Page 6 of My Brother's Best Men
Before I can dig my hole any deeper and put my foot in my mouth, Elijah gets up, heading toward me, which only makes me panic. It’s like the room shifts as he gets closer, like the heat inside me flares from him alone.
I need to move. To get out of here. Fast. Because the closer Elijah gets, the more in danger I am of falling apart inhispresence, the same way I fell apart with him so many times in my youth.
I know all too well how warm and comforting those arms are. How soothing hisshhhh, it’s okayis. I also know how tempting it is to close my eyes and pretend Elijah Brecker ismineand no one else’s, and how fucked up that is. Especially given the fact that he’s never been mine to begin with.
I shift my stance, moving backward as I clutch my suitcase, avoiding Elijah’s gaze. I have to resist temptation. I don’t need Sam or Benny or Matthew or Elijah to see me crumble like sand. Not now, not ever.
I need to focus on Sam and his wedding. I need to think of somethingotherthan Keaton and the fact that my life is a mess.
So of course, I say what I shouldn’t say. I bite at him out of exhaustion and stress, out of disdain for this whole fucked-up day.
“Well, fuck change,” I say. “Can I stay with you or not?” My voice comes out more bitter than I intended.
My brother sighs.
“Soph, is everything okay?” Elijah asks, and I realize he’s practically inches away from me. My body flushes with heat, andI let out a frustrated grunt, moving away from him. I don’t miss the look of guilt, of sadness on his face, but I don’t have time to soothe Elijah right now. I can barely handle myself and my own feelings.
Benny and Matthew are watching me as well, with concerned expressions.
Great. Now I’m being judged.
Good job, Soph.
“I’m fine,” I snarl at Elijah. He has the audacity to look hurt, like somehow I’m the bad guy, and that stings more than it should. He should know me better. He used to be my best friend, but…I guess that’s my fault too.
I left, and he slipped through the cracks.
Some friend.
I fight not to look at him, and my victory is quite a feat. He doesn’t have any clue. He never has. I fought long and hard to keep my feelings for my best friend hidden, because I knew crossing that line would end badly for both of us. I didn’t want to lose my best friend. Elijah meant more to me than anyone, and the very thought of losing him felt like a punch to the gut.
But I lost him anyway.
We haven’t truly spoken since I left for college ten years ago. I thought Elijah would be the one to stick with me, because growing up, he was always there. We were inseparable. But then I left, and he just…disappeared. He got a fantastic scholarship and went off and did his own thing, which I tried not to be mad about but…seeing him plastered all over my social media with that charming smile, with girls kissing and hanging off of him…
I was mad.
Fuck, I waslivid.But I knew I had no right to feel that way, because Elijah was just…my best friend. At the time, anyway. Even if I wanted him to be more than that.
But that’s all he was ever going to see me as, clearly, given that I was head over heels in love with the guy and he had no freaking idea.
I know, I know. I’m as cliché as they come. I fell for my best guy friend, like my life was some sort of romantic comedy.
But it wasn’t funny. I don’t know when things changed, or when my feelings became more, but I do know that one day I started to feel things I knew I shouldn’t for my best friend. Things that made being around him, alone, really fucking difficult.
I wanted to tell him the truth, I did, but—I also didn’t want to lose my best friend if he didn’t feel the same way. So I kept my feelings—and my fantasies—to myself and focused on being the best friend I could be, and then we graduated and went to college, and…
I told myself that the distance and lack of communication was better. I needed to let go of the hope that one day he’d notice me. That one day he’d show up at my dorm and tell me he was sorry, he missed me, and maybe evenlovedme. Because that was never going to happen. I needed to be realistic, and his lack of communication was enough of a nail in the coffin.
I knew where I stood with mybest friend.
Not that I consider him a friend anymore. Not when I haven’t talked to him in years and only know some of what he’s beenup to because sometimes I’d stalk him on social media after a couple glasses of wine.
“Don’t snap at Eli,” my brother says. “Something’s obviously up. Spill.”
I shake my head, grabbing my suitcase. Maybe coming here was a bad idea. Maybe I should have gotten a hotel instead. “You know what, I don’t need to do this right now,” I say as I head for the door.
“Sophie…” My brother sighs.
