Page 58 of Protected By My Best Friend's Brother

I take a bite of ice cream, considering the question as mint and chocolate melt on my tongue. How could I explain the complex swirl of emotions that tonight had created? The professional pride at impressing the Johnsons, the hurt at Lucas’s attempted protection, the relief at our resolution, and the lingering uncertainty about what comes next?

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I trace patterns in the condensation on my glass. “It’s just... for a moment there, when he started talking about protection and restructuring, all I could think was, ‘Here we go again.’ He is making decisions about what’s best for me without asking me.”

“Like two years ago?” Sophie’s voice softens with understanding.

“Yeah.” I poke at the ice cream, creating little valleys and mountains on the green surface. “Is it stupid that part of me fears he’ll do it again? Just decide one day that leaving is the best way to protect me?” The fear feels small and irrational in the warm safety of Sophie’s apartment but no less real.

Sophie is quiet for a moment, swirling her wine thoughtfully. The light from her tasteful floor lamp catches the ruby liquid, casting small crimson reflections on her hand. When she speaks, her usual teasing tone is absent.

“You know what I remember about that time? The week after he left, you came over every day. Not to cry or talk about him. Just to help Mom with her garden or watch bad reality TV with me. Like you were making sure we knew you weren’t going anywhere.”

The memory catches in my chest—how desperately I’d clung to the Walker family when Lucas walked away. How terrified I’d been that I might lose them, too.

“Your family was my family, too.” My voice catches. “Still is.”

“Always will be.” She bumps my shoulder gently, her smile soft. “And Lucas knows that now. He’s not the same guy who ran away to prove himself. Though he’s still an overprotective idiot sometimes.”

“He gets that from your dad.”

“My goodness, remember when your car broke down senior year? Dad insisted on having his mechanic completely rebuild the engine ‘just to be safe.’” She adopts James Walker’s deeper tone. “‘Young women need reliable transportation, Sophie. It’s not just about convenience; it’s about safety.’”

The memory makes me smile, easing some of the tension in my shoulders. “He called it a graduation present.”

“More like a ‘my son’s best friend needs a reliable car’ present.” Sophie tops off our wine, the bottle making a gentle glug as it pours. “You know what else I remember about that time?”

“Hmm?”

“How you stood up to the board when they wanted to shut down the solar division. Everyone expected you to back downbecause you were just an analyst, but you walked in there with color-coded sustainability metrics and proved them all wrong.”

I remember that day with perfect clarity—the way my hands shook as I arranged my presentation materials, how Garrett watched with barely concealed disdain, and the moment I realized my data was strong enough to change minds regardless of my junior status.

“That was different.”

“Was it? Because from where I’m sitting, you’ve always been the one person in this company who isn’t afraid to fight for what’s right. Even when that means standing up to your boyfriend about treating you like you need protection instead of support.” Sophie tilts her head, studying me with unexpected insight.

I lean my head on her shoulder, the familiar scent of her perfume—something expensive with notes of jasmine—comforting me. “Where is all this wisdom coming from?”

“Please, I’ve been wise since birth. You two are just finally catching up.” She steals a bite of ice cream off my spoon, causing me to swat at her hand. “Though I have to say, watching Lucas realize he was being an idiot was pretty entertaining. Mom really let him have it.”

“Elizabeth did?”

“Oh yeah. Full ‘you’re acting just like your father speech’ and everything. It was glorious.” Sophie’s expression turns wickedly gleeful. “She had this look—you know, the one where she seems completely pleasant but is actually filleting you alive? Lucas got the full treatment.”

“I love your mom.”

“She loves you too. She has since you started coming over to ‘study.’” Sophie makes air quotes with her free hand, nearly spilling wine in the process. “Though I noticed there wasn’tmuch focus tonight while you and Lucas were dancing on the terrace.”

Heat creeps up my neck, remembering the intimacy of that moment—his arms steady around me, moonlight painting everything in silver. “We were resolving conflict like mature adults.”

“Is that what they’re calling it now?”

I throw a decorative pillow at her head. She dodges, laughing, wine sloshing dangerously close to the edge of her glass.

“Seriously though,” she says after a moment, her expression sobering. “I’m glad you two figured it out. And not just because I’ve been planning your wedding since junior year.”

“Sophie!”

“What? Like you haven’t thought about it.” She grins at my blush. “Besides, Mom’s already picked out china patterns. Something about sapphire accents that would perfectly complement her earrings.”

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