Page 66 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

How do I tell him I already miss him, that whenever he’s not here, I'm still thinking about him?

I can't. So I just lean in a little closer. My body saying all the words my mouth can't.

He meets me halfway, his breath sweet and warm as he leans in, his eyes still not leaving mine.

And then he's so close, I feel like we're already touching...but we're not...

Just...a...little...closer...

"Xi-Xi! Are you out there?" Leon's voice cuts through the night loud and alarming, like a car horn.

We spring apart so fast, it's like a bandaid being ripped.

And it hurts just as much.

The look on Zachary's face is one of pure horror.

"Fuck!" he says, not even trying to lower his voice. "What am I doing?" He shakes his head.

"Alexia! It's almost midnight! Get those arms ready, little sis!" Leon's voice grows louder as he comes closer.

"Zachar—" I start, though I'm not sure what there is to say.

He holds his hands up, stopping me. “This...this never happened. He will fucking gut me. Please, Alexia. You can't⁠—"

I'm back to not being able to breathe. "It's fine...forget about it. Go!"

His face fills with relief. He turns to slip away, a shadow against the fence, glancing back at me for just a split second, but his back is to the light, and I can't make out his expression. Probably for the best, I don't think I could handle another memory of the horror on his face at the thought of kissing me.

"There you are," my brother says, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet.

"Hey," I say, forcing my face into a smile. "Having a good party?"

"Yup! With my sis and my guys." He slurs a little as he slings his arm around my shoulder. "You and me for life, right?"

All I can do is give him a tight smile, and let him pull me into his birthday hug.

SIXTEEN

Zachary

Present Day

The sun's barely up when I let myself in the back door just after seven a.m.

I'm either getting old, or something's taking more of a toll on me emotionally than I like to admit, because I feel like the wrung-out rag Priya insists on using to clean our specials board every night.

It doesn't help that on top of the tray of vodka sodas the new server spilled on me, I also had to climb into the spiderweb-infested attic for a box of sparklers for a spontaneous retirement party.

I do not smell good. I look even worse. And I feel like death warmed over.

I could blame it on staying back after a busy Tuesday night to do four hours of mind numbing paperwork, but who am I kidding? No, seriously — who? Because I know exactly why I hadn't jumped in the car the second I locked up Undertow and rushed home. Even though there was nothing in the world I wanted more.

"Well, well." Marcus's voice comes from the bathroom before I can make it to my room unnoticed. "Look what the cat dragged in at seven in the morning."

I stop. I know Marcus well enough to know it's better to just get this conversation over with than have it drag out for, possibly, days.

"The only thing that dragged anyone anywhere was the stack of insurance paperwork for the repairs," I say.