Falling for My Brother's Best Friend

Chapter two

Riley.

While I stand in the aisle of the plane waiting for everyone to disembark, I pull my phone from my pocket and turn off airplane mode. I sigh in frustration; Liam has called me over fifty times. Why can’t he get the hint that I don’t want to speak to him?

I have nothing more to say. My leaving makes everything clear—he messed up, not me. He decided to get involved with someone else, and he can keep doing that. I don’t care anymore. My heart may be soft, but I won’t allow anyone to push me around or hurt me like he has.

A woman with her baby steps in front of me. Being polite, I decide not to say anything, but she looks flustered; it must have been a long flight for her.

The line starts to move just as my phone rings again. This time, it’s my brother Jackson. A smile spreads across my lips, and without hesitation, I press the green button to answer.

“Rye,” he says, and the sound of his voice calms me, with all the stress from the day drifting away.

“Hi, Jack,” I respond as I walk through the door that leads into the tunnel.

“Since you answered my call, I’m guessing you’ve landed.”

I let out a small laugh. “Yes, I have, and in one piece.”

“Well, good, because I’ve been waiting outside this damn airport for the last five hours.”

Five hours. I shake my head; that’s my brother—always wanting to be early for me. It wasn’t always this way. As kids, we were always at each other’s throats, especially when it came to things we wanted. If he had a PlayStation, I wanted it. If Mom brought me something, he had to have something, too. The amount of temper tantrums he had was ridiculous. Sometimes, he even got me in trouble, with Mom taking his side while Dad took mine.

But now that we are adults, our relationship is much better. Thankfully, he can still get on my nerves sometimes, especially with his protective nature. That’s what worries me about telling him about Liam; I know he’s going to lose his mind.

“You didn’t need to pick me up, Jack. I could have taken an Uber to Mom’s.”

He chuckles. “You do realize it’s one in the morning? That means Mom and Dad are asleep. Besides, what kind of brother would I be if I made you get a taxi alone? You know I don’t mind coming to get you.”

Oh crap, I didn’t think about what time it would be when I landed. I should have probably booked a hotel; however, I’m sure Jackson won’t mind me staying with him for the night.

“Hello? Earth to Riley.”

“Huh? Yeah, sorry, I’m still here.”

The line is silent for a moment before he finally says what I was hoping he wouldn’t: “Something happened, didn’t it?”

I can never hide anything from him. We are so in tune that I’m sure he would know something was wrong before I even reached out to him. But what do I tell him?

Pulling my lower lip into my mouth, I say, “Can we talk about it when we get to your house? It’s not important at the moment.”

I hear him take a deep breath before exhaling into the phone. “Fine, but don’t lie to me about it when I ask again.”

I roll my eyes as I make my way to the exit. “Okay, big brother, always so bossy. You know, I thought I would be used to it by now, but unfortunately, I’m not.”

I hear a low chuckle before the line goes dead. Then I understand why—right outside the doors is his black Nissan, patiently waiting for me, and leaning against the trunk in all his 6-foot-2 glory is my brother.

Once my eyes meet his, all my sadness fades away, and I feel a surge of happiness replace it. Letting go of my suitcase, I run towards him instinctively. His arms open wide for me, and I crash into his solid body, burying my face in his chest and closing my eyes.

His lips press against my hair, and then he says, “It’s good to finally have you home. We’ve missed you.”

They have no idea just how much I’ve missed them too. Last year, I couldn’t come because Liam was ill, and I didn’t want to leave him alone. Now, I feel like a complete jerk. What if they think I abandoned them? That I didn’t care when I do? No, Riley, stop it! You're being stupid. Inhaling deeply, I step out of his embrace and smile up at him. “I forgot how cold it is in London.”

He laughs while placing his arm around my shoulders. “Yep, good old London. It never changes. Every November, you’re sure to get the flu.”

I groan loudly as he opens the passenger side door for me to step inside. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you your favorite when we get home.”

Excitement blooms in my chest because he's talking about our tradition during November and December—hot chocolate made with hot milk, cocoa powder, topped off with whipped cream, marshmallows, and we can’t forget the chocolate sprinkles.

That’s the way to my heart; it’s my favorite. But the only time I get to have it is when I visit. Liam never liked it, so I never brought it. He was boring, and I went along with it because I was blind— but I'm not anymore; my eyes are wide open.

As I shut my door, I watch him grab my suitcase, which I abandoned at the entrance of the airport, and place it in the back. Then he climbs inside, starts the engine, and cranks the heater to full before driving away.

I didn’t realize how cold I actually was because I begin to shiver at the warmth of the heater.

As we make our way out of the airport and onto the motorway, I rub my hands together, holding them in front of the heater. “How have Mom and Dad been?”

He glances at me, then back at the road. “Mom's fine, and Dad…” he pauses.

Oh no, what has he done now? “Dad what?” I demand, worry evident in my tone.

He lets out a sigh as he takes a right turn. “He was trying to get the decorations from the attic and managed to miss a step on the ladder and fell on his arm.”

“WHAT!!! Is he okay?”

Grabbing my hand, he rubs a soothing circle with his thumb. “Calm down, Rye. He’s okay; just a broken arm. He’ll get the cast off in about three weeks.”

With my left hand that's free, I rub my forehead. My dad is always the one to never ask for help, even when he really needs it. The amount of times he's broken something or cut himself doing a project is countless. He’s so clumsy, but he’s a proud man and wants to do things himself, even at his age.

“He is so stubborn,” I mutter, reminding myself to give him a lecture tomorrow. I don’t need him in a hospital bed.

“Where do you think you get it from?”

I slap his arm. “I am not stubborn.”

He raises a brow at me. “Oh no? Then why are you not telling me the secret you’re so desperate to hide from me?”

With that, my good mood vanishes, the reminder pulling me back into the sadness I felt before seeing Jackson.

Lowering my head, I play with the hem of my top and choose to remain silent. Thankfully, Jackson doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride.

When we arrive at his home, I grab my case before he can and stand by as he opens the door. Without me having to ask, he tells me I have the room upstairs to the right.

I remain quiet as I make my way upstairs. Once inside, I leave the case by the door, lock it, and slide down the frame. Finally, the situation catches up to me, and I let everything out.

The cry I wanted to release back in Chicago escapes my lips, and I cover my mouth with my hand. It’s ugly and raw. I didn’t want to cry; I wanted to be happy and forget about it all. But I know if I’m going to talk to Jackson about this, I need to clear everything out of my system first.

Wrapping my arms around my legs, I bury my face in my knees and let the tears fall. A knock on the door behind me startles me. I stand up quickly, wiping my eyes before looking in the mirror.

Oh God, I can’t open the door like this—my eyes and nose are red, and my lip is still trembling with the threat of more tears.

Damn you, Liam Reed. Look what you’ve done to me. Deciding the façade is up, I reach for the lock and open the door slowly. But it’s not Jackson, as I expected; instead, it's Stacy, his wife.

She greets me with a soft smile. “Are you okay, honey?”

Stacy and my brother have been married for ten years; they have two beautiful kids together and are so in love. Ever since I met her, we’ve gotten along well. No matter if we disagree, we always remain nice to each other. She’s like the sister I never had, and she’s always offered good advice, no matter the topic.

Biting my lower lip, I nod my head before turning around and flopping down on the bed. Leaning my elbow on my knee, I place my head in my hand and say, “Liam cheated on me with his assistant.”

She falls quiet as she comes inside and shuts the door, her feet shuffling along the cream carpet. She takes a seat next to me, placing her hand on my shoulder.

“He was never good enough for you, Rye. I could tell he was a dirtbag from the start, but you were so happy, and I didn’t want to ruin that for you.”

It seems I was the only one who was blind; I couldn’t see anything about that man. I had love goggles on—I'm so stupid.

Covering my eyes, I begin to cry again. "What do I do now? I have no home, no job. I gave up everything for that man, and it’s all just backfired."

Her warm hands grab my wrists and gently pull them away from my face. Her hands are soft and warm as she places them against my cheeks. "You always have somewhere to stay. I will help you. You’re not alone in this. The first thing we’ll do is call a lawyer to request divorce papers and go from there. You will not let this man make you cry anymore. You’re beautiful and deserve more than this."

I laugh bitterly. "Yeah, right. If I was so beautiful, he would have never gone somewhere else for his pleasure."

"Like I said, he’s a dirt bag now," she replies, getting up from the bed. "Wipe your eyes, change into something more comfortable, and I’ll be waiting downstairs for you."

I would rather be alone right now, but I’m a guest in their home, and I don’t want to be disrespectful, even if they are my family. So, I do as she says. Going back into the bathroom, I look in the mirror once more, grab a washcloth, rinse it under warm water, and press it against my face.

Just as I’m getting my toothbrush and a pair of fluffy pyjamas, I hear “I’m going to f*****g kill him” "Great," she told him. "At least I don’t have to explain everything now.”

“Shh,” she said. “Keep it down; the kids are asleep.”

I heard a sigh and could picture Stacy rubbing my brother’s shoulders to calm him down. "She’s okay, baby, but we need to be here for her and not lose it over some lowlife. He isn’t worth it. She will get her revenge another way."

It went quiet after that, so I finished what I had started, then headed downstairs into the living room, where I found my sister-in-law and my brother sitting together with three mugs on the coffee table.

He reached for the mug with the reindeer, its nose glowing red like Rudolph. Taking it from his hands, I placed it by my nose, took a big sniff, and closed my eyes in satisfaction. I whispered, “Thank you.”

“Come take a seat, Riley,” he commanded, tapping the spot next to him.

“I don’t like that I can’t do something about this. I can’t go and smash his teeth down his throat because my wife won't let me. He hurt my little sister, and it kills me that I have to sit back and leave it be,” he let out a sigh when he noticed my sad face.

Grabbing my hand, he said slowly, “But you have somewhere to stay until you are back on your feet, I hope. You will be staying in London and not going back to Chicago.”

Of course, I’m not going back; I have nothing there for me anymore. I never did. It was all his, not mine. I shook my head as I took a sip of my drink.

He nodded and patted the back of my hand. “Good, I’m glad to hear it because six years of not teasing you has been killing me.”

He never fails to make me laugh. It’s nice to know I have them by my side through all of this. “Just don’t tell Mom and Dad just yet; I’m not ready for them to know. You know what Mom’s like—she will say, ‘I told you so.’”

She tried telling me before my wedding about a bad feeling she had, but I took it as her being a protective mother because my dad never said anything to me.

I never got mad at her because that’s what parents are like, right? They just want to keep their kids safe and happy. I reassured her, and I know if I tell them now, she will give me that look she always has when she’s right about something, and I can’t deal with that right now.

Don’t get me wrong; she’s an amazing mother, but sometimes she can be a little too open with her opinions.

Even though I would like to go to bed and sleep off the nightmare of a day I had, it would be rude. So, I catch up with them for a while and find out that my niece Mia, who is four years old, is in a Christmas school play in the role of Mary.

The smile I gave was genuine. I love my niece and nephew; I’ve missed them just as much. Nathan, who is six and going for his yellow belt in judo.

I’m such a proud auntie of these two kiddos, and that’s why when I go up to bed, it’s with a genuine smile..