My Brother's Best Friend: A Last Chance Romance (Soulmates Series Book 6)

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My Brother's Best Friend: A Last Chance Romance (Soulmates Series Book 6) Page 1

by Hazel Kelly




  M Y B R O T H E R ’ S

  B E S T F R I E N D

  A L A S T C H A N C E R O M A N C E

  Hazel Kelly

  © 2017 Hazel Kelly

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, copied, or stored in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, events, brands, companies, and locations in this story are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, organizations, and settings is purely coincidental.

  Edited by Aquila Editing

  Cover Artwork – © 2017 L.J. Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  P R O L O G U E

  O N E

  T W O

  T H R E E

  F O U R

  F L A S H B A C K

  F I V E

  S I X

  S E V E N

  E I G H T

  N I N E

  T E N

  E L E V E N

  T W E L V E

  T H I R T E E N

  F O U R T E E N

  F I F T E E N

  S I X T E E N

  S E V E N T E E N

  E I G H T E E N

  F L A S H B A C K

  N I N E T E E N

  T W E N T Y

  T W E N T Y O N E

  F L A S H B A C K

  T W E N T Y T W O

  T W E N T Y T H R E E

  T W E N T Y F O U R

  T W E N T Y F I V E

  T W E N T Y S I X

  T W E N T Y S E V E N

  T W E N T Y E I G H T

  T W E N T Y N I N E

  T H I R T Y

  T H I R T Y O N E

  T H I R T Y T W O

  T H I R T Y T H R E E

  T H I R T Y F O U R

  T H I R T Y F I V E

  T H I R T Y S I X

  T H I R T Y S E V E N

  T H I R T Y E I G H T

  T H I R T Y N I N E

  F O R T Y

  F O R T Y O N E

  F O R T Y T W O

  F O R T Y T H R E E

  F O R T Y F O U R

  F O R T Y F I V E

  F O R T Y S I X

  F O R T Y S E V E N

  F O R T Y E I G H T

  F L A S H B A C K

  F O R T Y N I N E

  F I F T Y

  E P I L O G U E

  N O T E F R O M T H E A U T H O R

  O T H E R B O O K S I N T H E S O U L M A T E S S E R I E S

  O T H E R S E R I E S B Y H A Z E L K E L L Y

  “The art of love is largely the art of persistence.”

  - Albert Ellis

  P R O L O G U E

  He wasn’t just the best man at my brother’s wedding.

  He was the best man, period.

  I knew it deep in my bones the first day I met him.

  Well, maybe not the first day. I was only six, after all, and he was just a boy.

  But even then, his presence made me feel both firmly grounded and like I was walking on air.

  It was a curious feeling to have, especially as a kid.

  As I got older, my cravings for his company intensified, and I began aching not only for his attention, but for his touch.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t know if he felt the same. I wanted to believe he did (based on our too-few stolen moments and the conversations I’d overheard him having with my brother through the vent in my bedroom wall).

  But there was only one thing I knew for sure, which was that his loyalty to my brother knew no bounds.

  And for good reason.

  But I didn’t care about that. Not like I cared about him.

  Because I loved Landon Bishop at first sight…long before he became my brother’s best friend.

  O N E

  - Margot -

  He was beaming as he stood before the priest, his eyes fixed on Kelsey like he was seeing her for the first time and knew life would never be the same.

  I wondered how similar his expression must’ve looked the first time he saw her at that crowded frat party his sophomore year of college. Had he known then that his life would be changed forever?

  Had he known then that he would be standing here five years later, surrounded by his friends and family as they waited with bated breath for that one moment, that moment when we’d get to hear the sincerity in the happy couple’s voices as they said I do?

  He said he did. He said he knew the second he saw her that she was the woman for him. He said that, in that moment, everything else faded away, and he came to believe with a certainty he hadn’t known before that his future might be brighter than he’d ever thought possible.

  Naturally, I couldn’t have been more delighted for him. He was my brother, after all. His happiness had been tied up in my own for as long as I could remember, and while I knew his marriage might alter the dynamic between us, that perpetual reality seemed unlikely to change.

  Then again, our whole family’s happiness was wrapped up in his. I’m not exactly sure why. I suppose it was because Matt’s personality was so big and intense that you couldn’t help but feel what he was feeling.

  As a kid, his joy could be felt anywhere in the house, and the same went for his frequent teenage angst. I didn’t know if his infectiousness was because he was a guy or the eldest or simply because he burned more intensely than most people, but it wasn’t the same for me.

  I always kept my feelings more private, divulging them rarely and with great discomfort. Sometimes I wondered if this was because my parents were quite traditional, because my mom was similarly reserved, or if it was merely a biological personality quirk.

  But just because I was a private person didn’t mean I didn’t crave the same things Matt did. And as much as I hated to be jealous of him on the most important day of his life to date, I couldn’t help it.

  I wanted a big, bold, all-consuming love that lifted me when I was down and lifted me even higher when I was up. I wanted the kind of love I’d read about in books, the kind that’s so powerful it infects you. The kind that spreads through every nook and cranny of your whole body until you know you love someone not just with your heart and eyes, but with your brain and hands and toes.

  I wanted that life-affirming, Disney kind of love. The kind that made men out of beasts and princesses out of humble maidens.

  It wasn’t the wedding I envied. I didn’t care if I ever wore a fancy white dress or had a chance to hold the attention of an entire room full of people. That didn’t interest me. To be honest, there was only one person whose attention I wanted, whose attention made me feel seen, important, and loved…

  And that person was Landon Bishop, my brother’s best friend.

  I’d slipped my heart in his pocket years ago. Unfortunately, I was still waiting for him to notice. Sometimes I suspected he already had, though, since I often struggled to play it cool in his company.

  But by the time I figured out that it wasn’t only his attention that I wanted, he was on his way to becoming a gentleman, and that’s exactly how he always acted…much to my disappointment.

  He never crossed the line with me. Sure, he may have encouraged me with some mild flirtation, but he never led me on. Didn’t he know that I would’ve settled for that? That I would’ve been elated to enjoy even a glimmer of false hope that we might get together someday?

  Then again, h
e never said no either. He never said he didn’t want my affection or that he didn’t want to return it. So, like any young girl, I read between every line I could to create a picture of our relationship that I could live with.

  Because there was nothing I wanted more than to believe he’d loved me back this whole time and that, any minute now, he was going to make a woman out of me like I’d always known only he could.

  After all, as my brother’s experience proved, once you know who you’re supposed to be with, there is no plan B. There is only that one reality you can live with. So as far as I was concerned, the only thing standing between me and my happily ever after was the fact that Landon hadn’t yet realized how perfect I was for him.

  Of course, it didn’t look like that was about to happen in the next few minutes either. He was too busy beaming at the happy couple from his spot behind my brother, his shiny shoes occupying the marble stairs a few steps up from where I stood between the other bridesmaids, counting down the minutes until I could relax my face or let myself cry. God forbid I wept too early when I was third backup for Kelsey’s emergency tissue stash.

  I looked back up from Landon’s shoes, letting my eyes linger briefly on the way his smile tugged to one side because of a scar that would be invisible to anyone who didn’t know it was there. I wondered if he ever studied me as closely as I admired him, if he’d even noticed that I’d grown up and out in all the right places or if he still saw a little girl when he looked at me.

  I suspected he was aware of my changing body and mind because of what happened at my eighteenth birthday party, but that was years ago, and I’d seen him so few times since then…

  I wondered what he was thinking as he watched his best friend tie the knot. Was he both happy and a smidge jealous, like I was? Or was he thinking about someone in particular, someone he loved or maybe thought he could?

  If there was someone special in his life, I hadn’t heard about it, and he hadn’t brought a date to the wedding, which I’d been reading into since I noticed. A flicker of hope rose in me again, but I tried not to dwell on it in case my pathetic optimism was tangible from where he was standing.

  But I knew it wasn’t. No one had ever been able to read me like that. I was a closed book, a book written in a language that only one person on Earth might be able to read… If only I could get him to open me up and drag his fingers across my pages.

  Ugh. What a joke. How was I still so hung up on this guy? Sure, he looked good enough to drink in his tux beneath the soft lights seeping through the stained-glass windows, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still the same guy I’d watched shoot snot rockets as a kid. What the heck was wrong with me?

  Yet, try as I might, I couldn’t reduce him to some gross memory. He was so much more than that. He’d been the one guy who couldn’t bear to see me cry and the one guy who’d do anything to make me laugh for as long as I could remember.

  And I knew in my marrow that no matter what happened, I would love him till the day I died.

  I took a deep breath, suddenly conscious of how hard my clammy hands had been gripping my bouquet and relaxed them. Then I turned my mind back to the night of my eighteenth birthday, felt my smile widen, and refocused on the happy couple just in time to catch their vows.

  T W O

  - Landon -

  I’d been admiring Margot from afar all day, my heart pounding every time I saw her bright smile light up her face. Even now at the reception, she was shamelessly breaking the only rule that matters at weddings: do not outshine the bride.

  But she couldn’t help it. She’d never been able to help how beautiful she was. At least to me.

  Growing up, she tried to hide behind her freckle-covered cheeks and her habit of constantly borrowing Matt’s gnarliest basketball shorts, but even then she was positively radiant.

  Once people began to hit the dance floor and the crowd at our long table started to thin out, I knocked back my whiskey and approached her, leaning a hand on the empty chair to her left. “Care for a dance before your next piece of cake?”

  She lifted her eyes to me as she dragged her fork between her glossy lips. “You better not be counting how many pieces of cake I’ve had.”

  “No, just glasses of white wine.”

  “Oh God, that’s even worse.”

  I extended my hand.

  She laid hers on mine so gently it was almost weightless, and I fought the urge to wrap my thumb around her wrist and drag it across her smooth skin.

  I led her to the dance floor, wishing the room were empty except for us, but we were rarely so lucky. When we reached an unoccupied spot on the parquet, I laid a hand on her hip and pulled her close, keeping her other hand in mine.

  “Are you having a nice time?” she asked, blushing as the space between us disappeared.

  “I am now,” I said, admiring the way her dark lashes called attention to her light blue eyes. “You?”

  “Of course. This day has been a long time coming, and it’s great to see my brother so happy.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Plus, it’s a relief to be done with bridal party duties and finally let my hair down.”

  “No kidding,” I said. “Nothing like a best man’s speech to ruin your sleep every night for a week.”

  “Were you nervous? No one could tell. You did great.”

  “Thanks. The happy couple seemed to think so anyway, which was nice.”

  “I patently refused,” she said. “Public speaking fills me with terror.”

  “Does it?”

  She nodded. “Matt didn’t force the issue because he knows that, but as a trade-off for not speaking today, I have to make an informal toast to him any time he requests it for the next year.”

  I laughed. “Sounds about right.”

  “You must approve of Kelsey,” she said. “I mean, I’ve known her for years, but I don’t really know her, if that makes sense. Not like you do.”

  “Totally approve,” I said. “Matt could only have done worse. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, she saved his ass.”

  Margot finally seemed to be relaxing into the space between my arms, and she was so close I could smell the floral scent of her perfume every time she moved her head and shifted the soft curls that teased the top of her shoulders.

  “What do you mean ‘saved’?” she asked.

  “I mean he completely lost sight of his priorities freshman year to the point of earning a probationary GPA, and she changed all that. Overnight.”

  “I knew you guys partied at school, but I never knew he took it that far.”

  “Everything worked out,” I said, wondering whether her mouth would taste more like icing or white wine. “That’s all that matters.”

  “Has anyone ever saved your ass?”

  “Only your brother.”

  She cast her eyes down at the lack of space between us before flicking them back up at me. “It was your face he saved, though, wasn’t it? Not your ass.”

  I shrugged. “Could’ve been both for all I know.”

  “You can’t even see the scar anymore.” She raised a hand and tentatively dragged two fingers down my cheek, dropping them when she caught me looking at her lips.

  “Thanks to him.”

  “Maybe Kelsey’s his good karma coming back around.”

  “Perhaps,” I said. “And what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Has your good karma brought anyone interesting into your life lately?”

  She scoffed. “My karma’s questionable.”

  My heart was beating so hard at her proximity, I feared it wouldn’t be long before the rest of my body reacted, too. “I find that hard to believe,” I said. “Kind of like the fact that you didn’t bring anyone to the wedding.”

  “Why would I? All the people I want to be around are already here.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “Is that why you didn’t bring anyone?” she asked.

  “I
didn’t bring anyone because there’s no one to bring.”

  “Really? Are you sure you weren’t just spoiled for choice?”

  “Think what you want,” I said. “But the truth is, it didn’t seem right to bring someone when I knew I’d be stealing glances at you all day.”

  “Pffft.”

  “I’m serious, Margot. You look stunning.”

  She swallowed.

  “Prettier than the bride. Prettier than every other woman here.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m surprised they let you be in the pictures, to be honest.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’m just saying, I haven’t seen you in two years, and I wasn’t expecting you to be so—”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “What?”

  “All grown up, I guess.”

  “I’ve been all grown up for a while now, Landon.”

  I loved the way she said my name. “Well, it suits you.”

  “Thanks, but it’s early days,” she said. “Graduating is one thing, but I’ve heard transitioning seamlessly into the real world is another.”

  “You’ll figure it out.”

  She accidentally stepped on my toes. “Sorry about that. I appreciate the vote of confidence anyway.”

  “If you did half as well in school as your brother made it sound—”

  She smiled. “Was he bragging about me?”

  “Always.”

  “Well, he is my number one fan.”

  “I’m not so sure,” I said, my eyes sweeping her face. “There’s some tough competition for that spot these days.”

  Her expression grew serious. “Don’t say stuff like that to me, Landon. It’s cruel for you to torture me.”

  “Trust me. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

  She looked away, her face full of obvious hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, hunching to meet her gaze. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Her eyes were glassy when she turned them back towards me. “That’s the problem,” she whispered. “You never mean anything by it.”

 

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