He’s my brother’s best friend.
Which makes me off limits.
My brother made that clear to all his friends the summer I turned fourteen.
That didn’t stop me from falling in love with him. From dreaming about sharing my future with him. From wondering what it would be like to be with him.
It didn’t stop the heated looks he’d send me when no one was paying attention. Or how he always found a way to be near me, to touch me. To protect me.
For six years we fought against the waves of desire but the current kept pushing us toward one another.
Then I had him.
We collided with hurricane force. Our connection… explosive. It felt right, being with him. With the first kiss, I gave him my heart. With the first touch, I gave him my body. When I saw the love in his eyes, I handed over my soul.
I should have known it was too good to last, though. The next morning, he was gone, and my heart shattered. I left it on his bedroom floor as I did the walk of shame.
It’s been nine months since I laid eyes on him.
Yes, I’ve been avoiding this moment. But I can do this. I can fight my attraction for one night. Even if the moment I see him again, I know that night is going to come rushing back to me, along with the days and weeks of agony that followed.
Because he still owns every piece of me.