Page 4 of Wrong Number, Right Grumpy Brother’s Best Friend

I let out a grumpy denial, though if the circumstances called for it, I would grovel. But only for her.

“Is he still watching?”

I don’t check. I could care less if the bastard’s flipping us the bird, let alone watching us.

She pulls at the corner of her bottom lip, gripping it with her teeth, fretting over something that no longer matters. “Just in case,” she says.

I barely have time to figure out what she means before she turns into me, catches the front of my shirt in her fist, and presses her lips to mine.

For half a second, I’m too damn stunned to react. It’s quick, barely more than the warm press of her mouth against mine. A kiss for show for an audience of one, before she starts to pull away.

Like hell.

My hand slides around her waist, and I pull her back, catching her mouth before she gets more than an inch away. Her surprised breath warms my lips, and my better judgment gets sidelined. I lean into the kiss, tilting my head as her fingers tighten in my shirt, her lips and body softening beneath mine.

There’s nothing fake about it now. All the heat that’s simmered beneath every argument we’ve ever had comes rushing to the surface. She presses closer, and I forget about every damn reason this isn’t a good idea.

When we finally break for air, our eyes lock. Hers wide and innocent, lips parted as she stares up at me. Her fist still tangled in my shirt, my hands firmly around her waist. And my only regret is that we’re standing in the middle of a damn parking lot instead of somewhere private.

But for one solitary moment, I get the girl.

CHAPTER THREE

Lynn

“And then he walked me to my car.” I stuff a fry into my mouth, feeling weird about saying more. The breakroom at Green with Envy is a little too public for the things I’ve been mulling over after last night.

How do I explain the funny way my stomach flip-flopped when I slammed into Brian’s chest. Sure, it was a bit jarring, but after the initial surprise, it felt oddly satisfying. And that silly arm flex of his... that’s got to be a guy thing, but I kind of liked that I caused that kind of reaction.

And that kiss. I can’t even go there.

It was a spur of the moment thing. I barely gave it a thought, if any at all, until Brian put his hands on me. It wasn’t nothing. It was a heart racing, lungs burning, body melting kiss of the ages. And I ruined it.

He’s gone.

Guilt prickles at my gut. Of all the idiotic things to say after a kiss like that. As if my botched date watching even mattered. Honestly, I have no idea if he was or not. All that mattered was that my body was tingling after locking lips with the man who knew all my faults. And I’d just given him more ammunition.

The last I saw of Brian, he was standing in the parking lot, raking a hand through his hair as I drove away. I’ve replayed that part almost as many times as the kiss.

I’m always running away, but that’s safer than imagining Brian felt the same heat that I did.

Briar sits across from me with the remains of her sandwich spread open on its wrapper. “Hmm.” She clamps her lips into a thin line, giving me a look.

I know that look. It isn’t nothing. She knows me well enough to know I left out a few details.

I stop chewing. “What?”

“Nothing.” Briar lets the silence hang between us for another few seconds before reaching for a chip. “So, I’m guessing there’s no chance at the job or a second date with the creep.”

“He wasn’t exactly a creep.” I pick through my fries, searching for one that isn’t soggy. “Ill-mannered, yes. Too many red flags to stick around.”

The breakroom door swings open before I can say anything else. Daisy stops short when she sees us sitting at the table.

“Oops. Didn’t know anyone was in here.” She crosses to the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of water. “Just grabbing this.”

Briar gives her a little wave, and Daisy disappears as quickly as she arrived. The door shuts behind her, leaving us alone again.

I drag a fry through the puddle of ketchup on my wrapper. “Last night did get me thinking about something, though.”