Seduced by My Bestie's Brother

You look gorgeous

~ Thelma POV~

“Come on, Thelma, you have to come to my mom's anniversary.”

My best friend Recho’s voice is insistent, yet playful, as if she has not already persuaded me at least ten times today. Her bright eyes sparkle with excitement, and I can already feel the weight of her persistence pressing down on me. That is how she is and yet I love her with all my heart.

The truth is, I want to go. I really do. I want to see the decorations, hear the laughter, maybe even dress up and feel… normal. But there is one obstacle standing between me and that desire, one that has kept me away from countless parties before. One that I don't even know if I can easily just over come in a blink of an eye.

I shrug her insistence away and put my leg on the old wooden floor, eventually shifting to the other side of the bed. I stand there, hoping and praying that she will finally leave me in peace. I have no Idea how I can break it out for her.

Instead, Recho sidesteps the bed, her hands sliding around my waist and before I can react, she pulls me toward her. We tumble together onto the bed, laughter erupting as we fall into a playful heap.These have been our games since childhood.

“Come on, girl. We have to get going!” she insists again, her determination unwavering. Now I know there is no turning back on this.

I groan inwardly. I know this is not going to end peacefully. But I still try, maybe for the hundredth time, to reason with her.

“Give me time to relax, please. You know very well I am not good with parties,” I plead, hoping she’ll take mercy on me this once.

“Don’t begin, Thelma. Whether you want it or not, I am not leaving you here.” Of course that is my best friend for you.

She leans closer, her voice half pleading, half commanding. “Please stop hiding behind the curtains all the time. Life is not going to wait for you.”

And just like that, Recho wins. She somehow gets me out of my bed, out of my bedroom, and onto the street leading to her parents’ house.

It is not far, just across the street, a stone’s throw, but I already feel my heart pounding harder, anticipation twisting into nervousness.

I pause for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to calm myself before crossing the threshold.

Perhaps I should introduce myself properly. My name is Thelma Miles. I’m twenty, currently in college. Recho is my best friend, our bond runs deeper than most because our mothers have been friends since college. That explains a lot, but it doesn’t make me any more comfortable with social events.

“Finally, we’re here!” Recho announces as we step into the hall. A few visitors are scattered about, chatting, laughing softly. The main party won’t begin for another hour.

“Oh, Thelma! I’m so happy to see you,” Recharah, Recho’s mother, says, moving toward us with a wide smile. She hugs me warmly, then Recho, radiating joy.

“You look so smart,” she compliments, eyes sweeping over me, clearly approving.

“All credit goes to your crazy daughter here,” I say jokingly, flashing a smile at Recho, who is already darting around the room, scanning for familiar faces and men she wants to charm. Before I can even register her movement, she has vanished into thin air, leaving me standing with her mother.

“Thelma, I’m grateful to see you, but I have preparations to finish. See you around,” she says and disappears into the crowd, leaving me utterly alone.

This is always the worst part—standing alone in a crowd. I never feel comfortable at parties. Never. Since high school, I have reluctantly attended only when forced, usually by Recho’s relentless persuasion.

I scan the hall, unsure where to begin. The high heels, the unfamiliar dress, the way my hair falls differently, all of it makes me acutely aware of my discomfort. I finally sink into a nearby chair, requesting a glass of water from a passing waitress. The cool liquid is a small relief, but it does little to calm my rapidly beating heart.

As I take the first sip, I sense someone behind me. My chest tightens, my pulse accelerating. I hesitate, almost afraid to turn.

“Hey,” the voice says, calm yet commanding.

Memories, sharp and unwelcome, flood my mind. Three years ago, a moment that I have never forgotten. A secret known only to two people. My stomach twists as my hands tremble. I was a complete mess that I would not over come.

Slowly, reluctantly, I stand and turn. He’s there. Calm, collected, yet his presence hits me like a storm. His piercing blue eyes are sharper, more intense than I remember.

His black hair is slightly messy, combed back, but effortlessly striking. He is more built, more confident. Every detail reminds me of why I have never truly moved past him.

“You look gorgeous,” he says after a long pause, his voice measured, almost teasing and yet it sends a jolt through me.Like always.

“Hmmm…” I murmur, my voice faltering. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I feel like a tomato. My panic makes me stumble over words, over my own thoughts. What is really wrong with me.

I have to get out. I cannot let him see me like this. I cannot make a fool of myself.

“Oh, I have to get going,” I blurt out, moving toward the exit before he can respond.

“Wait,” he says softly, but firmly, stopping me in my tracks.

What the hell!

Dear Readers, all chapters have been edited this year @2025. Don't miss such a juicy book. Give it a try.

Regards

Nancy