Page 8 of Kissing My Brother's Best Friend

Unsurprisingly, he ignores me. He groans when I find him pulling a cushion over his face, even when I raise my foot to nudge him. “Fuck off, Liam.”

I chuckle. “Not an option, man. You already missed morning hydration. If you don’t get up now, Coach is going to run you into the ground.”

Brody lowers the pillow, looking green in the gills, his bloodshot eyes glaring at me. “I think I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying. You’re just hungover. As usual. You’d think by now you’d be used to it.” I grab a water bottle from the counter and chuck it at him. “Drink. Shower. We leave in fifteen.”

Brody grumbles but manages to sit up, taking a long sip of water before dragging himself toward the bathroom. While he struggles through his misery, I dress for practice, pulling on my compression shorts and team-issued gear. I should be focused on the drills, on the plays Coach will be running us through, but all I can think about is Anna. Anna. Anna.

Her mouth on mine, the taste of her skin, the way it felt to be inside her, and the noises she couldn’t hold back when I made her come.

Fuck.

I shake my head, trying to brush the memories off, at least for the moment. I can savor them later, but now there’s work to be done and a hungover best friend to babysit.

Once we get to the field, Brody simply looks sick, not like he wants to crawl into a hole and die anymore. It’s a slight improvement, at least. He’s wearing dark sunglasses despite the overcast sky, and I swear he winces at every sound. I, on the other hand, feel wired. Ready. More energized than usual, even though I barely slept.

Then I see her.

Anna is sitting in the bleachers, her legs crossed, a coffee cup in her hands. I invited her, but I wasn’t sure if she’d show up after how intense everything was last night. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she needed time to process, but damn, am I glad she came.

Dressed in skin-tight leggings and a red tank top, she’s fucking gorgeous. And even better, she’s watching me. Not a single other soul on the team, even her brother. Just me.

I’ve never been self-conscious about my performance on the field before, and I’ve played in front of Anna dozens of times already. Today isn’t any different, and I go through the motions like I always do, working myself to the bone in search of even the slightest edge of improvement.

It would be a lie to say she isn’t a distraction, though. Every time I meet her eyes, even at a distance, it’s like being hit by a truck. Our connection is so strong that it’s almost a tangible thing.

It pisses me off that Brody makes it to her first during the first water break, but he’s her brother, and I need to back off if I don’t want to raise suspicion. He talks to her for a few minutes, probably wondering why she’s even here, and by the time he’s done, the break is up. Dammit.

But then she smiles at me, and all is right in the world again.

I throw myself into the rest of the practice hard, burning off all the energy I can so I can stop fixating on rushing the bleachers and pulling her against me, crushing my mouth to hers, Brody be damned.

It works. Barely.

As soon as the whistle blows and practice is over, I jog over to her, ignoring all the chatter from my teammates about where they’re going for lunch.

“Hey,” she says brightly as I reach the bleachers.

“Hey. You’re still here.”

“Yeah, I figured I might as well stick around after all the hard work you put in today.”

I grin. “Well, I appreciate it. Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”

She jogs down the few remaining stairs, and when she reaches the bottom, I offer my hand to help her down. The second she’s steady, her eyes flicker to where Brody is packing up, and she gives me an apologetic smile. I let the moment go, trying to ignore the disappointment I feel at the loss of contact with her.

She’d hold my hand if he weren’t here. Somehow that makes me more pissed off at Brody than dealing with his hangover.

We head to a cafe across campus, where Anna orders a chicken sandwich, and I get a burger, starving from practice. As we eat, the conversation drifts to last night.

“So...” I say, chewing and swallowing a bite before continuing. “Last night was pretty crazy, huh?”

She smiles, and color flushes high in her cheeks. “Yeah, crazy is one word for it. I definitely didn’t plan it.”

“Neither did I,” I admit quickly. “I mean, don’t think I wasn’t thinking about it, but I just didn’t expect it to happen like that.”

“Me either.” She takes a bite of her sandwich, chewing slowly. “Is this going to be awkward?”

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