“Because he’s been thrown into parenthood with a young girl who’s developmentally behind. I’ve got answers to questions he has. It’s nothing more than that,” I said.
She grinned. “You sure about that?”
“I don’t know where this is coming from, but you can cut it out now.”
“Are you weirded out because he’s good friends with your brother?”
“You mean, best friends? No, that’s not why I’m weirded out. I’ve known Cole my whole life. He’s a good friend but nothing more.”
Plus, I was a teacher. And he was a damn millionaire.
“Wait a second, this isn’t about Brent, is it?” she asked.
I scoffed. “You really know how to dig your heels in, don’t you?”
“Girl, that happened years ago. I know you miss him. I know you loved him. But you have to move on. You can’t close yourself off forever.”
“Nicole, I really don’t want to talk about this.”
“It’s time to move on. Even if it’s not with Cole—even if I am reading way too much into the time you guys are spending together—you have to let go. It was an unfortunate accident that—”
“Stop.”
I held my hand up and drew in a deep breath.
“I hear you, Nicole. I do. I really do. But I don’t want to talk about this now,” I said curtly.
She sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s admirable. You’re worried about me, just like Lance is. I’m in this apartment alone. I don’t go out and do much. I get it. I know how it looks. Just, one bombshell at a time, okay? Let me cope with Susie first.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
I put my hand down and sighed. I knew she was right, though. And I knew she meant well. I mean, she was wrong about Cole, but right about me having to move on. I’d clung to Brent’s death for far too long. I needed to start getting my feet back underneath me. I needed to find a permanent home instead of renting the shoddy apartment I lived in. I needed to get on with my life and get back out there instead of relegating myself to rehashing that pain every night.
“Let me get a shower, then we can get out of here,” I said.
I cleaned myself up and put on a fresh set of clothes. Then, Nicole and I headed out. By the time we got into my car, it was a quarter past four.
Whoops.
However, the plans were simple. Nicole had texted Lance from my phone and asked him the details while I’d been in the shower. Cole wanted to go to his favorite Italian place. Shocker there. I pulled into a parking space, and we found them at a booth in the back, one of those round booths that really trap people in. Lance waved us down, and Cole smiled brightly. I didn’t recognize the other guy that was with them, though.
“Oh! Sorry. Uh, Joe, this is Layla and Nicole? Right?” Cole asked.
“That’s right. It’s good to see you guys again,” she said.
“You guys, this is Joe, my assistant and overall miracle worker at my company,” Cole said.
We all shook hands and introduced ourselves, but my eyes quickly fell to Millie. She munched on a breadstick with her eyes in her lap, and it made me wonder if she was really comfortable with this situation. There were an awful lot of men around her. I slid into the booth, landing beside her before my hand crept into her lap.
“Hiya, pretty girl,” I said.
Her head snapped up at my voice. She smiled brightly and wrapped her arms around my waist. I giggled as I hugged her close, scooping her into my lap. I reached over and patted Cole’s thigh, trying to acknowledge him as his niece clung to me.
And when I looked over at Nicole, she winked.
I’m going to kill her.
All throughout the dinner, I kept stealing glances at him. Every time Cole laughed, I stared a little too hard. Every time he flexed, my eyes ran down his arms. I blamed Nicole for planting asinine ideas in my mind. Objectively? Cole was incredibly handsome. Tall. Muscular from his construction days. Dark brown hair with icy blue eyes that looked as if they could kill until he smiled. And his smile. Oh, it was blindingly bright. It illuminated his face and expanded his strong jawline, lending a boyish quality to his features.
Don’t stare. You look like an idiot.
By the time dinner was over, Millie was asleep against me. I’d eaten my entire dinner with her in my lap. Once she’d filled her stomach, she turned around and tucked her face into the crook of my neck. The girl was precious. It pained me to think about waking her up.
“Just walk her to my truck. I can take it from there,” Cole said.
And Nicole tossed me another wink as I walked away with him.
I shot her a look that said, “no, really, you’re dead.” But, as we walked toward Cole’s truck, I felt him getting closer and closer. He scooped Millie out of my arms and buckled her in, and not once did she flinch. I leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to the girl’s cheek. I closed the truck door softly, hoping and praying the sound didn’t wake her. Then, I turned around.
Coming face-to-face with Cole standing much too close to me.
“It meant a lot that you came out tonight. Thank you,” he said.
I nodded quickly. “Of course. You’re more than welcome. I’m just glad everything turned out okay today.”
His eyes danced between mine. “Me too.”
I drew in a broken breath. My chest jumped, and he grinned at me for it. I went to slip away from him, but in the process my hip brushed against him. And the electricity that shot through my body rooted me to the pavement. The world fell away. I held my breath, waiting for the gripping sensation to pass me by.
Only, I felt something warm against my lips instead.
I saw Cole’s face, his eyes closed and his hand coming up to cup my cheek. He touched me with his calloused hand, and my own eyes fell closed. Everything inside my head told me to pull away, but my gut told me to lean in. So, I leaned in—and felt his tongue slide across the slit of my lips.
I’m really going to kill you, Nicole.
He pulled away and our foreheads fell together. His thumb stroked my cheek as I breathed the air he afforded me. My eyes finally fell open, gazing into his as a small smile crossed his lips.
“Thank you. For everything, Layla.”
“You’re welcome,” I murmured.
Then, I quickly slipped away, leaving him standing there as I scurried off to my car—and ready to kill Nicole for the stupid ideas she’d planted inside my brain.
10
Cole
I lay in bed, unable to sleep. Between the excitement of putting my mother in her place and dinner with all my friends, I was bubbling over with happiness. And then, Layla. With those honeypot eyes and her wispy blonde hair, something came over me I couldn’t control. I’d never seen Layla in that fashion, until she looked up at me with those big, brown eyes of hers. The way her skin felt against my own clenched my gut. I still felt the phantom softness of her lips against mine. What came over me, I had no fucking clue. She was my best friend’s sister. And yet, there had been something.
A connection that took us both by surprise.
It wasn’t a deep kiss, or a long kiss by any means, but it had been sweet. Vulnerable. Kind. And completely unbelievable. I stared at the ceiling, wondering when the hell I’d first wanted to kiss Lance’s fucking sister.
But I came up with nothing.
Maybe it was a perfect whirlwind of circumstances. I mean, she’d helped me out a lot. And watching Millie sleep against her tugged at a part of me I was still coming to understand myself. Maybe it was nothing but the moment. A one-off thing that wouldn’t come traipsing back.
But I knew better than that.
Still, I looked at it from all angles. There wasn’t anything I did in my life without fully researching it. Kissing Layla had been the first spontaneous thing I’d done in years. Which meant I needed to now analyze things. This was important. She was important. Not simply because she was my b
rother’s best friend, but because she was my friend. A great friend. And a valuable support system for Millie going forward.
I didn’t want to fuck that up.
How do you really feel about her, Cole?
It was a question that kept me up well past midnight. I walked through my entire childhood, remembering the moments I interacted with Layla. The first time I saw her—really saw her—I was maybe fifteen years old, barely into my awkward teenage phase while she struggled with elementary school. I remembered Lance bitching about it all the time. How she threw such tantrums over homework. How she cried every time his parents tried putting her on the bus. How she made everyone’s life a living nightmare.
And from there, the memories spiraled.
I remembered the day she started high school. How nervous she’d been. I thought back to the day she graduated, ready for college and bright-eyed with dreams. I thought about my graduations, my massive achievements, like the ribbon-cutting ceremony for my business and just about every single birthday.
We’d been there with one another, through it all.
But I’d never had a crush on her. Not until now.
This is about Millie. Not you.
I pushed those thoughts aside and turned over in bed. Now, she was mine for real. So, I needed to focus on her, get started on creating a life for her that would benefit her instead of harm her. Her first psychological appointment was Monday, and I had a few things the woman wanted me to do in order to prepare her. I also needed to use her nap times to continue researching. Looking up tutors, like Layla suggested. Scheduling that evaluation so someone could come out and assess her.
Wait, maybe the psychologist will do that?
I needed to call and ask.
I tossed and turned all night and barely got any rest. My mind kept bouncing between my niece and Layla, trying to figure out what to do and what order to do it in. The list was endless. The bullet points seemed to go on forever. And when I picked up my phone at six in the morning, I groaned.
“Might as well get up,” I murmured to myself.
I made myself a strong pot of coffee and sat out on the porch. Another breezy fall morning. Another Friday as a new father. I rocked in the rocking chair and sipped the black liquid, but it wasn’t waking me up like usual. Shit. I’d need much more than the two cups I usually drank.
Thank fuck I made an entire pot.
I sighed as I made my way back inside. I poured myself a second cup and decided to get breakfast ready. I sliced up more of those peaches and tossed them into the pan. A bit of milk. Some sugar. I cooked it all down before tossing the oatmeal in, stirred it all up until it was the right consistency, then chugged back my lukewarm cup of coffee.
Just as I poured myself a third one, I heard those little footsteps coming down the stairs, creating a sound that made me smile.
“Milk or water?” I asked.
Millie yawned. “Milk, please.”
I went and sat her bowl in front of her before pouring her a glass and grabbing my coffee. I took a chance as I sat in front of her, hoping my presence wouldn’t intimidate her. And instead of stopping her eating, she simply eyed me warily while she ate.
Progress.
“Is it okay if I ask you a question?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Do you like your room?”
She nodded again.
“Is there anything about your room you don’t like?”
She shook her head.
“You know it’s okay to not like things, right?”
She cocked her head at me, and I smiled.
“Like, if you don’t like what color it is. Or if the furniture is too big. Or if you want more toys. It’s okay to tell me that stuff,” I said.
She looked at me for a long time before she swallowed her food.
“I can’t turn on the lamp,” she said softly.
“We can get you another lamp. Maybe one where you clap and it turns on?”
“A clap lamp?”
“Mhm. Would you like one?”
“Like on the TV?”
I smiled. “Like on the TV, yes.”
And when she smiled, I made a mental note.
“What about the walls? Do you like the color?” I asked.
Millie shrugged.
“If you could paint your walls, what color would you want them to be?”
“Uh… pink?”
“It’s your choice. Is pink what you want?”
She shook her head.
“Then no pink. What color do you want?” I asked.
She thought about my question for a long time before smiling again.
“Orange,” she said.
I chuckled. “Orange. That’s a good color. Okay. What about toys? Do you like toys? Or stuffed animals?”
“Oh! Oh! Fluffy blankets.”
“You got it. Anything else?”
She paused. “A doll house?”
I smiled. “Maybe a new doll, too?”
“With hair like mine?”
“Of course. If that’s what you want.”
“Could me and my doll have matching outfits?”
“I’ll make sure it happens,” I said.
She ate breakfast with a smile on her face, and I set out to plan a shopping trip. Though, I wasn’t sure if she’d enjoy it. The grocery store had been an absolute fail, and I knew places like the stores I wanted to go to would be packed with people on a Friday. Then again, if we could wrap everything up before lunch, we might miss most of the stay-at-home-mom crowd with their own screaming children.
It could backfire, though.
“Would you like to go shopping with me today?” I asked.
Millie’s eyes slowly came up to mine, but she didn’t answer.
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. We can order some of the things you want online.”
She paused. “Why are we shopping?”
“To get you your things. You know, the orange paint and the doll house.”
“That’s today?”
I nodded. “If you want it to be.”
She nodded quickly, and my heart swelled with happiness. I urged her to finish her oatmeal so we could take Hope out for a small walk. After we finished up our blossoming morning routine, we hopped in my truck. I figured pick up what she wanted and take breaks when she felt overwhelmed.
And I was shocked at how well she adjusted to everything.
The first store was a bit much. There were lots of trucks because it was unloading day for their merchandise department. But she took it like a champ. I let her sit in the back of the cart while we stared at twenty different shades of orange paint. I let her pick out what she wanted for the walls and what she wanted for “the stuff around her windows.” And it impressed me that she picked up colors that went together: pale orange on the walls and a rich golden tone for the trim and baseboards and things.
It was easy for me to talk her into a pale pink as an accent color, too. Which tickled the interior designer inside me.
The more stores we went to, the more decisive she became. We went from aimlessly wandering around to her pointing out what she wanted directly off the shelf once we found it. The only thing we stuttered over were the dolls. They all looked the same to me. But to Millie? They were very different. She kept picking up boxes and putting them down, touching their hair before turning her nose up at four different kinds. I smiled as I watched her come out of her shell, making her own decisions and ignoring the slowly growing chaos around her. Then, as we made our way back to the house, I sent a text to Lance, letting him know he officially had a painting job for the weekend.
And maybe to test the waters to see how he’d feel about me courting Layla.
11
Layla
It didn’t mean anything. I mean, there wasn’t any tongue.
He tried tongue, though.
Just a moment. Nothing major.
I’m going to strangle Nicole.
All day long, I w
ent back and forth in my mind. I’d hardly slept. I couldn’t focus on work. The kids kept asking me questions that went completely over my head. I struggled, big-time. And in the three years I’d been teaching, it was the first time I felt like I’d let my students down. I’d only been partially there. Even with the fifth graders in the gymnasium, I had a hard time focusing. Between staring Nicole down and reliving that kiss for the umpteenth time, I’d had enough.
That’s it. I need to talk with someone about this.
The bell tolled right at two forty-five to dismiss the students. The second the fifth graders filed out of the gym with their teachers, I walked over to Nicole. I grabbed her wrist, pulling her off to the side, and when I knew I had her undivided attention, I leveled my eyes with hers.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“I figured as much. You’ve been a bit off today. You okay?”
“No, Nicole. I’m not okay. But I don’t want to talk about this here. Meet me at my place for dinner. We’re having happy hour.”
“You’re worrying me. What’s on your mind?”
“You, and all that shit you said about Cole.”
Her eyebrows rose, but I stormed off. I hated the fact that my mind kept swirling around this. I hated the fact that I couldn’t get myself under control. I felt myself spiraling and my emotions going haywire. My brain kept bouncing between analyzing the kiss and remembering how much I liked it.
Because I really did like it.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed.
I slammed my hands against the steering wheel of my car. I didn’t remember leaving school or driving back to my place. The only thing I remembered was staring at my apartment building. I’d completely zoned out. How had I gotten home again?
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Not good,” I murmured. “Get it together Layla. You’re a damn adult, not a lovesick teenager.”
I gathered my things and went upstairs. I took Ace for a walk, trying to clear my head and work out some of the emotions. I speed walked, so much so that Ace began panting and whimpering for water. I picked up my poor dog and took him back upstairs, feeling sweat dripping down the nape of my neck. I needed a shower and a good scrub down. I needed my mind to stop swirling like this.
Brother’s Best Friend Page 7
