Page 28 of My Brother's Best Men
Sophie’s wide eyes sparkle as she grins. “Well don’t let me stop you, then.” She all but shoves the bag at me and I let out a laugh.
“Really living up to the princess title, aren’t ya?” I tease her as I lead us toward the tram.
I try not to stare as we wait for it, but it’s hard because she’s so freaking gorgeous. I know she looked amazing in that tight dress she wore to the dinner last night, but this—baggy sweatpants and a hoodie with her hair piled into a bun on top of her head, big thick glasses instead of contacts…
This is the Sophie I fell in love with.
I mean…it was kind of impossible not to.
Sophie was the only one who never acted like I was dumb. Even when I could barely divide or had to count on my fingers, or had to rework the same problem multiple times only tostillget it wrong, she never acted like I was too dumb to get it. She was patient and kind, and as a teenager who was constantly getting bullied in the locker room or made fun of for being in the special ed class, Sophie was a breath of fresh air.
I looked forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays, to those nights she’d show up in her yoga pants with her hair in a messy bun, sans contacts, with an iced coffee and a smile on her face like she was truly happy to seeme.Not just because she was my tutor, but because she was my friend.
I’m not sure when it happened, but I guess it was inevitable. I wouldn’t be the first guy to fall for his pretty, perky math tutor who’s so far out of his league they aren’t even in the same ballpark.
“After you.” I motion for her to enter the tram before me, because contrary to popular belief, I reallyama gentleman. My mama always said she wasn’t going to let the absence of a daddy in my life turn me into some slug.
Sophie enters the tram, and I can’t help but watch her ass sway as she walks in. I know I shouldn’t look, but sue me. She has a great ass. Not too big, not too small, just curvy enough and plump enough that I know it would be a sight to watch my dick disappear between those cheeks.
Fuck, I need to be careful. I don’t need to come in my pants on the damn air tram at five in the morning. That wouldn’t be verygentlemanlyof me.
So I clear my throat, shift my stance, and adjust my cock again just as the doors shut.
“You okay?” Sophie asks, and I blink, realizing she is indeed talking to me.
“Huh?”
She nods to my hand on my dick and I freeze. “Need a bathroom?” she asks, and I don’t miss the slight flush in her cheeks.
“Uh…I’m good,” I say, feeling strangely on the spot, and really wanting to avoid this conversation. The last thing Sophie needs is to know about my overactive dick that doesn’t know when to quit. I know I’m more sensitive than most guys, I learnedthatthe hard way. Literally.
Somewhere in that first year with Sophie as my tutor, I started to realize I had a…problem. Every time I saw Sophie for a tutoring session, I had to get off after she left because I was always hard as a fucking rock. And I swear, as soon as I’d get off, if I eventhoughtabout Sophie in those yoga pants, or in those low scoop-neck tank tops she always wore, I’d have to rub another one out.
At the time, I just assumed it was because I was young and horny, and that once I had sex, my dick would cool down.
But it’s been a decade and I still haven’t had sex with anyone except my own damn hand. And I can still barely keep up with my steady regimen of self-pleasure. If I don’t come atleastthree times a day, I feel like I’ll explode. Which is why I made absolute certain that I came before we left the house, because I knew it would be a long while before we touched down at our destination and I could get some privacy…
That’s the one nice thing about Benny’s place—even though it’s not huge, Benny and Elijah are never all up in my business, which I appreciate. And seeing as Benny and Eli both work a lot, I usually have the place to myself so my me time is uninterrupted.
But I cannottake care of myself right now at the fucking airport, and certainly not with Sophie in tow. I don’t need her to know about my weird dick problems.
When the tram doors open, I breathe a sigh of relief as we exit, following the flow of traffic. Sophie waits for me by the escalator, looking as cute as ever, and that certainly doesn’t help matters.
“Down, boy,” I mutter to myself, trying to stay focused.
Goal: Get Sophie to the gate without busting a damn nut. Should be easy, right?
“Thanks again,” she says as I approach her, taking her spot on the moving stairs. I get behind her, trying my hardest not to look at her perfect ass again. I keep my eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on my breathing.
I am not here to ogle my high school math tutor in her perfect, tight yoga sweats. I’m here for a beach vacay and a wedding, damn it!
When Sophie walks forward, I realize a moment too late and nearly trip with her carry-on and mine over the ledge, causing a damn pileup in the process.
“Sorry,” I say to the grumbling people who are tripping and falling behind me.
“Oh my God, are you okay, Matt?” Sophie asks, coming to my aid like the angel she is. Suddenly the influx of embarrassment and stupidity subsides as she grasps my arm, and I look into her bright green eyes and find my center.
It’s been years since I’ve seen her, and yet she hasn’t changed one bit. I know that, because when I look in her eyes, I see the same Sophie who stole my heart all those years ago.
