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“I managed to spill my entire bag of groceries.” Whew, he hadn’t seen my new neighbor—and why was I feeling guilty about that?
He chuckled. “That’s unfortunate. Looks like Mr. Holloway is going to be making some money off you today.”
“I’m hoping some bleach will work.”
“You know the man can tell the difference between shades of white. Goodness, you said so yourself that he picked three different shades of white for this place and drove the contractors crazy.”
I felt my shoulders droop. “You’re right.” I turned to see the damage and realized there was no way I’d ever be able to cover this mess up.
Brandon placed a hand on my arm and turned me around to face him. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I just don’t think the extra effort you want to put in is worth the time and hassle.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” The warmth of his hand was excruciating; I wanted him to wrap his whole arm around me. I shook my head. “Ready to get some work done tonight?” I asked, pointing to my place.
“Of course. I brought dinner,” he said, holding up a bag of what smelled like spaghetti and meatballs with his other hand.
“From Luigi’s?”
“Only the best.”
His hand on my arm had lightened. “That’s fantastic.” I took the opportunity to walk away so his hand was no longer burning a hole into my arm. He gave a scowl when I pulled away, but I mentally high-fived myself for keeping my cool.
We went into my place and caught up on the day while slurping noodles. It was the best spaghetti and meatballs around, and Luigi always gave us extra meatballs.
Luigi was like a grandfather to the two of us. Brandon and I met at Luigi’s when Brandon was a waiter there. We found out we were both studying law at Crystal Lake University. The very next semester, we started taking the same classes together and began hanging out at Luigi’s to eat and study. Luigi gave us one of the private rooms to work in, and it was always the highlight of my day when I got to sit back there with Brandon and shut out the rest of the world.
Over the years, I’d wondered if Luigi had left us alone on purpose. I’d definitely taken advantage of the opportunity that private room offered and had tried to get to know Brandon as much as I could. I’d thought the feeling was mutual. Although, as I looked across my small breakfast table and watched the man I loved eating meatballs, my heart ached at knowing the feelings I had for him were all one-sided. The one time we went on a date—at least, I’d thought it was an official date—I’d believed he would kiss me, and that after that first kiss, we would go on more dates and live happily ever after . . . until the dream shattered at the end of the night when he said the words: “I love you like a sister.”
Those words would forever rattle in my brain. It wasn’t the first time he’d said them to me, either. In college, I had kissed him on the cheek after a dance, and he had said, “I’m so glad to have you in my life,” to which my heart soared—until he followed it up with: “You’re like a sister to me.” Any sane girl would leave him alone after that. Why torture yourself when the guy wasn’t interested? But not me. I couldn’t get enough of Brandon. I dreamed about a future with him and missed his presence when he wasn’t around. Hence, instead of leaving the area after law school and finding a job elsewhere, I went to the same company as he did, just so I had an excuse to be close to him. How pitiful could I get?
We’d been working together now for almost two years. I had to admit I secretly hoped Brandon would have woken up by now and realized how much I meant to him, but no such luck. And yet, there was something about him that still drew me to him. I couldn’t explain it, and it drove me crazy. All I wanted was to be done with him and move on, but whatever it was about him that had a hold on me just wouldn't let go.
Brandon
Becca really wasthe most beautiful girl, both inside and out. That was cheesy but so true. I’d give her the world if I could have her, but what we had right now—a mutual friendship—was all I could allow.
Her hand grazed mine—for the third time—and each time we touched it felt like a lightning bolt shot right through to my core. I held my breath, hoping it wasn’t obvious how much her touch affected me.
“Sorry, I’m looking for Rich’s paperwork,” Becca said, shuffling some papers next to me.
A huff came out of her. I looked up from my work, my gaze latching onto her pouty red lips. They matched the red hair cascading down her back. My fingers itched to reach out and touch those fiery strands. I twirled my pen to avoid balling my hand up into a fist.
Oblivious to my thoughts, Becca asked, “Have you finalized the paperwork on Rich yet? I can’t find it anywhere.”
“Almost.” Darn, I thought she’d trust me to get it done and not worry about it.
“Almost? It’s been a month since Jill left.”
“Yeah, I know. I just need to get Rich himself to sign it.”
“I thought—”
“He’s been hard to get ahold of.” Not a complete lie. He’d called a couple of times, and I had ignored them. I was still fuming from the knowledge that Rich was Pac. I’d now wronged two of the women I loved the most—my sister and Becca. This time, my hands did ball into fists, because the memory of Sandy getting attacked by Pac while she was looking after me as a pup flashed through my mind. That image was soon followed by the remembered sound of my nose breaking when Pac knocked me out. I felt my eyes close, and my head started drooping into my hands.
“Brandon!”
Becca’s small, warm hands squeezed my shoulders, immediately erasing the memories, and I looked up into her startling, bright hazel eyes. “I’m okay.” I put on my best smile to wipe the worry off her face. “I’m just tired.”
“Okay.” But she didn’t sound sure about that and lingered next to me a minute more.
