My Dark Obsession: My Brother's Best Friends

Prologue: Cora

Eight years earlier…

The halls of Westfield High buzzed with energy, students chattering as they rushed to their next classes. The scent of worn textbooks, cheap cologne, and cafeteria pizza lingered in the air, mixing into the distinct fragrance of high school life.

“So, what do you think?” Sarah asked, leaning against the lockers beside mine, her arms crossed in that casual way that made her look effortlessly cool.

“I think if we want any chance of actually completing that stupid essay, we should get started soon,” I huffed, stuffing my history books into my locker with more force than necessary before pulling out my chemistry ones. My bag was already heavy enough, and the last thing I needed was to carry around books I didn’t even need.

Sarah groaned dramatically, tilting her head back against the metal lockers. “Ugh, you’re such a nerd,” she muttered, though the teasing glint in her eyes betrayed her words. “It’s a miracle I pass anything in school without you.”

I rolled my eyes, suppressing a grin. “Maybe if you actually took notes instead of doodling hearts all over your notebook, you wouldn’t need me to rescue your grades.”

She smirked. “Yeah, well, if I didn’t have you, I’d have to charm my way through life.” She flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder before tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Speaking of which, how about your place after school on Friday? We can work on the essay, and I’ll let your dad buy us pizza.”

I groaned, snapping my locker shut before turning to face her. “It would be so much better if you just had a crush on my brother instead of my dad. It’s disgusting.”

Sarah cackled, throwing her head back with laughter, the deep, rich sound echoing through the hallway. People passing by turned their heads, grinning at her infectious joy.

“Oh, come on, Cora,” she said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “You’ve gotta admit, Mr. Mitchell is one hot man.”

I gagged, shuddering in exaggerated disgust. “He’s my dad!” I threw out my arm in protest, but something stopped it midair—something solid, warm, and unmoving.

My breath hitched as my hand landed squarely against a firm stomach, a stomach that felt like it belonged to someone who lived at the gym. My heart plummeted. I knew, even before my gaze trailed upward, exactly who I had just hit.

James Jackson.

The school’s golden boy. The quarterback. The walking dreamboat every girl in school fawned over.

My eyes widened in horror as I yanked my hand back as if I had just touched fire. My mouth opened and closed, but no words came out—just useless gasps as I tried to form a coherent sentence.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I blurted out, feeling heat crawl up my neck. “So, so sorry.”

James grinned—a panty-dropping, heart-stopping, award-winning grin that had undoubtedly left a trail of broken hearts in its wake. His deep brown eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at me.

“No worries,” he said, his voice smooth and easy, like he had never been fazed by anything in his life. Then, as if he had to prove it, he casually lifted his shirt, revealing a six-pack sculpted by the gods themselves.

“See? Nothing happened.”

I wanted to die. Right there, right then, I wanted the ground beneath me to open up and swallow me whole. Every cell in my body burned. My cheeks. My fingertips. My soul.

Beside me, I could sense Sarah frozen, her gaze locked onto James as if he were a mirage in the desert. I wasn’t faring much better. This was James freaking Jackson, the guy every cheerleader screamed for when he scored a touchdown.

“Oh, good,” I mumbled, internally cringing at how lame I sounded. “But still, I should probably be more careful.”

James studied me for a beat too long, his head tilting slightly. His gaze swept over me, slow and considering, before his lips curved into a small, intrigued smile.

“You’re… Cara, right?” he asked.

I gasped. James Jackson almost knew my name.

We had been in the same grade for years, always in the same crowded hallways, but never in the same classes, never in the same social circles. There was no reason he should know who I was.

I quickly tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, suddenly self-conscious. “Cora, actually.”

His expression faltered for just a second. “Oh, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking genuinely apologetic.

“No worries,” I said quickly, offering him a small smile. “How could you know?” I shrugged, trying desperately to act cool instead of the blushing mess I was.

He nodded slightly, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. There was a moment of silence, a pause that stretched between us, charged and uncertain.

“Well,” I said, shifting awkwardly. “I’m sorry… for hitting you. Even if it didn’t hurt.”

A wicked smile curled onto his lips, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Actually,” he said, rubbing his stomach with an exaggerated wince, “it hurt like a motherfucker.”

My face fell. “Oh my God, I—”

“But,” he interrupted, smirking, “you could make it better by letting me take you out. Say… this Friday?” He tilted his head slightly, watching my reaction.

I froze. My heart stopped beating. My brain short-circuited.

James Jackson—the James Jackson—was asking me out.

I instinctively turned to Sarah, looking for help, for guidance, for anything—but she was already grinning like an i***t, vibrating with excitement.

“She’d love to!” she blurted out before I could even open my mouth.

James chuckled, his gaze locking onto mine once more. “Great,” he said smoothly. “Let’s meet outside at three?”

I nodded—too fast, too eager, looking every bit like the i***t I felt. “Yeah! Three! Sounds good!”

He grinned again. “See you then, Cora.” With one last glance at me, he gave Sarah a small nod before walking down the hallway, disappearing into the crowd.

The second he was out of sight, Sarah and I turned to each other. Our eyes wide. Our hands shaking. Our entire worlds tilted off their axis.

And then, we screamed.

Grabbing each other, we jumped up and down, squealing like lunatics, too excited to care who was watching.

James Jackson had just asked me out.

The joy and pure anticipation followed me all the way home, wrapping around me like a warm, comforting embrace, making me smile so wide my cheeks started to ache. It was as if I had just won the lottery, like the entire world had suddenly shifted in my favor. I barely remembered what Chemistry had been about that day, and if we had gotten any homework, it was completely lost on me. None of it mattered. All that mattered was that James Jackson had just asked me out on a date.

James Jackson.

The most delicious, heart-stoppingly attractive guy in the entire world had just asked me out. The one every girl wanted. The one every guy wanted to be. And now, somehow, impossibly, I was going out with him.

I barely registered the ride home, my feet pedaling my bike on autopilot as my mind ran a hundred miles per hour. What would we do on our first date? Should I dress up a little? Or would that be weird since it was right after school? Maybe I should just go with something casual but cute. God, what if he kissed me? Would I be ready for that? What if he wanted to do more than just kiss? Would I let him? Would I actually—

“Why are you smiling like that?”

I startled so hard I nearly tripped over my own feet as I stepped off my bike. My head snapped up, and there he was—David, my annoying older brother, grinning at me like I was the most amusing thing he’d seen all day.

I scowled, hating how much we looked alike. Same dark brown eyes, same full lips, same sharp jawline that everyone in our family seemed to inherit. The only thing I had going for me was that I had gotten Mom’s curves instead of Dad’s square build, but still. It annoyed me to no end how much I resembled him.

“None of your business,” I snapped, my tone sharp, because I was sixteen, and he was my older brother, and that was just how we communicated.

David only grinned wider. “Come on, Bubblegummy,” he teased, making me cringe at the horrific nickname.

God, I hated that name. I had gotten gum stuck in my hair when I was ten, and my dad had to cut it out, leaving me with a jagged, uneven mess for months. Bubblegummy had stuck ever since.

I debated ignoring him, just walking inside and pretending he didn’t exist, but I knew David. He would pester me until he got an answer. Might as well get it over with.

“I was asked out today,” I said, tilting my chin up defiantly.

His eyebrows furrowed immediately, his posture shifting as he slipped into protective big brother mode so fast it was almost comical. But before he could even get a word out, another voice cut through the air. A voice that made my stomach tighten and my thoughts scatter.

“Who asked you out?”

I turned my head, my pulse kicking up a notch. Will.

His deep brown eyes locked onto mine, his brows furrowing just like David’s. He stood there, arms crossed, exuding that casual confidence that had always made my heart stutter.

Will had been my brother’s best friend since forever, always hanging around our house, always treating me like a kid—like I was just David’s little sister and nothing more. But I had loved him for as long as I could remember. He was everything.

And yet, my brain quickly reminded me that he was so far out of my league, it was laughable.

So, instead of dwelling on the impossible, I let my excitement for James Jackson take over again.

“James Jackson,” I announced with a proud smile, stepping up onto the porch. “Only the hottest guy in school.”

The response I got was not what I expected.

Both David and Will let out nearly identical huffs of irritation, their expressions darkening. Their arms crossed over their chests in perfect synchronization as they stared me down, their disapproval practically radiating off of them.

I paused, narrowing my eyes. “What?”

“You’re not going out with anybody,” David said, shaking his head like he actually had a say in my life.

I snorted. “Of course I am.” I crossed my arms over my chest, shifting my weight onto one hip. “I’m sixteen, David. I should be dating. Everyone else is. Should I remind you how you lost your virginity to Louise McAddams when you were fifteen—in the backyard?”

David visibly cringed, and I had to fight the smirk threatening to creep onto my lips.

Yeah, I was that little sister. I knew everything about him. He and his i***t friends had never been discreet. They were always talking loudly, assuming I wasn’t paying attention. But just because my nose was always buried in a book didn’t mean I wasn’t listening.

Will rolled his eyes. “And you wanna turn out like him?” He jerked his thumb toward David, his expression unimpressed.

My stomach fluttered at the sound of his voice, but I forced myself to act indifferent.

Will was everything a twenty-one-year-old guy should be. Tall. Ridiculously muscular. And, of course, training to be a firefighter, because why wouldn’t he have the world’s most attractive job? With his soft brown eyes and messy blond hair, he looked like the boy next door—except way more devastating.

I knew there was probably a line of women begging for his attention.

Women who weren’t sixteen and hopelessly in love with their brother’s best friend.

So, instead of dwelling on that, I huffed and rolled my eyes, trying to appear unbothered.

“You should wait until marriage, Cora,” Will continued, his voice laced with amusement, but there was something else in his tone—something serious. “And you shouldn’t get married until you’re at least thirty, which means dating in high school is a waste of time.”

And then, to top it all off, he gave me that crooked, heart-melting smile. The one that made my knees weak. The one I had dreamed about more times than I cared to admit.

I swallowed, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped.

“Well, maybe I’ll marry him,” I said, lifting my chin and forcing a smirk onto my lips.

Will’s smile faltered.

David groaned. “Oh, for f**k’s sake—”

But I didn’t give them the chance to ruin this for me.

Turning on my heel, I strutted toward the front door, refusing to let them suck the joy out of this moment.

James Jackson—the hottest guy in school—had asked me out.

And nothing my brother or his irritatingly perfect best friend said was going to change that.