Don't Need You: A Brother's Best Friend Romance (We Shouldn't Book 3) Page 2

  My cock throbs.

  I’d love to kiss that little jewel and let my hands sweep over her silken skin. Does it taste as good as it looks?

  I think my brain is oxygen starved, because all I can think about is the heat pooling between my legs and the fact that my pants are getting tighter by the second. I tear my eyes away from her and stare at Robbie, forcing myself to concentrate.

  “Roommate?”

  My friend gives me an awkward grimace. “I was going to talk to you about that, yeah.”

  “You’re unbelievable, Roberto,” Serena snaps. Her big, brown eyes open wide as her cheeks redden. “I should have known this would happen. You promised you’d ask. I planned the move around this!”

  “Look, Kit, I’m sorry to spring this on you. Serena’s moving to Woodvale early in the new year, and she needs somewhere to crash until she gets settled.”

  My eyebrows jump. “Oh.”

  Is this why he was asking me so many questions about Woodvale earlier?

  “It’s fine,” Serena says. “I’ll figure something else out.”

  “Serena.” Robbie gives her a loaded look.

  “You were supposed to ask him weeks ago, Robbie.”

  My eyes drag down to that little jewel again, and it’s hard for me to focus on anything else. The little purple stone glitters in her bellybutton. I can almost hear it calling my name, asking me to lay a soft kiss on top of it, and then trail my tongue a bit lower—

  I tear my eyes away from his sister’s stomach as Robbie gestures toward me. He sighs. “We don’t know each other that well. I thought maybe if he got to know you, maybe it would be easier to ask for a favor,” he says.

  “And you didn’t think to tell me?” Serena’s eyes blaze. She plants a hand on the curve of her hip, cocking it to the side. I watch the way her curls tremble as she huffs, wanting to wrap my fingers around her dark locks and tug. She shakes her head. “I just rushed over here with the grace of a fucking hippo and called him my roommate.”

  “Look, uh,” I interject. “Let’s just slow down. We’ll figure this out. You need somewhere to stay?”

  Serena swings her eyes to me, and I try not to stumble. Heat rips down my spine as her eyes settle on mine.

  “I’m in short-term parking,” she says, not answering my question. “We need to go.” She spins on her heels and starts walking. I follow, as if she has a meat hook sunk in my gut and is dragging me in her wake.

  Robbie grabs my arm, imploring me with his eyes. “I’m sorry, Kit. I didn’t know she’d be picking me up from the airport.”

  “It’s fine,” I lie.

  Do I really want some chick staying with me? No one’s stayed at my place, except for Esme—before she shacked up with Finn, of course.

  I’m supposed to just let Robbie’s sister crash at my place?

  My instinct is to recoil. To say no, to retreat, to push everyone away. Isn’t that what I’ve been doing for months? Years?

  I’ve been isolating myself. Protecting myself.

  Letting someone live with you means trusting them. Can I really trust Robbie, if he springs this on me with no warning?

  Can I trust Serena?

  But heat is still coiling in my stomach, and a big part of me doesn’t even care.

  No one mentions the elephant—or hippo, I guess—in the room as we drive through New Haven. Serena cranks the heat up and then blasts the volume on the radio, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. I sit in the back seat, stealing a glance at her profile every few seconds.

  She has the same sharp angularity as Robbie, but hers is softer. Her hair is wild as a lion’s mane, and my fingers itch to touch it. To bury my hands and face in her hair. Caress it then pull, just to see what her face does when I hold her hair tight behind her.

  “I have to stop at the bakery,” Serena says. “Mom asked me to get cannolis for tonight.”

  “That’s fine,” Robbie answers.

  Tension ripples through Serena’s shoulders. She’s gone from being bright and happy to mad. Furious, even.

  I get it. I know what it feels like to have someone say they’ll do something, then fail you. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re on your own all the time.

  We pull up outside an Italian bakery, the car jumping up on the curb as Serena parks. She doesn’t seem to mind. She hops out of the vehicle, leaving the keys in the ignition. “Back in five.”

  I watch her disappear through the bakery’s glass door as Robbie turns to look at me from the front seat. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “It’s fine. If she needs somewhere to stay, she can stay at my place. I’m never there, anyway.”

  Robbie’s shoulders drop as he lets out a relieved sigh. “This isn’t how I wanted to do this. I know I’m asking a lot. We’ve only known each other a few months, and—”

  “It’s fine,” I interrupt, shaking my head. “Really.”

  I can hardly believe the words that are coming out of my mouth, but then my eyes are drawn to the bakery door. Serena bursts through, holding a white box and licking cream off her finger. Is it possible to be jealous of a finger? Fire spears my gut like a sharp blade. She opens the passenger door and plonks the box on Robbie’s lap.

  “Hold those and be careful. Mom will kill me if I wreck them.” She slams the door and circles around the front of the car toward the driver’s side.

  Robbie glances over his shoulder at me, grinning. “Two dozen of us for the whole weekend. You think you can handle it?”

  “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

  Serena opens the driver’s side door and slides in, slamming it closed before clicking her seat belt on. She pushes the handbrake down and swerves back onto the road, accelerating fast as we head toward Robbie’s house.

  As Serena drops us on the sidewalk and drives away, I watch her leave. Heat still lingers in the pit of my stomach, and I wonder what exactly I’ve just gotten myself into.

  When we get inside, Robbie points to a door just off the living room. “Spare bedroom,” he says. He points down the hall. “Bathroom. You can take a shower before we head to my mom’s house.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yeah. Pre-Thanksgiving dinner with just the immediate family tonight, and then a full day at her place tomorrow with everyone.”

  I nod and wheel my bag into the room. I strip off my pilot’s jacket and hang it up in the closet, hooking my hat on the hangar with it. I loosen my tie and let out a sigh. When I head back into the living room, Robbie’s waiting.

  He pinches his lips together, his face serious. He sucks in a breath, gathering his courage. “Look, Kit, this isn’t how I saw this playing out with Serena. I feel like I should explain. My sister got a job at Woodvale Elementary. She’s going to be teaching third grade—the current teacher is going on maternity leave after Christmas. She doesn’t have a lot of money, and she really needs to get out of New Haven.”

  I frown. “Okay.”

  What does that mean? Why does she need to get out of here?

  Robbie doesn’t elaborate. He just rubs his jaw with the palm of his hand and lets out a sigh. “She only needs a place to crash for a few weeks. Just until she gets a couple of paychecks, you know? She’s going to be filling in for the teacher until next fall, and she’s hoping to get a permanent position. She doesn’t have much…”

  I nod. “I get it.”

  “Look, Kit…she’s my baby sister. Only by eight minutes, but still.” He grins, meeting my eye. “She’s always been the wild child in the family. Serena’s wanted to be a teacher since she was three. It would mean a lot to me.” He sucks in a breath, spreading his hands toward me. “She’s great. You’ll barely see her. It’ll only be for a short while—just until she can find her own place.”

  Robbie stares at me as if his entire existence hangs on my response, and I wonder if there’s something he’s not telling me. What did he mean when he said she needed to get out of here? I’ve never seen him this serious, and
there’s an undercurrent to his words I don’t understand.

  Still, do I have a choice?

  What kind of person would I be if I said no? I’m not even at my house half the time. I work four days on, three days off, and my four days on are spent at the staff accommodations next to the Sea-Tac Airport. It would be unreasonable to refuse. Plus, he’s been my only friend since I left the skydiving business, and he’s letting me stay at his place for the entire Thanksgiving weekend.

  And a small part of me—okay, okay. Fine. A big part of me—wants to know more about Serena. Would it really be that bad to have a beautiful, wild woman living with me for a few weeks?

  If it’s only a short time, and it’s doing my friend a favor, I guess there’s no harm in it, right?

  I force a tight smile. “It’s cool, Robbie. You’re the best friend I’ve had in a while, and I really don’t mind.”

  My friend lets out a breath, reaching over to put a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks, Kit. You’re a good man.”

  I nod, giving him a tight smile. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Just…” He pauses. “Don’t mention it, okay? The family doesn’t know she’s leaving.”

  I frown.

  “I can explain later,” Robbie says, and I know he doesn’t want me to ask any more questions.

  “Okay,” I answer slowly, even though unease tightens around my chest. “You’re not really one for being open and up-front about this whole thing, huh?”

  Robbie lets out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s complicated, Kit. But it’ll be fine once she moves. The family just takes a while to get used to change.”

  The family. He talks about them as if they’re one monolithic entity. I wonder what I’m getting myself into. Will I have a couple dozen Italians bursting through my door to drag Serena away from Woodvale?

  I nod, jerking my head toward the bathroom. Robbie takes a step back to let me through, giving me a tight smile. When I close the bathroom door behind me, I let out a sigh.

  This isn’t what I signed up for, but if I’m completely honest, I feel more excited than I have in months.

  2

  Serena

  Stupid Robbie and his stupid, scaredy-cat self. I should have known he wouldn’t have asked Kit about me staying with him. He’s always been afraid of confrontation. Prefers to be the happy-go-lucky guy who heaps all the tough conversations on everyone else.

  It’ll be fine, he kept telling me for weeks. Weeks! I took that as confirmation that he’d spoken to Kit about the whole crashing at his place situation.

  Right.

  Fine.

  You know what’s not fine? Me barging into the airport and calling Kit my future roommate, when he had no fucking idea what I was talking about.

  That’s not fine. That’s borderline psychotic. I turn the heat up higher as I speed away from my twin brother’s house, glancing in the rearview mirror.

  Kit is tall, and even as I speed away, something clutches at my chest. Heat seeps into my veins, settling somewhere between my thighs.

  My brother never mentioned Kit’s gorgeous. Out of this world. Strong jaw, broad shoulders, and ugh, that uniform. What is it about a man in a uniform? When I saw him at the airport, I had to hide behind the whole roommate schtick just to get over the fact that my core felt like it was on fire. I can still feel every stitch of clothing against my sensitive skin, especially the damp strip of cloth clinging to the space between my legs.

  Kit smells like wood smoke and pine. Spicy and comforting, safe and dangerous all at once. When I wrapped my arms around him in the airport, I wasn’t expecting to feel the heat emanating from his body.

  To someone who’s perpetually cold, it felt good. Too good, maybe.

  As I stop at a red light, I put my hand over the car’s air vent to try to warm up my frozen fingers. I know it’s pointless—I’m always cold—but it feels good. From the inside out, I’m frozen. My whole body is one solid block of ice.

  I wasn’t always like this. When I was young, they called me hot-headed. I had a fire burning inside me all the time. I could go outside in late November in a T-shirt and not even have goosebumps over my skin.

  Now?

  Frozen. Shivering. Wrapped in three layers of sweaters and still persistently glacial, right down to my cold, dead heart.

  When I get inside my apartment, I drop the box of cannolis on the table and pinch the bridge of my nose.

  I’m just embarrassed. Kit didn’t even seem that taken aback. He agreed to let me stay—but it’s the principle. What kind of first impression did I make? I’m supposed to live with the guy after an introduction like that?

  He probably thinks I’m some kind of maniac.

  Okay, I’ll admit. There was a tiny thrill in the depths of my belly when I saw Kit standing next to my brother. The way he looked at me made all my lady bits tingle, and not in an entirely innocent way.

  And when I hugged him? That smell still lingers around me, like it’s been etched in my memory after only a few moments near him. My lady bits went from tingling to straight up thumping with every beat of my heart.

  All I know is my gut clenched, and the thought of living in Kit’s house was suddenly a lot more exciting.

  Now, though?

  Fucking cringe.

  When I blurted out the word roommate, his face went from interested to horrified. I wanted to shove my foot in my mouth. Or Robbie’s, with a bit more force.

  I’m supposed to just spend all weekend with him and pretend I’m not mortified.

  Thanks, Robbie.

  I let out a sigh, standing in the middle of my apartment, trying to get a grip on myself. Sure, Kit’s attractive. There’s no denying that. He smells like man and looks like sex in a well-tailored uniform. His hands are broad, and they feel good splayed over my back. Or, I imagine, smacked across my ass cheek.

  That’s not why I need to stay with him, though. Sex should be the last thing on my mind, no matter how much he makes my thighs clench. I’m not supposed to be interested in men. Jumping into bed with anyone is a disaster waiting to happen. I should be chaste right now as I try to get my life back together.

  But life has a way of falling apart at every turn, doesn’t it?

  For example, right now, when the lock on my apartment door clicks. The door swings open, and the one man I never want to see again steps into my apartment. My space. My sanctuary.

  Angelo’s upper lip twitches and cold fear grips my spine. My ex-boyfriend has a mean temper, and he definitely shouldn’t have a key to my place.

  “What are you doing here?” My voice trembles more than it should as fear sends a shot of ice water rushing through my veins. “Give me that key.”

  “Nice to see you too, bella.” Angelo says the last word through clenched teeth. He steps into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

  “You need to leave.” I do my best to stand straighter, but fear makes me want to crumple. Somehow, my body feels colder, like it’s slowly being frozen in place by Angelo’s hateful stare.

  His lips curl so I can see his teeth. “I don’t need to do anything.”

  A tense silence stretches between us, and I cross my arms in front of my chest to hide the shaking in my hands. I wish he didn’t scare me so much, but I can’t help it. I’ve seen the way he gets when he’s like this. Angry. Vindictive. Territorial. I’ve had to patch up my walls four times from where his fist went through the drywall. I’m pretty sure every time he hit the walls and had plaster crumble around his fist, he was imagining me, instead.

  I’m definitely not getting my deposit back on this place.

  But hey, at least my face is still intact, right?

  “Serena.” Angelo sighs, letting his shoulders drop. His face softens, and I think his eyes fill with tears. “I made a mistake, baby.”

  “You cheated on me with a waitress at your restaurant. It’s over. It’s been over for months.”

  “If you leave me, I don’t know what I’ll do wit
h myself.” His eyes widen, and a hopeful smile twitches at his lips. “Who will cook dinner for me and take care of me now?”

  I cock an eyebrow. “Ask your mother. That’s what you wanted from me, isn’t it? Someone to wash your underwear, iron your socks, and cook your dinners like a good little housewife? Well, newsflash, Angelo, I’m not your mother, or your wife, or your little servant girl. Leave.”

  His smile drops, and the hardness returns to his eyes. “You’ll regret this.”

  The iciness in his voice makes terror rear up inside me. Every muscle in my body tightens, and the tension between us ratchets tighter. I can’t feel my fingers or toes, and my chest feels so tight I might pass out.

  “You need to go.” I wish my voice wouldn’t tremble so much.

  Angelo arches an eyebrow and takes a step toward me. I back up as my heart gallops away from me.

  This is why I need to get out of here. This is why I took a job on the other side of the country, even though the pay is shit and I know no one on the West Coast.

  The reason is standing right in front of me, clenching his fists as he advances.

  Angelo Berretti, stand-up community member, small business owner, and violent fucking drunk. And lucky fucking me, I was his high school sweetheart. I want to thank that waitress with all my heart for giving me a good reason to break up with him.

  He wasn’t always like this. Things changed about six years ago, when I got pregnant by accident. I went from his high school sweetheart to the woman who was trying to entrap him, and he became angry. He started drinking. Started saying hateful things to me that still echo in my brain after all these years.

  Then, I lost the baby, but Angelo kept his new personality. I thought he was grieving like me, but now I wonder if he just enjoys being cruel.

  Angelo’s eyes are cold. Hard. His jaw ticks. I watch his fists curl and uncurl, and my heart bangs against my ribs. Tendrils of cold snake through my veins, making it hard for me to back up. He’s pinning me to the ground as my body slowly freezes in place. What can I do? Angelo’s standing between me and the exit, and my phone is in my bag by the door.