Ruined By My Brother’s Best Friend

I was halfway through touching myself when my phone lit up with Damien Vale’s name. I froze instantly. The room was dark except for the weak light from my bedside lamp, my breathing uneven beneath the blanket while the phone kept vibrating against my mattress. Damien. Of course it had to be him. My brother’s best friend. The one man I absolutely should not think about late at night. Especially not like this. Heat rushed into my face as I stared at the screen. My heart was beating too fast, body still tense from thoughts I definitely didn’t want him somehow hearing through the phone. The call kept ringing. I should ignore it. That would’ve been the smart thing. Instead, I answered. “Hello?” My voice came out softer than normal. Breathless enough that I immediately regretted speaking. Silence. Just for a second. Then Damien spoke. “Did I wake you?” His deep voice slid through me in the worst possible way. “No,” I said quickly. Too quickly. I heard him exhale softly on the other end, and somehow that tiny sound made my stomach tighten. “What are you doing?” Such a simple question. Still, my mind immediately betrayed me. Thinking about you. My grip tightened around the phone. “Nothing.” A low chuckle came through the line. Damien rarely laughed. That made it worse. “You’re a terrible liar, Sophia.” I closed my eyes. God. Even hearing my name in his voice did dangerous things to me lately. Outside, rain tapped softly against my apartment windows while silence stretched between us again. Not awkward silence. Heavy silence. The kind that felt like something was about to happen. “You shouldn’t call me this late,” I whispered finally. “Probably not.” But he still hadn’t hung up. Neither had I. That was the real problem between us. Neither one of us knew how to stop this anymore. For months, Damien had looked at me differently. Longer stares. Rougher voice. The kind of tension that turned every room too small whenever he walked inside it. And lately— It felt like his self-control was getting thinner. “You were thinking about me again, weren’t you?” My breath caught immediately. Straight to the point. No hesitation. Like he already knew the answer. “Damien—” “Tell me I’m wrong.” I sat up slowly against the headboard, pulse racing now. He sounded calm. Too calm. Meanwhile, my entire body felt warm from embarrassment and something much more dangerous. “You have an ego problem,” I muttered. Another soft laugh. “You didn’t answer the question.” Because I couldn’t. Not honestly. Not when my body still reacted to him far too easily. Not when I remembered the way he looked at me earlier tonight at dinner—those dark eyes dragging slowly over my legs before meeting my gaze like he was imagining things he shouldn’t. The silence between us deepened. Then Damien spoke again, quieter this time. “You know what the worst part is?” I swallowed hard. “What?” “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”