should go for it.”

  “We’re only friends,” I repeat. “I’m trying to start fresh.”

  “I get that,” Esme says. She steers the conversation away from me and Kit and toward her new couch, and I say a silent thank you. It’s like she knew I was getting uncomfortable and took the spotlight off me.

  Still, their words have an effect on me. I know Kit feels something for me. Whether it’s just lust or something more, I’m not sure.

  But what if my new friends are right? What if a fresh start could include Kit?

  Every day that passes while I’m away from Angelo, away from my overbearing family, away from my past, I realize how much I’ve been holding myself back. I’ve had a leash around my neck and I’ve been afraid to stray too far from the accepted path.

  But looking around the florist shop—seeing how the rest of the group carries themselves—it makes me reconsider. A fresh start doesn’t need to be me, alone. Finding myself doesn’t need to happen without any help.

  I’m running away from my problems, trying to turn away from all men, but that could be the wrong approach. Maybe the best way for me to heal is to find someone who treats me right. Someone who understands me and respects me. Someone who shows me that I’m worth more than I thought.

  Someone like Kit.

  A deep, pulsing thrill courses through me. It seems so obvious when I think about it now.

  I don’t need to turn away from men to find myself, I just need to find the right man. Running away from relationships on my quest to find myself is holding me back.

  What I need to do is start trusting my instincts again. Believing that I’m worthy of love. Trusting that if I open myself up to love, fate won’t laugh in my face.

  Hopefully Kit won’t, either.

  As I stand there, surrounded by flowers and new friends, as the weather whips around the building and I stay warm and safe inside, my resolve strengthens.

  Next time I see Kit, I don’t want to just be his friend. I want to be honest.

  And I want him.

  17

  Kit
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  Four days never seemed so long. After flying the skydiving plane, coming back to commercial flying bores me to death. When I sit next to Robbie, my thoughts drift to Serena, and Esme, and Finn.

  Mostly Serena.

  Robbie can tell something’s wrong. When we part ways on the fourth day, he tilts his head and stares at me.

  “Something’s different with you.”

  I shake my head. “I’m fine. Just a bit distracted.”

  He nods, then extends his hand for me to shake. My chest clenches, and I feel like a terrible friend for having impure thoughts about his sister.

  Then again, he said he wouldn’t mind someone dating her if it was the right guy. What if that guy were me?

  “You going to fly the skydiving plane on your days off?” Robbie tilts his head, and I know what he’s asking. He’s asking if I’ll quit this job. If my heart is in it anymore—or if it ever was. He’s asking if this is the beginning of the end.

  And the truth?

  I have no idea.

  I shake my head. “It’s winter. I doubt they have much going on.”

  Robbie nods, still searching my face. “Say hi to my sister for me.”

  “Will do.” Guilt worms its way through my chest as a ball of pressure builds right underneath my heart.

  Robbie doesn’t seem to notice. He claps me on the shoulder and gives me a smile. “She likes you, you know.”

  “Who?”

  “My sister.”

  “Oh.”

  His eyes are sharp, staring into mine like he’s trying to tell me something. My heart thumps, and the words are on my lips.

  I like her too.

  But I swallow them back down and bid him goodbye before heading to my car. I drum my hands on the steering wheel as I drive from Seattle to Woodvale. Excitement sparks deep in my marrow at the thought of coming home to Serena. I wonder if these days apart have had an effect on her, too. If she feels this way about me. If she’d want to take the leap and see what happens.

  But when I get home, the house is dark. Disappointment crashes into me like a wave, dragging me down and making my shoulders round. I drop my bag by the door and call out into the house, with nothing but the creak of the timber and silence answering back.

  She’s not here.

  I rub my temples with my fingers, feeling stupid. Foolish. I rushed back here, thinking she’d be waiting for me with open arms. I imagined we’d be able to wrap our arms around each other and fall into bed. I thought I’d be able to confess my budding feelings for her and have her say them right back to me. My very own fairy tale, right here in Woodvale.

  She’s not even home, let alone sitting here waiting for me.

  Sighing, I bring my bag to my room and jump in the shower. I let the water wash away four days of work and a lifetime of repressed feelings. I let it wash away my guilt with Robbie and my expectations of Serena. When I step out in a cloud of steam, I feel better. New.

  Whatever happens between Serena and me will happen. If it’s nothing, that’s okay. And when I dry my body with a soft, white towel, I mean it. I’m attracted to her, of course, but I don’t want to be hanging on for her. Waiting for her to come home. Wondering where she is.

  Serena’s living her own life, maybe for the first time. Who am I to expect her to jump in my arms? I saw what kind of guy her ex-boyfriend is. It would be unreasonable of me to expect her to be interested in me.

  As these thoughts fill my mind, I believe them. I wrap the towel around my hips and drag a comb across my head, and I truly, honestly believe that I’m ready to let go of the fantasy of me and Serena.

  But when I walk out of the bathroom, Serena’s there, and my fantasies come back with a vengeance. Her lips drop open when she sees me standing in nothing but a towel, holding it closed at my hips. Her eyes run down my body, heat flaming in their depths.

  And fire blazes through me, too. It rips a wide swath down to my core, pinning me to the ground. Even though the cool air outside the bathroom is making goosebumps ripple over my skin, I feel warm. Hot. Alive. I can’t move, because her eyes tell me not to.

  I just stand still and let her look. When Serena drags her tongue over her lower lip, my stomach clenches so hard it almost hurts. Blood rushes between my legs and all I want to do is drop the towel and let her see it all. Would she like the look of me? Would she lick her lips like that if she could see how hard my cock is right now?

  The thought makes another wave of lust crash into me. Every day since I’ve met her, I’ve jerked off to the thought of her perfect, lush lips wrapped around my shaft. Pumping myself in and out of her. Hearing my name on her lips.

  Flicking her eyes up to mine, Serena finally speaks. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “How was work?” Her voice is breathy, and her eyes drift down again, lingering on the flat planes of my chest and stomach. I watch her hands clench into fists, and I wonder if she’s holding herself back from reaching for me.

  I take a step forward, loving the way her throat bobs when she swallows. How could I think to resist her? How could I imagine coming home and not wanting to throw her in my bed? How could I think that I was ready to let her go?

  “Work was good,” I finally say. “How have you been?”

  “Better now,” she answers almost instinctively, then a wash of redness stains her cheeks. Serena shakes her head, finally averting her eyes.

  I miss them. I miss the heat of her gaze on my body. I miss the hunger written all over her face. Turning to my bedroom, I slip inside and let out a long breath. I pull on a clean T-shirt, underwear, and jeans before hanging up the towel on a hook on the back of my door and taking a deep breath. My blood is still running hot in my veins. My heart is thumping hard, and another part of me is hard, too.

  I shift my pants before opening my bedroom door, steeling myself against the assault Serena’s presence will have on me.

  But when I walk out, she’s gone. Her bedroom door is closed, and I let out a disappointed breath.

  Friends.

  Just friends. Roommates.

  Isn’t that what we are? Nothing more, maybe less.

  Slumping down on the sofa, I turn on the television and find an old movie. Netflix has Shawshank now, so I click on it and settle in. I’m almost relaxed when Serena’s bedroom door opens, and my body’s on edge again. I turn to see her, noting she’s changed into a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved tee. She gives me a shy smile, biting her bottom lip and nodding to the seat on the couch beside me.

  Aaannd I’m hard again.

  I try not to stare—and fail. Her shirt clings in all the right places. I steal a glance at the swell of her breasts, wanting to bury my face between them. The sweatpants hang low on her wide hips, and her ass looks incredible. She sits down, bringing one knee up and wrapping her arms around her calf.

  “I love this movie,” she says, but I’ve already forgotten about it. She turns to look at me, smiling.

  “Your brother says hi,” I blurt, not wanting to talk about Robbie in the slightest.

  “I’ll call him tomorrow,” she says, obviously not wanting to talk about him either. Serena shifts closer to me, reaching across me to grab a throw blanket from the arm of the sofa.

  Orange creamsicle. Sweet vanilla citrus. I close my eyes and try to gain control over my rioting body. It’s like one breath of air near her plugs me in to the most primal parts of my brain. It makes me want her. Need her. Crave her. She drags me into her orbit like it’s nothing, and I don’t even know if she realizes.

  Then, I feel Serena’s finger on my temple. She pushes a strand of wet hair back as I lean into her touch, my heart pounding in my chest.

  “Serena…” I growl, afraid to say much more. Do I tell her to stop? Do I beg her not to?

  “Don’t,” she says. “I missed you.”

  “You did?” Hope flares in my chest, and I stare into her deep, brown eyes. I could get lost in them. Her lashes fan over her cheeks as she looks down, a
soft pink flush spreading over her face. My hand moves to her thigh, and I feel her pulse hammering beneath my palm.

  My heart jumps.

  She feels this too. The electricity. The energy. The need.

  When Serena finally meets my eye, she moves her fingers across my cheek. Her index finger traces the outline of my lips, and all I want to do is part them and suck her finger inside. I want to taste her skin. Anything.

  I. Just. Want. Her.

  “What are we doing?” I ask in a breathy whisper, needing to know the answer and not wanting it to be the wrong one.

  “I don’t know,” Serena says. “But I’m glad you’re home.”

  My hand climbs up her thigh until I feel the curve of her ass, fingers sinking into her flesh. I bet she tastes like heaven. Her eyes flick between mine, trying to read what I’m thinking.

  “I’m glad I’m home too,” I say softly, meeting her gaze.

  Can she see what I’m not saying? Can she sense what I feel?

  I suck in a breath, catching her fingers in mine and laying a soft kiss on her knuckles. “I don’t want to push you, Serena. I know what you’ve been through. I know you need time.”

  “I don’t want to be friends,” she whispers, the words tumbling out of her as if she’s been trying to keep them in for days. “I want to be more.”

  If there was anything she could say to make my world tilt on its axis, it’s that. Everything I’ve been dreaming of since she walked across the airport lobby, been too afraid to admit, too bitter to face—she summed up in five words. Everything I imagined when my eyes were closed and my fist was tight around my cock, she just spoke out loud.

  I lift my eyes to meet hers, gulping down my fears.

  My voice is raspy when I finally manage to speak. “Me too.”

  18

  Serena

  My heart feels like it’s about to explode. It races in my chest, bouncing against my ribcage as it pumps hot blood through my body.

  Hot. Heat. Fire.

  The ice inside me has long since melted. I haven’t felt cold in days.