Crazy Stupid Bromance

by Lyssa Kay Adams

  Noah shoved his hands deep in the pocket of his fleece. “Where are we meeting her?”

  “The hotel bar.”

  “She alone?”

  “I think so.”

  The elevator opened into a marble-floored hallway. Noah pressed his hand to the small of her back as they walked out. Her muscles twitched beneath his fingertips, but she didn’t try to move from his touch. His heart kicked again.

  “Over there,” she said, pointing to a darkened corner where a hostess stood beneath a sign bearing the bar’s name.

  Noah looked down at Alexis. “The Bluegrass Grill?”

  Her eyes turned sarcastic. “It’s like they just gave up.”

  “Do you think there will be banjos on the walls?”

  “And drinks named after Waylon Jennings songs.”

  Noah ushered her forward, hand still on her back. “First person to spot the Willie Nelson picture wins.”

  The brief banter seemed to relax her, because her muscles softened beneath his fingertips.

  The lobby bustled with bleary-eyed travelers dragging heavy suitcases and the remnants of last night’s bad decisions.

  The hostess smiled as they approached. “How many?”

  “We’re meeting someone at the bar,” Noah said.

  The hostess directed them to the center of the restaurant, where a circular bar on a raised platform glowed a soft blue from the pendant lamps that hung from the ceiling. It was nearly deserted but for a handful of guys who were hunched quietly over beers, their eyes glued to a football game on the six televisions on the wall.

  A woman sat alone several stools away, her face turned toward the entrance of the restaurant as if looking for someone.

  “That’s her,” Alexis said, her feet slowing.

  Noah slid his hand higher on her back until his fingers met the tight cords of her neck. He squeezed and lowered his mouth closer to her ear. “You okay?”

  Her only response was to keep walking.

  Candi spotted them, fumbled the glass of water in her hand, and then winced as it spilled on the counter. A bartender waved off her apologies and began to wipe it up as Candi slid from her barstool.

  Alexis grew tense again beneath his hand.

  “Hi,” Candi said, her voice shy and breathless.

  “Thanks for meeting us here,” Alexis said.

  Candi darted a nervous glance at Alexis but then turned to face Noah straight on, and—wham. He felt the impact of recognition like one of Del’s head smacks. Alexis hadn’t been lying. Their eyes were identical.

  “This is my friend Noah,” Alexis said to Candi in a voice heavy with reassurance.

  Noah had heard her use it a hundred times on angry customers who were pissed off that ToeBeans had run out of cranberry scones or some other stupid complaint.

  Candi swallowed. “Hi.”

  Alexis stared at him and lifted an eyebrow. He knew that look too. The one that said he’d forgotten his manners and was acting like a brute. Noah swallowed hard and stuck out his hand. Candi stared at it hesitantly before accepting his handshake.

  “Nice to meet you,” he mumbled.

  Candi bit her lip as if she wanted to repeat the sentiment but hated lying. She looked back at Alexis. “Are you hungry? We can get a table or—”

  “The bar is fine,” Alexis said. “This won’t take long.”

  “Oh, right. Um, we can just sit here, then. I saved some seats.”

  Candi rushed to clear two other barstools of a coat and a purse. Alexis said a quiet thank-you and claimed one of the stools. Noah took the one beside her, and Candi returned to her own on Alexis’s right.

  The bartender came back. “What can I get you?”

  Noah looked down at Alexis. “You want a pale ale?”

  “Sure.”

  Noah nodded at the bartender. “Make it two.” He peered at Candi. “Anything for you?”

  “Just—Just water for me.”

  The bartender wandered off, and Candi swallowed hard. “So have you . . . have you made a decision?”

  Alexis lowered her purse to the floor. “Let’s talk first.”

  Disappointment tugged Candi’s youthful features into a small frown. “Oh, okay. Did—Did you have questions?”

  Alexis pulled in a long breath and let it out quickly. “I found a copy of your parents’ wedding announcement.” Alexis’s fingers absently rubbed the palm of her other hand. “Judging by the date of the wedding announcement, he and your mother were likely together when I was conceived.”

  Candi blanched but then recovered. Either that was the first time it had occurred to her that her dear old dad had cheated on her mom, or she already suspected and now had proof. Either way, Noah felt a little sorry for her. It sucked to discover someone you trusted wasn’t the saint you always believed them to be.

  Alexis’s tone turned gentle. “I’m assuming that’s why he didn’t want you to contact me when you first learned I existed.”

  Candi looked away. “I don’t know.” Her jaw suddenly jutted sideways. “I shouldn’t have listened to him. I wanted to meet you even before he got sick.”

  The bartender returned with their drinks, and Noah was grateful for the distraction. It stopped him from saying things he shouldn’t.

  Candi sipped her water, looking everywhere but at Alexis. “Things haven’t been great between Dad and me since I found out about you.”

  Noah’s fingers tightened on his bottle. If she was trying to make Alexis feel sorry for her, so help him—

  Alexis glanced at him as if she sensed his growing anger. Noah sucked down a long drink and looked at the TV. His attention, however, was firmly on the conversation that picked back up next to him.

  “I did some research online,” Alexis said. “Everything I read said this process normally takes six months or longer, but you said Elliott doesn’t have that long. How would this work?”

  Candi’s expression changed instantly. She sat up straighter, and her eyes widened. “Are you going to do it?”

  “I’m just asking what I would have to do.”

  Candi opened the purse on her lap and pulled out a well-worn blue folder with the logo for the Huntsville Memorial Transplant Center embossed on the cover. “I brought this for you,” she said excitedly, sounding every bit as young as she apparently was. “There’s two rounds of testing, and it does normally take several months, but since Dad—” Candi stopped and cleared her throat. “Since we don’t have that much time, they can do it faster.”

  She handed the folder to Alexis. “We have a transplant coordinator. Her card is in there. If you call her, she can arrange the first blood test.”

  Alexis opened the folder. Noah looked over her shoulder. His eyes skimmed what he could see, his muscles growing more rigid with every word.

  Candi reached into the pocket of her coat. “I also brought this for you.” She withdrew a folded piece of paper and set it on the bar between them.

  Alexis stared at it as if she was afraid of it. “What is that?”

  “A copy of the DNA test.”

  Moments ticked by as Alexis stared at the paper. They didn’t really need to see it. Anyone who looked at the two of them next to each other could tell she and Candi were related. Still, she reached for the paper, slid it closer, and then unfolded it.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “The transplant center isn’t very far from our house,” Candi said.

  Alexis looked up quickly.

  “So I was thinking that maybe . . .” Candi’s voice trailed off in an insecure whisper.

  “Maybe what?” Noah said gruffly.

  Candi tugged her hands into the cuffs of her sweatshirt. “Maybe after you do the blood test, you should come meet everyone. Dad. Cayden. The whole family.”

  Adrenaline soured Noah�
��s stomach at the word Dad. Elliott Vanderpool was not Dad to her. He’d made sure of that.

  “No way,” he said, setting his beer down harder than was necessary.

  Alexis gave him another one of those looks. He clenched his jaw.

  She turned back to Candi. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she said softly.

  “But then you could meet everyone.”

  “I just don’t know if I’m ready for that yet, Candi.”

  “Then why did you—” Candi cut herself off again, this time with a frustrated shake of her head. Her bottom lip took the brunt of whatever emotion she’d bitten back.

  “Why did I what?”

  Candi turned and pinned Alexis with the most direct gaze since they’d walked in. “If you weren’t interested in meeting us, why did you allow your DNA profile to be shared with potential family members?”

  And there it was. The question even Noah had been wondering but had been reluctant to ask. Alexis could have requested that her DNA results be kept private. They could only be shared with potential blood relatives with permission.

  Alexis seemed just as reluctant to answer the question as Noah had been to voice it. She avoided it completely. “I think we should just start with the blood test and go from there.”

  “Come to Huntsville,” Candi said, her voice a blend of desperation and exasperation. “Please.”

  Alexis puffed out her cheeks and let out a long breath. “Look, I know what you’re hoping will happen here. That we’ll have some kind of big reunion with tears and hugs and stuff, but I think you should lower your expectations.”

  “But don’t you at least want to meet your family?”

  “They’re not my family.”

  Candi’s eyes pinched at the corners, as if the words had struck a painful blow. Once again, Noah managed to feel a small twinge of pity for the girl.

  Alexis let out a weary sigh, as if she regretted what she said. “We share a bloodline, Candi. That doesn’t make us family. It just makes us related.”

  Candi’s lower lip took a beating again. She looked pitiful enough that Noah knew Alexis wouldn’t last much longer before agreeing to whatever Candi wanted. Noah stood and dug out his wallet. This needed to end. He dropped a twenty on the bar and rested his hand on Alexis’s shoulder. “We should get going.”

  Noah handed Alexis her purse as she stood. Candi slid off her stool, hands clenched against her stomach. “I have to go back to Huntsville. I can’t leave without knowing what you’re planning to do.”

  Alexis offered an empathetic gaze. “You know there’s no guarantee that I’m a match, right?”

  “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

  Noah held his breath as deeply as Candi held hers.

  Alexis finally nodded. “I’ll schedule the blood test.”

  Candi’s hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes got wet. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “I’ll let you know how it goes,” Alexis said, backing up until she collided with Noah’s chest. He gripped her hips to steady her.

  They were silent all the way back to the elevator. When the doors closed, though, Alexis turned to him. “Thank you for coming with me.”

  “Stop thanking me for shit before I get insulted.”

  Before he could react, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. Every cell in his body collided as she leaned into him and pressed her cheek to his chest. They’d shared hugs before. Many of them. But this one felt different. At least to him.

  He encircled her torso with his arms. She was hot and soft in his embrace. The ground tilted beneath his feet as a rush of tenderness and desire made his limbs weak and his breathing catch. Noah forced the air to keep moving in and out of his lungs and prayed she couldn’t hear the way his heart reached warp speed.

  He gulped. “What’s this for?”

  “For being such a good friend.”

  He coughed. “You’re a cross to bear, but I endure it.”

  She chuckled and pulled away, but not all the way. Her arms remained at his waist, her hands near his hips. He looked down just as she looked up. Her gaze drifted from his eyes to his mouth and lingered there. And there it was again. That look. Desire.

  The ding of the elevator brought them apart. Silence was like a physical presence between them as they walked to the car. Neither spoke until Noah pulled out of the ramp.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Are you?”

  “I could eat.”

  “Okay. Do you . . . Do you want to go somewhere or . . . ?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t care. We could go somewhere or go back to my house or whatever you want.”

  Jesus. Their conversation couldn’t be more stilted and painful if they’d been trying. Noah dragged a hand across his beard. It was never like this between them, and he fucking hated it.

  “How about this?” he said, forcing an easiness into his voice that he didn’t feel. “Let’s swing by the taco truck, take tacos back to your house, and start working on that LEGO set.”

  She nodded, and her hands loosened their assault on each other. “Perfect.”

  “Put some music on,” he said lightly.

  Lexa plugged her iPhone into his car and swiped through her playlists until she found their favorite. Twenty minutes later, Noah pulled into a parking space in front of the taco truck.

  “I can get this,” she said, reaching for her purse at the floor.

  “My turn,” he said, opening his door. “You made me a cake for my birthday.”

  He jogged over the curb and approached the counter. The guy who worked there knew Noah’s order by heart now and immediately started working on the vegetarian tacos and rice. Noah looked back over his shoulder just in time to see her bring her phone to her ear and start talking.

  Five minutes later, he got back in the car.

  “That smells awesome,” she breathed. “I’m hungrier than I thought.”

  Noah waited until he pulled back onto the street. “Who was on the phone?”

  “I called the transplant center.”

  “And?”

  “I can drive down tomorrow to meet with the coordinator and get tested.”

  “On a Sunday?” His air vacated his lungs. “They’re not wasting any time, are they?”

  If she caught the sarcasm in his tone, she ignored it. “My appointment is at one.”

  “Then I guess you’d better get some food into you and some decent sleep tonight.”

  He peeled his hand from the steering wheel and offered his pinkie. This was what she needed from him. Friendship. Nothing else. No matter how she looked at him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Alexis left for Huntsville just before eleven the next day after stopping at the café to make sure everyone was settled and able to handle things without her. Before pulling out into traffic, she hammered out a quick text to Noah.

  On my way.

  Call me if you need me.

  She plugged in her music, turned it up loud, and tried to focus on driving, not the destination. Because she had no idea what awaited her. The transplant coordinator said the blood test itself was simple and wouldn’t take long. But she first wanted to meet Alexis to go over how the entire process worked.

  Whenever anxiety gripped her, she used the calming technique her therapist had taught her. Focus only on what she needed to do now, not what she needed to do when she got there or tomorrow or the day after. She could only control this moment and her reaction to it.

  Normally, it worked. But her mind wouldn’t cooperate this time, and not just because of where she was going and why. She’d almost kissed Noah yesterday. Again. And as hard as they’d both worked to pretend things were normal between them, things definitely were not.

  Fin
ally, her GPS directed her to take the next exit to the hospital and transplant center. She parked in a visitor lot, paused to check her reflection in the rearview mirror, and then got out. From the outside, the hospital looked more like a college campus than a renowned medical center. Inside the lobby, she stopped at the information desk for a visitor pass, and the receptionist—a volunteer who called her dear several times—directed her to a bank of elevators that would take her to the transplant floor.

  She emerged into another lobby, this one sterile and staffed by nurses. They pointed to a waiting room and said someone would come for her.

  Ten minutes after she sat down, a woman in street clothes walked in and called Alexis’s name. When Alexis stood, the woman approached and held out her hand. “I’m Jasmine Singh, your transplant counselor.”

  She spoke over her shoulder as Alexis followed her back through a set of large automatic doors. “This will take roughly an hour. We have some paperwork for you to fill out, and some documents to sign. But mostly we’ll be talking. Sound good?”

  Alexis nodded.

  “No need to be nervous,” Jasmine said with a reassuring smile. “This is simple stuff.”

  They reached a small office. Jasmine held open the door and waited for Alexis to enter. Her desk dominated one half of the room. On the opposite side was a seating arrangement with a small couch and two upholstered chairs. A coffee table sat in the middle. The nameplate on the desk had the letters NCC after her name, which meant she was a certified counselor as well as a registered nurse.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Jasmine said. “Can I get you anything to drink? I have water and coffee.”

  “Water would be great,” Alexis said, sitting on the couch.

  Jasmine opened the door of a mini fridge wedged between two file cabinets. She returned with two bottles of water, which she set on the coffee table before claiming a chair facing Alexis.

  “How was your drive here? You find it okay?”