Trent coughs a few times and wipes at his bloody eye. “Got it.”
“Good.” Bram releases Trent, letting him fall to the ground. “You have ten seconds to get the fuck out of here before I call on the rest of my guys to finish the job.”
As if a fire was lit under his ass, Trent scrambles from the ground and runs away, nursing his bloody head. Bram keeps his eyes on him for a few more beats before turning toward me where the jagged lines in his face softens, concern morphing over his features as he grips me by the shoulders and looks me up and down.
“Are you okay, Jules?”
I don’t know if it’s because what I just experienced was terrifying, if it’s my adrenaline kicking in, or if it’s the deep concern and protectiveness from Bram, but I can’t hold back the tears as they fill my eyes.
Immediately Bram pulls me into a hug.
Warm and strong.
His arms like boulders, wrapping around me, protecting me from everything and everyone around us. Slowly the air stands still, the night blanketing us as I fall into the much-needed comfort of Bram’s embrace. It’s something I’ve never felt before, this type of hug, as if he’s trying to mold our bodies together. The tension and the worry leave me through my tears as I cling to this unexpected hero. But how? How is he here? How did he know?
Quietly he coos into my ear, a melodic sound of comfort as the side of his head presses against mine, the thick texture of his scruff getting caught in my hair, pulling on the strands. But I don’t mind, I welcome the closeness, the barrier he’s creating around us.
“Shh, it’s okay, Jules. I’m here.”
“He . . . he wouldn’t let me go,” I cry, the events hitting me all at once, realization of what could have happened if Bram didn’t show up scaring me to my core, breaking my skin into a fit of chills.
“I know and believe me, that will be the last girl he touches. His fraternity president will be hearing from me.”
I press my cheek against his chest, my arms wrapped around his tapered waist, the muscles of his back tense and flexed. When he pulls away, he lifts my chin to look me in the eyes. “He won’t ever touch you again, I promise.” I nod.
“Will you”—I swallow hard—“will you walk me to my dorm?”
“Of course,” he answers softly, tenderly wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
In silence, we walk through archways and down long stoned tunnels, never once speaking to each other. I don’t really know what to say at this point. This is a side of Bram I’ve never seen. A protective, knight in shining armor side that I wouldn’t have expected from the arrogant ass I met months ago. I never thought the cocky know-it-all would be so strong . . . so substantial. So protective of . . . me.
When we reach my dorm, Bram releases me and goes to stick his hands in his pockets when he winces and instead holds his hands at his side. That’s when I see his bloody and swollen knuckles.
“Bram.” I pick up one of his hands and examine him. “You’re all cut up and bloody. You should have said something. We should get your hands looked at.”
“I’m good,” he says curtly. “Don’t worry about me. Are you okay, Jules?”
I eye him, stoic and alpha—there is no way he’s going to go to the emergency room to get his knuckles checked out. He’ll probably run his hands under some cold water and call it a night, so there is no use pestering him.
“I’m okay.” I nod, dropping his hand to the side.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” A breeze picks up, brushing a stray strand of hair over my face. Before I can put it behind my ear, Bram reaches out and gently places the hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek before he pulls away, taking a step backward. “Thank you,” I quickly say before he fully retreats. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there.”
“Right place at the right time.” He nods at me. “Next time you’re studying this late, call one of us, and we’ll walk you back. You can never be too sure.”
“Okay.” I bite on my bottom lip, fidgeting in place. “Can you not tell Rath about this? He’s already so protective. I don’t need him splitting a gasket over some stupid asshole who doesn’t know when to leave a girl alone.”
“I don’t know if I can do that, Jules. If you were my sister, I would want to know.”
“He’ll freak out.”
“He has the right to. If you don’t tell him, I will. He deserves to know.”
I hate that Bram is right . . . once again.
“Okay, I’ll tell him tomorrow morning.”
Bram nods and before he can step away, I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his waist one more time, thanking him the only way I know how—with a hug, a genuinely thankful hug.
Hesitant at first, he finally reciprocates the embrace and holds me tightly, chin pressed to the top of my head. I’m not sure how long we stand there holding each other, but what I do know is that night when I went to bed, I felt safe.
And I earned that sense of safety from a very unlikely source, my brother’s best friend.
Chapter Sixteen
JULIA
“Tabitha, I can assure you it was not my intention to set you up with a, as you put it, dick hole.”
“He said dragons aren’t real, Julia. You know how passionate I am about dragons.”
Crap, I totally forgot about her dragon obsession. The girl is in love with them and as someone who will take pretty much anyone’s business, I nodded and smiled and listened to her go on and on about the extinction of dragons and how the common man was too intimidated and found a way to make them go extinct.
One of my most interesting clients, I’ve kept her on board because in my mind, I know I can find her the perfect match, someone who can appreciate her love for dragons, someone who is just as sexual as she is, but also likes to nerd out and dress up in Games of Thrones gear. Although, she did tell me for one of her viewing parties, she showed up naked and had someone ring a bell behind her calling out shame the entire time.
She said it was her most popular party to date. I can imagine it was given her body.
“I know, I’m sorry, Tabitha. I really thought Bram was going to be a good match for you.”
“He was an ass. He called me delusional. I thought you made this program for girls like us, girls who are different and quirky. That’s how you sold it to me.” Shit. Shit. This is what I feared the most.
“And I did,” I say, attempting to soothe her. “I’m sorry. You two matched up so well on paper, I thought maybe he would be more on your level when it came to”—I swallow hard—“dragons.”
“Ugh,” she groans. “He had such promise. He was so sexy and the way his pants clung to his legs and crotch area. God, his bulge.” My eyes widen and my ears start to flame as I picture his bulge, one I’ve noticed before. “We had such a great time leading up to the dragon talk, but you know that’s a game changer for me.”
“I know, Tabitha, and I actually have another guy I would love for you to go on a date with. He just finished up his questions with me so he’s available.”
“Is he a red?”
“He is, which is good news for you because I know you have a knack for reds, but he also likes to go to Renaissance fairs in his spare time.”
“Really?” Her voice morphs from complaining to positively excited.
“Yes. I already told him about you.” That’s a lie, but anything to keep a client happy. “He was bummed that you went on a date, but when I call him, I’m sure he’s going to be thrilled to know you’re still available. I mean, you’re available, right?”
“Yes, oh my gosh, yes. And he’s hot? Does he like to fuck?”
Why does she have to say it like that? “He does, has a lot of sexual fantasies he wants to fulfill.”
“Oh, he sounds like a dream. Set me up. I want to meet this elusive man.”
“That’s great. I’m glad to hear it. I’ll call you with details. You’re available this week?”
>
“Yup. No pressing matters to attend. Thanks, Julia, you’re the best.”
“Anytime.” I smile and hang up the phone, letting out a long sigh. That was a close one. I was so caught up in matching Bram with a girl I thought he would like physically, I completely forgot about Tabitha’s dragon love. And given that Bram graduated at the top of his class from Yale University, there is no way in hell he would let that go. Come on, Westin. This is your life. Your company. Do not be distracted. I take a deep breath. I. Can. Do. This.
I press on my intercom button and call Anita into my office.
She pokes her head past the door and says, “Yes?”
“Can you please get Bram Scott in here as soon as possible? I need to talk to him.”
“Oh, he’s actually in the waiting room. He was waiting for you to get off the phone.”
“He’s here?” I sit up straighter and smooth down my cream blouse.
Anita looks over her shoulder and back at me. “Yup, and he doesn’t look happy.”
Ugh, of course he’s not. Collecting myself, I straighten a few things on my desk and then say, “Send him in.”
In a few seconds, Bram comes charging through my office door and starts pacing the space in front of my desk, one hand pulling on the back of his neck.
Finally, “What kind of sick joke was that, Jules?”
I can’t help but inwardly smile. He called me Jules again.
“Are you fucking with me?”
“What? No.”
He stops his pacing and faces me, hands flying out to the side. “She believed dragons were real. REAL. As if they were actually flying around in the sky at one point.”
I cringe. “I know, I forgot about that.” God, I feel dumb right now. I was so caught off guard with his test results that I dropped the ball. I always have special notes about each client, and I failed to look at Tabitha’s notes.
The last thing I wanted to do was screw up Bram’s first date, and I was so worried about not screwing it up, I ended up missing the mark completely. He must be wondering how on earth I’ve had any success thus far. If I can’t match someone I’ve known for years . . . God. This is so fucked up.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly, staring at my hands, humiliation creeping up my spine. “I wanted you to have the perfect date, and I was so focused on finding you the right match that I misjudged.”
He lets out a long breath of air and walks over to the couch where he sits and stares at me. Hunched over, hands clasped in front of him, his blond hair unruly and his blue eyes zeroing in. I might not agree with Tabitha on the whole dragons-are-real front, but I will agree with Tabitha on one thing: Bram is really sexy.
Tousled hair, broody eyebrows, square jaw, just a light dusting of scruff to let you know how much of a man he really is. Yes, he’s always had major sex appeal.
“You don’t have to try so hard, Jules. The match might be right in front of you, and you’re not even seeing it.”
“I know. I shouldn’t try so hard. I guess I wanted to make sure you got what you wanted, since you’re my brother’s best friend and all. I felt the pressure.”
“No need to feel pressured, Jules. You know—”
“Don’t worry, I have the perfect date for you. Carly, the second girl I picked out. She’s going to be great. She has dirty-blonde hair and green eyes, beautiful legs, loves sex, and is a florist. Sweet personality. She’s cleanly divorced, no drama there, and loves sports, especially football.”
“Jules, I want to tell you—”
“And I already told her about you, and she can’t wait to go out on a date.” That is also a lie, but like I said, you have to keep the clients happy, always pushing them onto the next date if the first doesn’t work out. I always give myself three tries, which I think is pretty darn fair. Tinder doesn’t guarantee those types of odds.
“You already set up the date?” he asks incredulously.
“Just have to check with Linus when you’re available but since you’re here, does Friday work for you?”
He sighs and leans back on the chair, looking toward the ceiling. “Sure, fine. Friday works.”
I feel so bad. He’s probably mentally exhausted from his date with Tabitha. For someone who had to sit through her “presentation” about how dragons are real, I can only imagine how last night went. How did I ever think he could fall in love with Tabitha? Even if he’s a red, she was all wrong for him. I’m so off my game right now. Wanting to reassure him that he didn’t make a mistake by coming to me, I round my desk and sit next to him on the couch.
I reassuringly place my hand on his thigh, which snaps his head in my direction, connecting his eyes with mine. “Don’t worry, Bram. I’ll help you find what you’re looking for. I always say to give me three tries; works every time. I really think Carly is the one, though.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.” I wink and give him a pat.
* * *
Bram: What if I don’t show up for this date?
Julia: I will murder you. And why wouldn’t you show up?
Bram: Maybe because Carly is probably not the one.
Julia: I know I threw you off with the whole dragon lady date, but trust me on this one. Carly is the girl for you.
Bram: If you say so. Question, if you were going out on a date with me, what would you want me to wear?
Julia: Are you having a hard time picking out clothes? Just wear something simple.
Bram: That’s not what I asked. If you were going out on a date with me, what would you want to see me wear? What do you think I look sexiest in?
Julia: Fishing for compliments?
Bram: Just answer the goddamn question.
Julia: I think the date nerves are kicking in. You’re kind of acting like a jerk.
Bram: Just help a guy out. Christ, Jules.
Julia: Fine. Umm . . . what do I think you look good in?
Bram: Yeah.
Julia: Dark jeans, brown boots, and that navy-blue sweater you have that you wear with a crisp white undershirt. It’s casual enough for the restaurant you’re going to, but also stylish so you don’t look like a slob. And push your hair to the side. That unruly look you’ve been wearing lately makes you look distressed.
Bram: You’ve created the unruly look. I pull on my hair because of you.
Julia: It was one bad date.
Bram: You have no idea.
Julia: This one will be good, I promise. But don’t forget what I told you. She doesn’t kiss on the first date, but she will have sex on the second.
Bram: That’s a huge jump in morals.
Julia: I didn’t make her rules, she did. She has to feel the guy out first.
Bram: When you say feel out, are you referring to her sticking her hand down my pants? Because I’m wearing my tight jeans and I don’t think there will be much room for her hand.
Julia: Why are you always so disgusting?
Bram: Why are you always so goddamn beautiful?
Julia: Are you drinking?
Bram: No, but I’m about to start.
Chapter Seventeen
BRAM
To shave or not to shave?
I couldn’t care less at this point.
Fucking Julia.
I’m in her office, trying to confess to her about my fucking crush, and all she can talk about is Carly.
Carly likes animals.
Carly likes to eat hot wings while watching football.
Carly can design bouquets that make people weep.
Good Christ, Julia would not shut up about the woman. By the time I left her office, I was almost positive Julia had a hard-on for Carly. If I was into threesomes that would be hot, but like I said in my interview, I’m a one-woman man.
So once again, I left Julia feeling irritated, hard up, and wondering why the hell I’m going on another fucking date.
Carly.
Damn it. Having to go through small talk again, all the bullshit questions of what
you do, where you grew up, what college you went to, what you majored in . . . are dragons real to you?
I’m really not in the mood.
It’s why I have been sipping on a glass of Scotch while getting ready. I don’t care.
I don’t fucking care.
At this point, I think Julia is going to keep setting me up until she gets it right, which would be an absolute nightmare for me. I have to break the cycle. Something is going to have to change, because these dates will not get me closer to my goal . . . and I’m too fucking chickenshit to tell her that. How does she already own my balls?
“Hey, are you home?” Rath’s voice echoes through my halls and for some reason, my stomach does a nervous flip as if he caught me red-handed with my hand up Julia’s shirt.
At this point I would take the wrath of Rath over another date with a random woman.
I gulp down the rest of my Scotch and set it on my bathroom counter. “Back here, man.”
I stare into the mirror and look for any signs of guilt. Nope, I just look like I’ve had two tumblers of Scotch. Perfect, especially since I have to leave for my date in half an hour.
The heels of Rath’s designer shoes click against my expensive wood floors, and when he reaches my bedroom, I stick my head out of the bathroom and wave.
I might be overcompensating.
“Hey, man. What’s up?” I ask, putting my hand on my hip and striking a not so casual pose.
It’s official: I’m awkward.
But I can’t help it. The only thing running through my head as I stare at my best friend of over ten years is: I want to date your sister. I want to kiss your sister. I want to feel her tits. Lick them. Suck them. Spend hours upon hours with my mouth on hers, exploring every last inch of her—
“Why are you licking your lips like that and looking at me weird?”
“What?” I nervous laugh. “I wasn’t looking, I mean, my lips . . .” I laugh again. “I need chapstick.” I turn away and dig through my drawer for some Carmex. “What are you doing here?”
The Secret to Dating Your Best Friend’s Sister Page 15
