My Forbidden Date: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance

by Tara Brent

  Her building wasn’t what I had been expecting and for a moment I thought that they had given me the wrong address. It didn’t look like an apartment building at all; it looked like an office building. I walked up to the glass doors and stared inside the lobby. No one was around so I stepped inside and saw a directory on the wall. I wasn’t sure how I was going to find her but then I saw the name Foxtrot on the board on the fifth floor.

  The elevator doors open, and I step out into an office space. The layout is an open loft with work cubicles around the perimeter, and an open meeting space in the center. Tall windows let in plenty of light and I almost want to put on a pair of sunglasses. A group of employees is socializing around a conference table crammed with the standard office food—bagels, donuts, and boxes of coffee. When I walk in, the conversation slows down to a halt as everyone turns to check me out. I admit I can be vain but this is not my imagination.

  “Hello, sir,” a young girl with a clean-scrubbed face smiles at me from behind a counter. “May I help you?”

  I walk up to the counter. “Yes, I’m looking for a Maya Stewart.”

  “And your name?” she squeaks.

  “Is Jackson Hayes.”

  “Have a seat.” She smiles as she bounces off her stool and points to a low bright yellow couch in the corner. She darts down a hallway to her left and disappears. The employees have quickly lost interest in me thankfully as I sit down. My knees are almost to my chin sitting on this doll furniture. I hear voices down the hall and a little commotion.

  I suck in air not quite sure what to say. We had tried a coast-to-coast romance, but a three-hour difference tanked it. I tried sexting once, but it’s not my thing. I’d tossed my phone into the fiery pit of hell before I’d send a dick pic.

  I shift in the seat as the voices grow louder from down the hallway. Maya appears, and seeing her gives my heart a boost. She’s beautiful in her yellow dress—a little heavier but it only makes her curves sexier. Grinning like an inexperienced virgin, I stand up to greet her.

  A redhead walks beside Maya, and her eyes pop when she sees me. “So, is this him?” she whispers in a low voice loud enough to hear across the room. Maya hurries past the woman and stops in front of me. She’s smiling hard but I don’t feel an ounce of warmth in her greeting.

  “I wasn’t expecting you until later, Jackson.” Her face turns pink as if she’s about to combust.

  “I didn’t want to wait.” I glance at the redhead, standing behind Maya. “I hope that’s okay?”

  The redhead sticks out her hand. “Whitney Rogers, since I’m going to have to introduce myself.”

  “Jackson Hayes.” I shake her hand, and she holds mine tight.

  Whitney steps into my space, nudging Maya to the side, and I can feel the heat coming off the redhead’s body. Is this woman coming on to me in front of Maya? I pull my hand away and turn toward Maya.

  “You have time for lunch?” I ask her.

  “It’s early...” she starts to say.

  “Of course, she does.” Whitney smiles as she places her hand on Maya’s shoulder. “Your friend has come all this way to see you, Maya. Go get your purse.”

  Friend? Maya shoots Whitney a look of loathing that she can’t express verbally. And I know something isn’t right. Maya disappears, and unfortunately, she doesn’t drag Whitney with her.

  “So, Maya says you’re in real estate.” Whitney looks to be about my age. I’m a bit old for a cougar.

  “Yes, Maya’s right. I’m in real estate.”

  Whitney moves in closer. “LA is a long way to travel just to show a house.”

  I give her an icy look. “It’s more involved than that.”

  Maya comes rushing back into the reception area, and I’m eager to be rescued. This woman is definitely hitting on me. And I’m wondering if Whitney is bold or if she thinks it is okay. A friend?

  “Ready?” I ask, and Maya nods. I place my arm around Maya’s waist, giving Ms. Grabby Cougar a hint.

  “Have fun.” Whitney waves as the elevator door closes.

  I didn’t receive the excited greeting I had hoped for...at least, not from Maya. I had hoped for more enthusiasm like her launching herself into my arms, and it ending with a passionate kiss. A kiss I had fantasized about for months. There’s still hope it will happen once we’re alone, but it’s not going to happen. Maya sits in my car with her arms folded. I’m happy to see her but she doesn’t really seem to give a shit to see me.

  “So, how are things going?” I ask as we drive out of the parking lot.

  “Okay.”

  Oh boy. Is this going to be the whole day? Talking to each other like we just met. I can’t do this. I swear I’ll swing the car around if I have to. I don’t want to. Despite the chilly reception, I’m glad to be with her. My father’s words playback in my head, She’s the one Jackson. I could’ve told you back when you were kids.

  The nurse at the home had been addicted to the CuteMeet vlog, and when she realized who Dad was related to, she insisted that they watch it together. Each visit, Dad gave me his opinion on each woman. That’s why I never brought a girl home. He told me that one was too clingy, another one was too heavy, and a different one looked like she didn’t want sex. Yeah, dad and I had started talking like that. When my impromptu date with Maya happened, Dad took an interest. That’s when he started telling me she was the one. He had been disappointed when I let her go. He wasn’t the only one.

  “Are you pissed that I didn’t call first?” I ask.

  She brushes her hair off her forehead. “I wish you had.”

  “How’s the job?” I ask, changing the subject. “How’s Max?”

  “It’s okay,” she sighs, “And he’s okay.”

  I’m going to have to pull the conversation out of Maya the same way I used to whenever she was sulking in the backyard after one of her brothers had picked on her.

  “I’ll give you a handful of Skittles if you tell me what’s wrong.”

  That got a laugh. The sparkle comes back into her eyes as her tight mouth relaxes into a smile. “I was expecting a higher position, that’s all,” she explains, “I’m the manager of a staff of one. Myself.”

  “That’s sneaky,” I reply. “Did you still get your full buyout?”

  “Yes,” she replies, “but I used a chunk of it to move out here. And to help out Max.”

  I take my hand off the steering wheel and place it near her knee, barely touching it. I don’t dare touch her now. Not like I used to.

  “Maya, you can always come back home.” I glance over, and she shifts her legs over toward the passenger side door. I sigh. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

  “No,” she says, “we have to talk.”

  That little sentence is the death knell of all relationships. I didn’t fly to LA to end it.

  “Listen, I haven’t checked in yet,” I try to push back the inevitable. “So let’s have lunch at the hotel.”

  “You didn’t check-in.” Her eyes transform into circles of panic.

  I shake my head. “Don’t worry. I booked a room. It’s just that I came straight to you from the airport. Without calling, remember?”

  She nods, and takes a breath.

  The lobby of the B Hotel in Beverly Hills is a combination of miles of glass, the bluest water, and hundreds of plants. It’s like staying in a terrarium filled with people. This would’ve been the perfect place to rekindle our desire, but Maya’s arms are still folded tightly over her chest. Maybe she’s just pissed because I didn’t try to stop her from leaving. My mind keeps cycling through every conversation we had while dating, trying to find a logical reason for the coldness. We walk into the hotel restaurant and it would’ve been the perfect place to do the deed. But I’m not getting a good feeling about springing the big question on her.

  After we’re seated, I excuse myself to check-in at the front desk. I figure I should at least tell them I’m here. I return to the table, and Maya notices the frown on my face.
>
  “What’s the matter?” she asks.

  “I missed check-in and now they’re overbooked,” I reply, “They’re trying to find me a room.”

  The color literally drains from her face, and I’m deeply regretting planning this trip. Sure, I have a business meeting with a client but the only reason I actually took the time to come out to LA was to see Maya.

  “Where are you going to stay?” she whispers.

  “I guess not with you,” I reply coldly.

  Maya looks sheepishly at me as her color returns. “I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s just that I don’t have the room with Max there. I’m sure we could find you a place to stay at another hotel.”

  Max was a slob. He had his own room in their old Victorian because of it. I never went in there when I visited unless I was carrying a heavy-ply trash bag. Vince and I would throw away moldy food and crusty gym socks with bandanas tied over our noses.

  I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. I have a friend I’m sure I can stay with.”

  “A female friend?” she asks, her lips stretched into a line.

  “Seriously, what is up with you?” I speak in a low tone. “You haven’t looked happy since I got here. And now you’re giving me stink eye.”

  “It’s complicated,” she says, avoiding my gaze. “I met someone else.”

  The wind is knocked out of me when Maya says that. Vince never told me about another guy, but Maya has kept him at a distance too. Understandable. But I had planned this whole day. I was going to do everything right. Tell that I missed her, and I loved her. I wanted her to move back to Bridgetown, so we could get married. Or I could’ve moved here. I sit there silently wondering if I look like the ass that I feel like.

  “I would have told you before,” she says, “if I had known when you were coming.”

  The waiter comes over to take our order, but I tell him we need more time. We don’t need any more time. It’s over. I put on a brave face but it doesn’t fit my crumbling mood.

  “Well, we could just eat and catch up,” I reply.

  Maya looks like she’d rather be anywhere else, and I do mean anywhere else. So do I.

  I feel a tap on my shoulder, and it’s the woman from reception. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hayes, but we’re completely booked.” She smiles widely like it’s good news. I rub my face with my hand. What else could go wrong today? “We could help get you a room at an affiliated hotel,” she continues. “Tomorrow, we’ll have vacancies.”

  Maya stares at the woman, and then looks at me. “It’s okay, Jackson. You could spend the night with Max and me.”

  I shake my head. “Maya, it’s okay. I’ll check around.”

  The woman assures us that she’ll keep trying before she walks away. I check an app for a hotel room and I can get one near the airport. I’m almost tempted to get on an airplane and leave.

  Maya picks at her roll and then sips her water. “It’s okay,” she speaks up, “you can stay with me.”

  “Your new partner’s not going to mind if your ex-boyfriend is staying with you.” My tone is meant to cut.

  Her lips twist. Maybe, I shouldn’t have assumed I had been her boyfriend.

  “We can talk some more,” she says.

  I almost tell Maya that we’ve talked enough. But I don’t want to hurt her feelings the same way in which she was battering mine. I should’ve come out before now but I didn’t want to leave my dad in his condition. Ted had told me to go on and go. He gave me a heartfelt pep talk to chase the right one. He’d cringe with disgust if he saw me now.

  ***

  After lunch, there’s still no room available, and Maya is acting doubly guilty. Eventually, we drive to her apartment, and she fidgets the entire ride. She keeps glancing over with wide-eyes as we walk up the stairs to her front door. Maybe I should give her a moment to hide his tighty-whities and their sex toys. We enter her place. It’s an open plan—the kitchen flows into the living room. And it looks like a daycare center. There’s a ton of baby crap everywhere I look—stroller, car seat, blankets, and bottles. I’m about to ask if she’s selling baby stuff online as a side gig.

  “Does a baby live here?” I ask.

  Maya giggles nervously, and grabs a blanket and a baby bottle off the couch. But I don’t think she thinks anything about this is funny. At first, she’s at a loss for words. “I’m babysitting for Max.” She sighs, and relief floods her face.

  “Max has a kid?” I ask, fingering a knit sweater. “This is news. Does Vince know?”

  “A girl he’s dating,” she quickly explains. “It’s her kid and it’s in daycare.”

  I frown because it makes no sense. “So you babysit a kid here that’s in daycare?”

  “In the evenings,” she explains. “They spend a lot of time here in the evenings.”

  I nod. “So that means that I’ll get a chance tonight to meet Max’s girlfriend and her kid.”

  Maya stares at me like I just asked her to introduce me to Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro. “He may not be here tonight,” she adds quickly, “but the baby will be. His girlfriend lives out of town.”

  I shake my head, missing the logic. “Are you sure this is okay?” I ask.

  She grabs another blanket bundling it tightly into her arms. “It will be okay,” she whispers

  It sounds as if she’s reassuring herself. “Are you sure I’m not putting you out or on the spot?”

  “How’s your dad?” She changes the topic to a harder one.

  I nod, “Hanging in there. He’s comfortable. That’s all we can hope for. He asks about you almost daily.”

  Maya’s eyes fill with tears. I didn’t want to do that. I wanted her to cry for joy, not because I showed up and put her on the spot. I pull her into my arms, and she feels so good and warm. I close my eyes and inhale the scent of her soft skin. I smile, thinking she smells like baby lotion.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, “I didn’t plan for this to happen.”

  Chapter 9

  Maya

  I’m such a fool. I didn’t know what to say to Jackson, so I did the worse thing possible—I lied.

  Only Tiffany and Max knew the baby existed. I couldn’t keep a secret from my twin, so I confessed and made Max swear to secrecy. He decided that I couldn’t move out to LA solo, not while I was pregnant. I relented after a barrage of double nagging, from him and Tiff, and he moved out with me. Max also wanted to get away from Vince’s constant criticism. At least, Vince will be able to clean out Max’s filthy room.

  “How’s Max doing?” Jackson asks, pulling away.

  No sooner than the words leave his mouth, keys rattle in the lock, and Jackson follows my startled gaze. Max walks in whistling, holding something against his chest. I hold my breath and then let out a deep breath when I see a bag of groceries in his arms.

  Max almost drops it when he sees Jackson staring back. Instead, Max lets out a little squeal. “Jackson, Maya, what are you doing here in the middle of the day?”

  I hurry to explain, bring him quickly up to speed. “Jackson is visiting. He surprised me at the office. The hotel is overbooked. I told him you wouldn’t mind. I told him about Jane’s baby.”

  “In LA?” asks Max. “You couldn’t find another hotel?”

  I glare at Max. It figures he would hook onto that.

  “Sorry, how stupid,” he backpedals, looking at the empty baby bottles lined up on the kitchen counter. “Do you have a place to crash, Jackson?”

  “Not here, I guess,” Jackson replies. “Do you need a ride back to work, Maya?”

  I shake my head. “No, Max can give me a lift.”

  Jackson fingers a quilt on the back of a recliner as Max and I watch him like hawks. I feel like Jackson can tell we’re lying like thieves, and he’s searching for evidence.

  “What’s the kid’s name?” he asks, “The kid you’re watching?”

  “Lucas,” my voice cracks into two. “He’s a sweet kid. You’d like him.”

  Jackson decide
s to check in at a hotel by the airport. I watch him and Max from the apartment balcony as they walk over to his rental car. I feel guilty about everything. I just couldn’t give him a place to stay tonight. Not without telling him the truth about the baby—the baby that has his eyes.

  I grab my phone out of my purse and text the job that I’m taking the rest of the afternoon off. Whitney sends back a string of kissy face emojis. I can’t stand the sight of her. Don’t think I didn’t notice her flirting with Jackson right in front of me. Bitch. We share an office, and Whitney decided on her own to manage me though I didn’t officially have one. At first, I thought she was being helpful, but it was a sneaky power play. I was completely blindsided because it was my first corporate job. It didn’t take long to realize that Foxtrot wasn’t a big happy family—no matter what the internal staff emails said.

  I collapse on the couch on top of a pile of baby clothes and Max’s biker shorts. I almost poke my eye out with a squeaky rattle. That’s going in the trash. The apartment door swings open, and Max rushes in panting like he ran a fast mile around the block. My twin brother looks like the male version of me except he’s a little bit more of everything—a little taller, a little louder, and a little nuttier.

  “Well, that was intense?” He flings himself into the recliner on top of a stack of folded towels. “Why didn’t you tell me Jackson was here?”

  I stare at Max like he’s insane to think I actually planned this. “He just showed up at my job. I didn’t have a second alone to text. Is Lucas still at daycare?”

  “No,” he replies, “I hid him in the trunk of my car. Calm down, Maya. I’m joking. He’s at daycare.”

  I point my index finger at him like a weapon. “Don’t joke about my baby.”

  “Are you going to tell Jackson?” he asks, “BTW—we’re going out to eat while he’s here—all of us.”

  Closing my eyes, I sigh. “Great. Maybe I should just tell him. He never wanted a wife or kids. And I have no intention of trapping any man who doesn’t want to stay.”