The WRONG Brother: A Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Love You Forever Book 1)
Page 4
“Working on the Chicago Cubs team is cool, but being a systems analyst is kind of boring. It’s all just a bunch of numbers and computer stuff, you know?”
I nod but don’t understand a thing about his job. Preston went to college for sports management after dislocating his shoulder playing football our senior year. He wasn’t ever super-serious about continuing to play in college, but I think part of him was hoping for a scholarship that would eventually take him to the NFL. When playing sports got thrown out the window, he went into sports management as a last resort to stay involved in sports even though he would never be a famous quarterback. I thought he loved his job, but it sounds like he just loves sports and wants to be involved however he can.
“And how’s Calvin doing with his new law office?”
He nods and takes a sip. “Good, as far as I know. We only talk about once a week and it’s rarely about work. I can tell you what he had for dinner last Thursday or that he just broke up with the woman he was seeing these last three months, but I don’t know anything about his office or how it’s going.”
I smile. “Yeah, Jake and I are the same way. He just moved from his apartment in Chicago to his new place in New York. He got a big promotion with the move and my parents are so proud of him. Kinda leaves me feeling a little like a failure.”
He studies my face. “You know that isn’t true, right?”
I shrug. “I mean, Jake is some bigwig in the insurance industry and I’m a columnist? Doesn’t really compare.”
“And my brother is a lawyer and all I do is play with computers. When you say it like that, there’s no comparison. But when I say I’m a systems analyst for the Chicago Cubs, it sounds a little better, don’t you think?”
I laugh and nod. “You got me there. But there isn’t any other way to say you’re a columnist . . .”
“You could say you’re the head writer for Wonder Home Magazine.” His blue eyes widen and his brows shoot up like he’s found the secret code.
I laugh. “But that isn’t true. I’m not the head writer. I’m a lowly columnist.”
He shrugs it off. “Maybe our bothers are the ones who need to get together. They’re both outshining us.”
I smile over at him. “You do realize my brother is married with a wife and three kids, right? I highly doubt there’s any chance of that happening.”
He looks offended that I shot down his idea. “You never know. He could still be hiding the truth from himself,” he jokes.
“When are you going back home?” I ask him.
“Monday morning. You?”
“Tomorrow. I have work on Monday. You need to bring Calvin by my place. I haven’t seen him in forever. Last Christmas, I think.” I wrinkle my nose as I try to think of the last time I saw him.
“You got the hots for my brother?” he jokingly asks.
I snort and roll my eyes. “Highly doubtful,” I laugh out and shrug. “The three of us haven’t been together since Christmas. And other than holidays, it’s been since, what, that spring break in Florida?”
He nods. “Yeah, I think so. He’s usually only ever home for holidays and family functions. But now that he’s in the city with us, we should all get together for old times’ sake. I’ll call him later and we’ll set something up.”
Preston, Calvin, and I used to hang out all the time before Calvin went off to college. If one of us went somewhere, we had the other two with us. My brother wasn’t ever really part of the gang though. My brother is 10 years older than me. By the time I was old enough to do things, he was already out of the house and living his own life. Preston always used to give me shit and say I was the midlife crisis baby, but really, I think I was the glue that held our family together. Dad was always at work and Jake was old enough to do this own thing. That left our mom lonely and in need of someone to care for. That’s where I came in. I’m the baby of the family and wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Wanna play some volleyball?”
I smile wide. “You know it!” I finish off my beer and jump up, grabbing the ball and taking off toward the net. I stand on one side while Preston stands on the other. I throw the ball up and pull back my right fist, serving the ball. It flies over the net. Preston jumps forward, bumping the ball back to me before falling into the sand on his chest and stomach.
I run across the sand and bump it back, wobbling on my legs as I slide on the sand, but I manage to stay upright. The ball soars to the other side of the net and Preston can’t get up in time. It lands on the sand only a few feet away from him.
“Ha! One-zero,” I gloat.
He rolls his eyes but stands up and brushes off some sand before picking up the ball and tossing it to me to serve again. For several minutes, we manage to keep the ball in the air, but we’re both hot, tired, and covered in sweat and sand. Someone has to give up or we’re both going to fall over from exhaustion. I tap the ball over the net and Preston is right there, ready to spike it back to me. It’s so fast, I don’t even see it coming. The next thing I know, the ball is smashing against my face and I find myself on my back in the hot sand, pain radiating from my nose. I feel something wet and reach up to touch it. I pull my hand away with blood on my fingertips.
“Oh, shit! Pipes, are you okay?” he asks, rushing under the net and stopping at my side. He grabs my arm and helps me as I try to sit up.
“Is it broken?” I ask in a nasally voice as tears roll down my cheeks from the pain.
He gets right in front of my face and looks at it. “I don’t think so. It’s not crooked or anything. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He takes my arm and pulls me to my feet.
He walks me back over to my chair and sits me down before handing me a napkin. “I’ll go find a baggie and we’ll get some ice on it so it doesn’t swell.”
I hold the napkin to my nose and lean my head back, trying to push past the pain.
Moments later, he’s back with a sandwich baggie. He opens the cooler and grabs a handful of ice. He zips it closed and hands it over. I take the bag of ice and hold it to my nose.
“I swear, if I have black eyes, I’m going to kill you,” I threaten.
He holds out a beer. “Peace offering?”
I take the beer roughly, snatching it out of his hand as I say, “Yes to the beer, no to the peace!”
He hangs his head. “I’m sorry. It was an accident. How about a hot dog?”
I crack open the beer and take a long drink, hoping the alcohol helps to numb the pain. “I want a hot dog and ice cream, and you have to do everything I say for the rest of the day. Deal?”
He laughs. “What? No way!”
“Then no peace for you.” I take another sip and turn my attention to the water.
“Ugh,” he groans. “Fine, my queen.” My queen is what I always made Calvin and him call me when we were little. This trick isn’t new. In fact, the two of them took turns being my royal servant throughout our childhood for various reasons, mostly because I got hurt in the middle of the boys’ roughhousing.
I turn to look at him with a smile, happy that he’s remembered this game so well. “That’s more like it. I’m getting hungry. I’ll take my wiener now,” I tease.
“I thought we agreed to call it a hot dog?”
“We did, but I’ve changed my mind and now you must also call it a wiener for the rest of the day.”
He stands and walks toward the snack stand, grumbling under his breath about hoping I choke on my wiener. I can’t do anything but drink my beer with a smile. And on the plus side, my nose has stopped bleeding already. Looks like I win this day!
I wonder if I could maybe use this to my advantage. Perhaps I could get a kiss out of the deal, but that would probably tell him the one thing I’ve never been able to bring myself to say and my secret would be ruined . . . probably along with our friendship.
No, I won’t out myself today, but I’m sure as shit going to take advantage of this situation. I smile to myself as he walks back over.
<
br /> He holds out his hand with his head bowed forward. “Your wiener, my queen.”
Four
PIPER
I eat my wiener and move on to strawberry ice cream in a waffle cone. I wash all of it down with more beer. Preston is acting as my gopher. He goes for bottled water I don’t drink, sunblock I don’t use, and a bag of cotton candy I don’t eat. I hate cotton candy. It’s sickly-sweet, sticky, and gross, but Preston doesn’t need to know that. He does everything without complaint—well, he mumbles under his breath as he’s walking away, but other than that, there’s no complaining.
The two of us sit on the beach, talking, tanning, and swimming when we get too hot. He cuts back on drinking because he’s too afraid to leave his car here overnight. So once again, I’m left drinking alone. By the time the sun is going down, I’m completely trashed and no help when it comes to picking up our belongings to leave.
Preston folds up his chair and I stand to do the same, but I can’t get it to fold. I push and push, but it’s not folding.
He laughs. “Get out of the way before you hurt yourself.” He steps up to the chair, pushes a couple little buttons, and it easily folds up. He grabs the cooler and chairs and walks them to his car while I stuff my things into my bag. I grab my pair of shorts and step one foot into them. As I lift the other foot, I lose my balance and fall over. Thanks to the tanning lotion, sand is stuck to the entire right side of my body.
He walks back over to me with a smirk. “Seriously, you can’t even dress yourself?”
“That’s none of your business. Maybe this is how I get dressed every morning,” I say, getting up on my feet and tugging my shorts into place.
He chuckles. “It probably is. Everyone knows you’re not the most graceful person on the planet.” He grabs the blanket up off the ground and it sends bits of sand in every direction, only covering me further.
At this point, what does it even matter? I’m pretty sure I have sand where the sun doesn’t shine, but at least the ordeal has resulted in a nice tan. And maybe some black eyes. I’ve been too afraid to look.
We make the journey back to the car and I fall into the passenger seat, completely exhausted from the sun and drinking all day. Not to mention, having a hangover and not enough sleep. He climbs behind the wheel and starts up the car.
“Your mom is going to hate me if I keep bringing you home drunk,” he laughs out.
I wave off his concerns. “Again, at least we didn’t get arrested,” I point out. No matter what we do, as long as we don’t get arrested, we’re doing well. At least in her eyes.
Traffic is heavy on the ride home and we’re moving at a snail’s pace. I’m tempted to grab another beer out of the cooler in the back seat, but Preston already told me he’d break my fingers if I tried. He said we’re too close to home to get arrested for having an open container in a moving vehicle.
His phone rings and Calvin’s name pops up on the car display.
“Hey, man. What’s up?” Preston answers by pushing a button on the steering wheel.
“Hi, Calvin!” I scream.
Calvin lets out a deep, raspy chuckle that has my stomach tightening. What was that? I’ve never had that tingling from Calvin before.
“Hey, Piper. You sound wasted. My brother being a bad influence again?”
“Hey, I’ve been good this weekend. It’s Piper who’s the bad influence. She’s been drunk all weekend.”
My mouth drops open as my eyes widen at him. How dare he throw me under the bus! He’s the one providing the alcohol!
“Only because you insisted,” I point out.
Calvin laughs. “You two seriously need a leash, you know that? It’s like the blind leading the blind.”
I shrug and Preston tilts his head to the side like he’s considering Calvin’s words.
“Anyway, I just wanted to see what you two were up to tonight. I don’t have any work to do and all my buddies went on a whitewater rafting trip without me because I had a business dinner, which just fell through. I’m on my way home if you want to hang out.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. We’re leaving the beach now. How far out are you?” Preston asks.
“About an hour,” Calvin answers.
“That gives us just enough time to get cleaned up. We’ll have dinner and find some kind of trouble to get into,” Preston says, smiling at me.
“Pres, I’m a lawyer. My troublemaking days are over. But dinner sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit.” Without a goodbye, he hangs up.
I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly feeling awkward about seeing Calvin again. And what was that tingle that came over me when I heard him laugh? Calvin has always been good-looking, and by good-looking I mean he’s drop-dead sexy just like Preston. The Young men are luckier than most and their genes are amazing. I guess I just never saw Calvin that way because he was so much older than us. He’s only four years older, but growing up, that may as well have been a lifetime. He was leaving high school just as we were getting started.
He and Preston look a lot alike. They both have dark hair and icy blue eyes. Calvin is just a little taller than Preston though, and he’s more cut than bulky when it comes to muscles. Calvin is more lean and cut where Preston is thicker.
The thing that always had me on team Preston, though, was how differently they acted. Preston is wild and free and always down to have fun despite the cost. Calvin is more responsible. He never does anything without giving it serious thought and making a pros and cons list. Preston grows out his beard, goes months without a haircut, and dresses in whatever he grabs in the morning. Calvin wears expensive suits, always keeps his facial hair trimmed low to the skin, and his dark hair is always neatly styled. One brother is always lax and chill while the other is uptight and serious. Clearly, I’ve always leaned toward relaxing and having fun.
I’ve been so lost in my mental comparison of Preston and Calvin that I didn’t realize we were already pulling into Preston’s parents’ driveway. He looks over at me and his brows pull together. “Are you sick? You look a little funny.”
I wipe the expression off my face. Sick. Yes, I’m feeling sick! I think I just got turned on by Calvin’s laugh! I need to get away from him before he figures this out. “I’m fine. I’m going to go shower.” I quickly get out of the car before heading across the street to my parents’ house.
I speed walk straight to the front door. Once I step inside and close it behind me, I lean my back against it while I catch my breath. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s probably just a little mix of confusion due to drinking all day, getting hit in the face with a volleyball, and too much sun. Hell, maybe I have a concussion.
I hear my mom banging around in another room, so I walk through the living room to the kitchen, where she’s loading the dishwasher.
She looks up at me and smiles. “Hey, hon. How was the beach?”
“Preston drilled me in the face with a volleyball he spiked at me. You think I have a concussion or a broken nose?”
She steps closer, looking over my face carefully. After a moment of staring into my eyes, she says, “I think you’ll survive. I have some really good foundation that should cover that black eye though.”
Black eye? I take off running toward my room. I push open the door and come to a sudden stop in front of the mirror hanging above my dresser. I lean forward, needing a closer look. My eyes are bloodshot and glassy—probably from drinking—and there are dark circles under them from a lack of rest and water, but I don’t see a black eye. I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Ha! Gotcha!” Mom yells up.
I roll my eyes and shake my head. What’s wrong with my family?
I close my bedroom door and head for the bathroom to wash the sand out of a place that should never be sandy.
An hour later, I’m showered, dressed, and have my hair and makeup done perfectly. I’ve forced myself to drink plenty of water and am finally starting to feel like a living member of society again rather tha
n some drunk alley rat.
I stand back and look myself over in the mirror. I have no idea what kind of night Preston is planning for the three of us, but I know I want to look good. I don’t want to dress for a baseball game only to be taken to a nice restaurant two towns over, so I think the summer dress I picked out will work for any situation. It’ll be cool if we go to any outside event, but it still looks nice and dressy if we go someplace a little more fancy. The summer dress is white and made out of layered lace. It’s form-fitting and ends a little above my knee. I’ve paired the dress with a pair of sandals and left my hair hanging down my back in soft curls.
I didn’t want to cake my face with makeup just to sweat it off if we’ll be outside, so all I’m wearing is a little lip gloss and mascara. The sun I got today did wonders for my no-makeup look. My cheeks are slightly pink from spending the day on the beach, and my skin is slightly darker, making me look fresh and well-rested.
My phone chimes from the bed and I quickly grab it to read the screen. We’re ready to go. Get your ass over here.
I roll my eyes with a smile and tuck my phone into a small purse before starting toward the door. As I’m walking across the street toward Preston’s car, the two of them come walking out of the house. I nearly stop in my tracks when I see them. Oh, what girl wouldn’t fantasize about having both of them? Preston is dressed in dark wash jeans and a fitted blue T-shirt. He’s wearing his Cubs hat that shades his blue eyes, and he hasn’t touched that dark scruff on his jaw. My mouth waters.
Calvin isn’t dressed in his usual suit. He’s wearing a pair of jeans that hug his narrow hips nicely. He’s wearing a white T-shirt that doesn’t fit as tightly as Preston’s. What I notice most, though, is his red Cardinals hat.