Her Best Friend: Braxton Brothers Series Book Two

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Her Best Friend: Braxton Brothers Series Book Two Page 13

by Meyer, Anne-Marie


  “Why lie?” Heather asked, leaning over to flip off the water.

  Tiffany buried her face in her hands. “I didn’t want to prove to everyone that, yet again, I suck at relationships. The boyfriend I was going to bring dumped me last week. Jonathan offered to come as my date so I could save face.”

  Heather nodded. “And you fell in love with him.”

  Tiffany choked on her tongue as she turned to study her friend. “What?”

  Heather snorted. “Oh, come on, Tiffany, it’s so obvious. You’re always looking at him. You blush when he touches you. You looked like you were about to claw Beatrice’s face off when I told you she’s off visiting him.” Heather clicked her tongue. “It’s pretty obvious you have feelings for him.”

  Tiffany cradled her head in her hands. As much as she hated that Heather had pegged the situation perfectly, she wasn’t sure it was good for her to hear.

  It was easy enough to ignore her feelings when she didn’t acknowledge them. But now they were staring her in the face, forcing her to confront them. And she didn’t like it.

  “Heather, I can’t. What if I fail? What if I lose him for good?” Tiffany glanced over at Heather, pleading for the answer to her situation.

  Heather took in a deep breath and shrugged. “It’s up to you. I mean, if you love him, take the chance. But if you don’t think that’s something you can do, then you need to let him go.” She reached over and ran her fingers through the water. “It’s not fair to string him along.”

  Tiffany twisted until she was kneeling by the tub and dipped her fingers into the water. It felt good. In a way, it sort of shocked her system into remembering that she was alive.

  “And if I lose him?” She glanced over at Heather.

  Heather gave her a soft smile. “From what I’ve seen when he looks at you, he’s not going anywhere. I doubt you could fight him off with a stick. That boy loves you. And I’m sure your friendship means more to him than anything.”

  Tiffany’s heart began to pound at Heather’s words. Jonathan loved her. And if she loved him back, she needed to let him go. He deserved someone better than her. Someone much better.

  Heather sighed. “I know that look,” she said, leaning over to bump Tiffany’s shoulder with her own.

  Tiffany studied her. “What?”

  “You’re going to run.”

  Tiffany pulled her fingers from the water and flicked the excess water from her fingers before reaching over to grab a towel. “You said if I loved him, I’d let him go.”

  Heather snorted. “Of course that would be the only thing you heard.”

  Confused, Tiffany sat down on the toilet seat. “But you said—”

  “Out of everything I said, that was what you fixated on? Letting him go? Walking away?”

  “But—”

  “Tiffany, you have to start believing that you are worthy of love. You need to forget whatever happened in the past and focus on the present. What’s staring you in the face.” Heather’s expression softened. “Because what you have with him is about as real as you’re ever going to get.”

  Tiffany studied her cousin. She wanted to admit that Heather was right. But she couldn’t. Not when things were so confusing and muddled in her mind.

  “I know,” she whispered, but before she could say anything more, two giggling bridesmaids burst into the room with flutes of champagne.

  “We’re here for our pedicures,” they said in unison as they kicked off their flip-flops and stumbled over to the tub.

  Taking this as her cue to leave, Tiffany waved to Heather and slipped out of the bathroom.

  She spent the rest of the night curled up on the armchair in Stacy’s room. She really wasn’t in the mood to party. Besides, someone had to keep the other girls from calling up ex-boyfriends or ordering a stripper.

  At two in the morning, there was a knock on the door. Tiffany sidestepped a few of the girls who had passed out on the floor and made her way over. She opened the door to reveal Beatrice.

  She looked happy. And it made Tiffany sick to her stomach.

  “Hey,” Tiffany said as she leaned on the door.

  Beatrice smiled at her and then peeked over Tiffany’s shoulder. “Sorry. I was…busy. Are they still up?”

  Tiffany shook her head. Even if they were, she would have lied to Beatrice. There was no way she wanted to sit in the same room as her. Not when Beatrice had just spent the evening with Jonathan—doing who knows what.

  No. Right now, she needed Beatrice to leave so she could keep her sanity.

  “Oh. Then I’ll probably head to bed,” Beatrice said as she folded her arms over her chest.

  “Sounds good,” Tiffany said as she began to shut the door.

  “Hey, Tiff?”

  Tiffany hesitated and then turned. “Yeah?”

  “You should talk to Jonathan. He’s confused and worried he lost you as a friend.”

  Tiffany winced. He’d talked to Beatrice about her? What was she supposed to say to that? Mustering her strength, Tiffany nodded. “Okay. I will.”

  Beatrice gave her a soft smile and then turned and headed down the hallway.

  Tiffany shut the door and collapsed against it. She pinched her lips as tears welled up in her eyes.

  How could things have gotten so bad so fast?

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning, Jonathan sat on the bed with one leg brought up and his ankle was resting on his knee. He was showered and getting dressed for the wedding he’d been roped into being in.

  At the time, it had felt great. Helping out Tiffany’s cousin was, in a way, helping out Tiffany. But now she was mad at him. She hadn’t even come back to the room last night.

  He’d really screwed up when he’d kissed her.

  His lips burned from the memory of her lips pressed to his. That was the part that killed him. She’d kissed him back. He was sure he hadn’t made that up. Tiffany cared about him the same way he cared about her. He could feel it in his bones.

  But she was running, and there didn’t seem to be anything he could do to stop her.

  Sighing, he slipped on his sock and then moved to put on the other one. Then he leaned over to grab his shoes.

  His phone rang next to him. Resting the shoes on the bed, he grabbed it to see that it was James, his younger brother.

  A smile played on his lips as he hit the talk button.

  “Hey, loser,” he said with all the affection he could muster.

  “Nice.” James’s deep voice caused him to chuckle.

  “What’s up?” he asked as he untied his shoes and slipped his feet into them.

  “Not much. Just calling to see how things are there. Mom wanted me to check in with you guys, so that’s what I’m doing.”

  Jonathan shrugged. Even though he was going through something right now, the last thing he wanted to do was tell James. At least, not until he’d worked through whatever was going on. “I’m at a wedding with Tiffany,” he said, hoping he sounded more relaxed than he felt.

  “Yeah? How’s that going?”

  Jonathan closed his eyes as he shook his head. “Well, you know. Beating the single ladies off with a stick.”

  James chuckled. “Yep. Sounds about right. Did you hear about Josh and Beth? Crazy, huh?”

  Jonathan chuckled. “Not if you were here. Josh is whipped.” His heart squeezed at the thought of his brother finally finding the girl of his dreams. At least she wanted him. Tiffany was more than ready to run away than to face what they could have.

  “Mom’s ecstatic. Josh said she’s already saving a date.”

  “Sounds like Mom.”

  “I told him if he does get married, I’ll make sure to come out for it. Mom must have heard. So, be prepared to be pressured.”

  Jonathan nodded. “Will do, man. But, hey, I’m part of the wedding party and I need to finish getting ready. Can I call you later?”

  “Yep.”

  “Perfect. I’ll talk to you then.”
/>   “Bye.”

  Jonathan said goodbye and then hung up the phone. He set it next to him and let out his breath and the stress that was building up inside of him. He loved the fact that he’d been able to talk with his brother, but it’d only reminded him of how alone he felt and how badly he wanted to connect with a certain someone.

  And that someone was the one person who seemed as if she wanted nothing to do with him.

  The sound of a keycard at the door drew his attention over. His head raced as he stared at the door, wondering if it was Tiffany on the other side.

  When the door opened, and Tiffany walked through, he wanted to celebrate and crawl under the bed at the same time. He studied her face, wondering if she was going to give anything away. Was she still mad at him?

  “Hey,” he said, standing to greet her. He moved toward her, but from the panicked look on her face, he pulled back. He dipped down so that he could study her. “Everything okay?”

  Tiffany nodded. “Yes. I spent the night in Stacy’s room. Sort of a last-minute hurrah before today.” She pressed on her hair that was styled in an up-do. “And then we went and got our hair done.” She met his gaze and gave him a sheepish smile. “I hope I didn’t worry you.”

  He held her gaze, hoping she could see that he wasn’t angry. Sad, yes. But he couldn’t be mad at her. He loved her too much. And if she needed him to back off, he would. “No, not worried.”

  She pinched her lips together and then ducked her head to make her way over to the mirror. She started pulling out her makeup and setting it on the counter.

  He wasn’t willing to let that be the end of their conversation. He was going to talk to her even if she didn’t want him to. He was going to stay her friend. He wouldn’t just let her run away.

  “So, Stacy’s, huh? Anything crazy happen last night?”

  Tiffany paused with a makeup brush in her hand. She lifted her gaze up until it met Jonathan’s in the mirror. She looked at him for a moment and then shrugged. “Not really. Pedicures and alcohol. Those ladies can drink me under the table.” A soft smile played on the edges of her lips as she got a far-off look in her eyes.

  “I can see it.”

  She glanced back at him and nodded. “Beatrice came a bit late, though.”

  At the mention of Beatrice, Jonathan shifted his weight. He knew that it probably hadn’t been the smartest decision, letting her into his room last night. But he needed to talk to someone about Tiffany. A family member felt like a safe bet.

  “She was here,” he said. There was no way he wanted her to think that anything had happened between them. He didn’t like Beatrice like that, and he would never do that to Tiffany. “We just talked. That was it.”

  Tiffany’s forehead furrowed. “I know. She told me.” She smiled over at him. It felt forced and insincere. “It’s okay. You’re single. You can date who you want to.”

  Jonathan’s ears rang at her words. That was not what he was expecting her to say. “I—”

  “We got carried away last night, that’s all. Probably a bit too much drinking was involved in the making of those events.” She smiled again, this time showing more teeth. “I don’t hold you accountable for your actions, just as I’m sure you don’t hold me to mine.”

  Wow. Talk about a sucker punch to the gut. Before, it had been easy to believe that she was just hurting. But a complete denial of last night was not what he’d expected. How could she be so cavalier about the whole situation?

  He’d been there last night. He’d felt her pressed against him. She’d kissed him back—she’d wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Tiffany was a good actress, but she wasn’t that good.

  He glanced up to see her focused on her makeup. He wanted to say something back. He wanted to correct her, to get her to say what he knew was in her heart. But he doubted she would.

  So he pushed off the wall and walked across the room to grab his suit coat.

  How could she act this relaxed? He knew she felt something too.

  After shoving his arms through and pulling the jacket up onto his shoulders, he made his way over to the window and stared down at the pool below. The water glistened in the morning sun, making him want to jump in just to see the water interrupted.

  He needed to get out of this room. Out of the awkwardness that surrounded the two of them.

  The sound of the bathroom door softly shutting caused him to glance over his shoulder. Tiffany wasn’t in the room.

  Not wanting to stand by the window anymore, Jonathan turned and made his way over to the bed, where he sat down. He hung his head as he took a few deep breaths.

  This was not the way he should be approaching this. If she needed space, he should give it to her. If he still wanted her friendship, then he needed to play by her rules no matter how much it hurt.

  A few minutes later, she emerged, dressed in a gold satin dress. She looked…beautiful.

  Jonathan itched to take her into his arms and tell her how he felt, despite the consequences, and lay everything out on the line.

  Her gaze met his as she made her way over to her suitcase and grabbed her shoes. Jonathan cleared his throat as he gave her a quick smile, hoping to mask the pain he felt.

  “You look amazing,” he said in his normal, flirty voice.

  Tiffany stopped and turned her gaze up to him. “Thanks,” she said. Her eyebrows were raised as she studied him, and then she turned back to digging through her clothes.

  “I mean that in a friend type of way,” he said, holding up his hands.

  She glanced over at him. “Okay.”

  Worried that he was stepping over the line, he chuckled. But instead of it coming out relaxed, it sounded as forced as it felt. “I’ve moved on from last night. You’re right. It was a drunken mistake.” He held up his left hand. “I promise never to bring it up or try that again.” He morphed his expression into one that he hoped came across as disgusted.

  Tiffany’s expression stilled as she met his gaze. She held it for a moment, and Jonathan almost passed out from the confusion he felt. What was she thinking about? Had he said something wrong? He swore that being just friends was what she’d wanted. But now? He didn’t know.

  And he hated that he felt so confused.

  Thankfully, she gave him a soft smile and nodded. “Sounds good.” She approached him with her hand extended. “Friends?”

  He stared at her hand and then grabbed it, forcing down all the feelings that rose up inside of him from her touch. He couldn’t feel that way for her, and the sooner he fought it off, the better.

  He wanted Tiffany in his life no matter what.

  “Friends,” he said. He shook her hand a few more times and then smiled over at her. “Luke needs his Leia.”

  Tiffany nodded, the sides of her lips tipping up into a smile. “Agreed.”

  They stood there for a few seconds. Jonathan felt the tension he’d been feeling this whole trip slowly fade. He was standing next to his best friend. The one girl that had stayed in his life. She was the constant lighthouse that he always came back to.

  She was his everything. And he couldn’t lose that.

  He nodded toward the door. “Shall we? Stacy and Rob need to get married.”

  Tiffany let out a deep sigh and nodded. “Yeah they do. She’s was all sorts of crazy last night. I had to talk her off a cliff.”

  Jonathan chuckled as he followed Tiffany out into the hallway.

  “You’re a good cousin. That was nice of you to take care of her.”

  Tiffany nodded as she adjusted the skirt of her dress. “Well, it’s what I would want on my wedding day. My family having my back. Even though certain members of it have sucked.”

  Jonathan glanced over at her. He knew what she was talking about. Her dad. The man who left so many years ago and was never heard from again save the yearly Christmas card he sent with a photo of his new family tucked inside of it.

  The one guy who’d disappointed Tiffany over and over again.

&
nbsp; They walked to the elevator in silence, and Jonathan pressed the down button. Once the doors opened, Jonathan stepped inside, followed by Tiffany.

  The door closed and soft orchestra music filled the silence. Jonathan peeked over at Tiffany, wondering what she was thinking. Was she thinking about him? Was it wrong that he hoped she was?

  “So I got a call from James,” he said, shoving his hands into his pants pockets.

  Tiffany glanced over at him. “Really? What’s he up to?”

  Jonathan shrugged. “Apparently Mom’s been calling all of us to tell us about Josh and Beth’s relationship. I have a feeling she’s hoping it inspires us to follow suit.”

  Tiffany laughed. It was melodious and familiar. She tipped her head back, exposing the feminine curves to her neck. Her skin looked smooth and touchable.

  Blinking a few times helped him clear his mind. That was not what he was supposed to be thinking about. She was his friend. That was it.

  “Your mom,” Tiffany said as her laughter died down. She reached up to dab at her eyes. “She’s my favorite.”

  Jonathan nodded. “She’s great. She definitely means well.”

  Tiffany glanced over at him, her smile open and unabashed. “She does. You’re lucky.”

  “Yeah. I am.”

  The elevator’s doors slid open, exposing the members of the wedding party who were lingering in the foyer. Jonathan followed Tiffany out. He tried not to stare when Cody walked up to Tiffany and pulled her into a hug. He also tried hard not to stare when Tiffany pulled away and leaned in to talk to him. What was she saying?

  Cody’s smile widened as he nodded. Then he leaned in, gave her a hug, and waved toward the pool where he’d be serving drinks later. He made some motion with his hands like he was typing numbers into a phone, but Tiffany just shrugged and reached out to brush her fingers against his arm.

  Jonathan had never felt so frustrated. He wanted to know what was going on, but he couldn’t see Tiffany’s face or hear what was being said. He wanted to hope that she was breaking things off, but that felt like a fool’s errand.

  “Hey,” Beatrice’s soft voice startled him. She was peering up at him with a smile on her lips. Her hair was pulled up in the same way Tiffany’s was, and she was wearing the same dress.

 

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