In Love with My Brother's Best Friend

Five

EUNICE

"You've been dodging me all night, Eunice," he said, his stare pinning me in place, unyielding. "I wasn't about to let you vanish on me again."

I curled into myself on the stone bench, my knees drawn up tight against my chest, the drenched fabric of my clothes plastered to every contour.

It did nothing to cool the inferno raging inside me.

He was dangerously close, and the bench felt like a cage I had no desire to escape.

"I wasn't running," I whispered.

His eyes dragged down, tracing over my lips, my throat, before snapping back up to lock onto mine, devouring my face as if branding every detail into his memory.

"Don't lie to me."

He shifted, stretching one broad arm along the back of the bench, caging me in without making direct physical contact. His fingers hovered just shy of my bare shoulder, the intense heat radiating off his skin feeling like a silent demand. My body betrayed me instantly, my pulse spiking as a sudden shiver ran down my spine.

"You flinched every time my eyes landed on you," he murmured, leaning in until his warm breath scorched my skin in the cool night air.

"Sank lower in the water like you could hide from me if you tried hard enough."

His gaze dropped, slow and unhurried, to where my soaked shirt clung to my body, outlining my silhouette under the moonlight. He lingered there, completely unashamed.

"That shirt wasn't hiding a damn thing," he said, his voice dropping low and rough. "It was drawing my attention the entire time."

A wave of intense heat surged across my cheeks, spilling down my neck. My lungs felt frozen, my body locked in place.

A low, quiet chuckle rolled from him—dark, satisfied, and heavy with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what effect he had. I knew I should have stepped away, should have walked back toward the safety of the house, but my legs refused to obey.

"You're trembling," he said softly. "Think I wouldn't notice how deeply this is affecting you?"

"Stop," I breathed, the word coming out fragile and useless.

He leaned in closer, his lips grazing the delicate shell of my ear, his voice dropping to a low whisper.

"Stop what?" he teased gently. "Watching you since the second you stepped out of your house tonight? Feeling you tense up every time my thigh brushed yours on that scooter ride over?"

Oh God, he knew.

"Or admitting how much I liked seeing you like this—realizing I wasn't going to look away?"

My heart slammed against my ribs so violently it almost hurt. I turned my head just slightly, and the tiny gap between us virtually vanished. His dark eyes were intense, completely stripped bare of his usual casual armor under the moonlight.

This was happening. And heaven help me, I wanted it. I wanted him.

"Denver," I whispered. It came out like a plea.

He didn't pull back. Instead, his hand rose slowly, deliberately, his thumb gently tracing the slipped strap of my wet shirt, grazing the bare skin of my shoulder. One single stroke. Light, yet deeply possessive.

I gasped, the sound sharp and involuntary.

"Tell me to stop," he said. "Say the word, and I'll walk away right now."

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I couldn't say it. Deep down, every fiber of my being was begging him to stay, to bridge the remaining distance between us.

A slow smile touched his lips.

"Good."

He stayed right there, close enough that my body leaned toward his on instinct, close enough that his every exhale ghosted over my lips. Still barely touching, yet the air between us crackled with undeniable tension.

"Your choice," he whispered against my ear, his lips barely brushing my skin. "But know this..."

He paused, letting the weight of the silence settle between us.

"I don't push people who genuinely want to be left alone."

He started to lean back, shifting his weight to give me space, and a sudden wave of panic surged through me.

"Wait, Denver."

He froze, his dark eyes sharp and searching. "Yeah?"

"What... what are you doing?" My voice shook slightly. "Why are you suddenly like this with me?"

He let out a heavy breath, closing the tiny distance between us once more, pressing close enough that his warmth seeped through my cold clothes.

"You've never shown me this side of you," I whispered, looking up at him. "You're sending signals that are driving me crazy. Signals I never dreamed I'd get from you."

His gaze held mine, his voice dropping into a raspy register. "Honestly? I don't even know when it started. One day, you weren't just Paulo's little sister anymore. You grew up, Eunice. And now I can't stop thinking about you, about being close to you like this."

My lips parted on a shaky breath. "You... think about us?"

"Yeah. Us," he admitted softly. "If I could just ignore the fact that you're Paulo's sister. If I could just hold you without feeling like I'm breaking every rule in the book."

"You... actually wanted me?" My voice cracked slightly on the words.

A slow, warm smile spread across his face as he leaned in, his shoulder brushing mine deliberately, sending another shiver through me.

"Ever since that night you wore that red dress," he confessed quietly. "You looked incredible that night. It's been living rent-free in my head ever since."

I froze. That night, he had teased me casually, acting as if he barely noticed my existence. And now, hearing this felt surreal.

"But if this makes you uncomfortable, if I'm crossing a line, I'll back off," he added, his tone softening sincerely. "I'll stop right now. Just tell me."

"No." The word flew out of my mouth before my brain could censor it. "I don't want you to stop."

Denver went completely still. "What?"

"I've wanted you for years," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, all my hidden feelings finally spilling out into the open. "Always. I just... I never thought you'd ever look at me like this."

The silence in the garden stretched between us, charged and electric.

Then he moved. Fast.

His hand reached out, catching mine and gently pulling me closer as his other palm cupped my jawline. Before I could catch my breath, his mouth came down on mine.

The kiss was sudden, intense, and intoxicating—a sudden rush of warmth and energy that swept away years of hesitation. I melted into his touch instantly, wrapping my hands around his shoulders and kissing him back with all the pent-up emotion I'd kept buried inside for five long years.

When we finally broke apart to breathe, our foreheads rested against each other, our chests heaving in tandem. His eyes were molten, filled with a raw intensity that made my head spin.

Without hesitation, I reached up, looping my arms tightly around his neck, my fingers tangling in the damp dark hair at the nape of his neck to pull him back down to me.

"Denver," I breathed against his lips as his hands settled firmly on my waist, pulling me flush against his chest.

"You're completely driving me crazy, Eunice," he murmured against my mouth, his grip holding me steady, anchor-like.

"I'm done hiding how I feel," I replied, my pulse racing as I held onto him.

He groaned softly, taking my mouth once more in a deep, sweeping kiss that left me completely breathless. His hands shifted to my back, lifting me slightly until I was sitting comfortably in his lap, fully wrapped in his warmth.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me right now," he growled playfully between kisses, his teeth gently catching my lower lip.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," I countered, breathless and bold, feeling the shift in our dynamic and refusing to let it slip away. "I'm not that shy girl hiding on the stairs anymore."

Denver went rigid for a beat, a deep sound rumbling in his chest, before my phone suddenly shrilled from inside my tote bag on the ground, slicing violently through the stillness of the garden.

I fumbled for it with trembling fingers, pulling the screen up. Mom.

"Answer it," Denver murmured softly, his hand remaining locked around my waist, his thumb gently caressing my side to keep me grounded.

"Hello? Yeah, Mom... okay, I'll tell Paulo," I managed to say into the receiver, my voice still slightly uneven.

I hung up and met Denver's gaze, disappointment plain across my face. "She wants us all heading home now."

Denver saw it, felt the shift, but instead of pulling away completely, his expression softened. He raised his hand, brushing a gentle thumb across my lower lip.

"Then we head back," he murmured, his voice still carrying a raspy edge of restraint. "But this conversation isn't over, Eunice. Not even close."