Page 91 of Secret Baby for My Brother's Best Friends

I smirk. "Hazel's twenty-eight now and married, but at a point she was sixteen with an absolute tool for a boyfriend, one that I threatened and tried to drive away every chance I could. To me, he was totally the wrong guy for her. Tattoos, smoked pot every now and then, hung out with total idiots, too. Didn't know what my smart sister even saw in him, and I was convinced he was going to get her pregnant and ruin her life."

"This isn't the same–"

"Just let me finish," I interrupt before he can say more. "It wasn't until I woke up one morning and found her gone that it hitme. For a second, I thought she had run away with him. As it turned out, she was taking him to visit the college she would be attending, because they were going to live together while there. He wasn't going to college, but he said he would find a job and 'support them'. I didn't buy it. I put my foot down. Told her that it wasn't going to happen and told him I was gonna kick his ass for even putting that idea in her head. To his credit, the kid didn't cower. He actually squared up and everything. Then she stepped between us and told me that if I asked her to choose between the two of us, I wasn't going to like her answer." I shake my head. "That was a wake-up call. To think that she would actually choose that idiot over her family when all I wanted to do was look out for her; it was a punch in the face. I was salty about it for a hot minute, then I realized my mistake. I'd gone overboard with trying to protect her, and became an overbearing asshole who didn't allow her to make her own decisions and made her feel like she had to sneak around and do shit behind my back because I refused to acknowledge that she wasn't a little girl anymore. She was growing up and becoming her own person, but I wasn't letting her be that. I was stifling her. Also, ironically, my antagonism towards the kid only drove them even closer together. My fighting him every time he came around, and him standing up to me, only served to make him more intriguing to her, and it inadvertently pushed him into her arms because there's nothing teenagers like doing more than rebelling."

I meet his eyes, noting that he's finally listening to me, albeit reluctantly, although I don't know how much of this he's actually digesting, and if he's actually going to swing at me when I get close.

"Chelsea is not a teenager," I say. "She's a grown woman, and I get that you want to protect her, but attempting to forbid her from dating people isn't the way to go about it.”

"I didn't forbid her. I forbadeyou. Because you're supposed to be my fucking friend and respect the bro code."

I almost laugh at the bro code line, but then I realize he's serious. "Bro code? Seriously, are we sixteen?"

He throws his hands up with exasperation. "So I should let it happen, huh? That’s what you’re telling me?"

"No, I'm telling you it's not within your power to 'let' anything happen. I like her. She likes me. Sure, it probably sucks for you, and I hate that, but know that I would never hurt her. All you can do is trust that she's making the right decision, here."

"Do you realize that she’s still recovering from a break up? That an asshole shattered her heart into pieces, and I had to watch her cry over that bastard.”

Just the thought of it makes me clench my jaw. “I’m not him.”

“No, but you could be worse. Adam, I’ve never seen you actually date a woman since college. You just fuck 'em and move on.”

“They fuck me and move on too,” I remind him. “I’ve never lied to anyone and never led anyone on. Every single one of those women knew the score. We were fucking, that's it. I never took anyone on a date so as not to give mixed signals. Didn't text apart from the occasional catching up text. And I’ve never cheated on anyone either, so don't ever compare me to that fucker she used to date." Just thinking about it gets me heated in irrational ways. I can't believe a guy like that was even allowed to be around her, was allowed to be in her presence, and take advantage of her like that.

Fucker.

James struggles to swallow that, and it takes him a second to get it down.

He blows out a frustrated breath, brushing his hands over his face.

“Why her?” he asks. “There are so many women in this city, bro, and I bet half of them are in love with you. Why did it have to be my sister? And don't tell them you have feelings for her because I’m not sure I’m going to believe you.”

He's right. I'm not in love with her, but somehow his statement still rubs me the wrong way. "Why not?'

“Because she’s not your usual type."

"What the fuck do you know about my usual type?" I'm usually discreet with my lovers, and it's not like James, and I sit around sharing notes either.

"I mean, she’s not some blonde bombshell who knows the score as you’ve so nicely put it. She’s not the worldly type. She wears her heart on her sleeve. She pretends to be tough, but she’s really sensitive, and I just…I don't want her hurt."

“I’m not planning on hurting her,” I tell him, quietly. “Look, I like her. A lot. The only reason I'm here right now, and we're having this conversation, is because of how much I like her. I tried to stay away from her out of respect for you, but I just couldn’t. I’ve never felt like this with anyone before."

It shocks me to realize it, because it's the truth. I feel something for Chelsea that I've never felt with any other woman.

Doubt reflects in his face, but it slowly fades. “Are you serious?”

Yes,” I say, and he stares at me for the longest time as though trying to fish out the deceit from my sentiment. And then his gaze passes over my shoulder to let me know, before I turn around, that she’s there too, staring at me.

She is indeed leaning by the entrance, staring right at me with a fathomless gaze that makes something in my chest jump.

I wonder when she got there, and how much of that she heard.

“You like him too?” James asks.

She looks at me, her expression soft and welcoming, and the jumping becomes a squeezing so tight when she smiles.

I've never seen anyone so radiant before. Never.