Her Brother’s Best Friend

A homecoming

Riley:

The house hadn’t changed. Same chipped paint along the porch rail, same dent in the front door from when my brother and Cade thought playing backyard football in high school would be a good idea. Same street that always smelled faintly of cut grass and motor oil.

But I wasn’t the same.

I stood on the front step with my duffel slung over one shoulder, the weight of four years of college and too many restless nights pressing into my bones. Coming home was supposed to feel safe, familiar. Instead, it felt like pressing rewind on a life I’d already outgrown.

The door swung open before I could knock.

“About time,” my brother, Logan, said, grin crooked, hair as messy as always. He yanked me into a hug that smelled like beer and aftershave. “The prodigal sister returns.”

I laughed into his chest, letting him squeeze me too tightly before pushing away. “Careful, I might think you actually missed me.”

“Don’t push your luck.” He grabbed my bag like it weighed nothing and hauled it inside. “Come on, everyone’s here.”

Everyone. My stomach tightened.

The living room buzzed with voices, clinking bottles, and the hum of music too loud for a Sunday afternoon—Logan’s friends. The same guys who used to steal our Wi-Fi ate all the pizza rolls and left muddy footprints through the kitchen.

And then there was him.

Cade leaned back against the counter, beer bottle loose in his hand, a lazy smirk pulling at his mouth like he knew every secret in the room. He’d grown into himself almost unfairly—broad shoulders filling out a gray t-shirt, dark hair falling across his forehead, stubble roughening his jaw. He wasn’t the reckless boy who used to tease me until I cried. He was sharper now. Dangerous in ways I didn’t want to think about.

His eyes found mine.

For half a second, the noise in the room blurred out, the only sound the quick punch of my heartbeat. Cade’s gaze slid over me, deliberate, unhurried, the kind of look that left heat creeping up the back of my neck.

Then he tipped his beer in a mock toast. “Well, well. If it isn’t little Riley.”

Little. The word landed like a slap.

I forced a smile, tightening my grip on the strap of my purse. “Still recycling the same jokes, Cade? I’d think you’d have grown out of that by now.”

A low chuckle slid from his throat, not quite pleasant. “Guess some habits die hard.”

Logan slung an arm around my shoulder, oblivious. “Riley, you remember everyone.” He started rattling off names, but my focus stayed snagged on Cade—how he watched me like I was both familiar and brand new.

I hated the way it made my pulse trip.

This was temporary, I reminded myself. Just until I figured out my next move. Home was supposed to be simple. Safe. But as Cade’s smirk deepened, a silent promise in the curve of his mouth, I knew nothing about my time here was going to be either.

Cade:

She wasn’t supposed to look like that.

In my head, Riley Lawson was frozen in time. The gangly kid who used to trail after us with skinned knees and an endless supply of questions. The one who always wanted to tag along, who never shut up when we told her no. That version of her was safe, harmless.

The woman standing in Logan’s living room wasn’t harmless. Not even close.

The air shifted when she walked in—like someone had cracked a window in a smoke-filled bar. Fresh, sharp, cutting right through the noise of the guys laughing, the music buzzing low from the speakers. My gaze snagged on her before I could stop it. Longer hair, a little darker than I remembered, catching the light as she pushed it behind her shoulder. Slim waist, soft curves that filled out a tank top, and jeans like they were designed for her.

And those eyes. Still the same shade, still sharp enough to slice through me. But now they didn’t look like a kid’s eyes—they looked like a woman’s. And worse, a woman who knew I was staring.

I forced a smirk to cover the way my pulse jumped. “Well, well. If it isn’t little Riley.”

The words were armor, the same joke I’d used a hundred times, even though my voice came out lower, rougher than I meant it to. I knew she’d bite back. She always did.

Sure enough, she arched a brow, lips curling. “Still recycling the same jokes, Cade? I’d think you’d have grown out of that by now.”

Her tone was dismissive, but the way her throat moved when she swallowed, the faint flush rising on her neck—yeah, she felt it too.

I hated that it made me want to push further.

Logan’s arm slid around her shoulders, tugging her close like a prize he was proud to show off. My best friend is oblivious as hell. He didn’t see the shift in her. He didn’t notice how she carried herself differently now, or how dangerous that smile of hers could be. To him, she was still his baby sister. To me… she was a line I’d been warned never to cross.

I tipped my bottle back, buying time. Cold beer. Bitter taste. A poor substitute for restraint.

The front door opened again, voices spilling into the room. A cluster of girls walked in, laughing, perfume clouding the air. Among them was Julie.

I blinked, caught off guard.

She looked—hell, she looked a lot like Riley. Same dark hair, same kind of eyes, though softer, less cutting. Same build, even. The resemblance was close enough that my chest pulled tight for a second, like my brain wanted to trick me.

Julie flashed me a smile as she passed, and it landed heavy. Too heavy.

Perfect distraction, my mind supplied, unhelpfully quick.

She wasn’t Riley. But maybe that was the point.

I watched as the girls moved into the kitchen, chattering and grabbing drinks, Riley caught in the middle of them like she belonged and didn’t all at once.

She laughed at something one of them said, tilting her head back just enough that my stomach twisted—that sound—pure, unguarded, like I hadn’t heard it in years.

I shoved my hand through my hair, dragging my eyes away before Logan noticed.

This was bad. So bad.

I could handle a night. I’d handled worse temptations. Julie could be an easy out—someone to occupy my hands and my mouth and keep me from making the biggest mistake of my life. Because if I gave in to what my body was screaming at me when Riley looked at me like that? Logan would kill me, no question.

My jaw clenched as Riley’s gaze flicked across the room, brushing mine for the briefest second before darting away. A flicker, but enough to send heat crawling up my spine.

Julie. I reminded myself. Julie was safe. Julie wasn’t forbidden.

But as Riley moved closer to her brother, her arm brushing his like she belonged at his side, all I could think about was how much I wanted her to belong at mine.