My Best Friend's Brother: A Standalone Friends to Lovers Romance (Soulmates Series Book 2) (16 page)

Chapter 29: Andi

"What
the hell happened?" Shane asked as soon as I'd locked the door behind us.

"You
saw what happened," I said. "Mike went
apeshit
again."

He
furrowed his brow. "Did he ambush you on the stairs?"

"Yeah,"
I said. "Right before you did, stalker."

He
put his hands up. "Hey. I was just out for a walk and minding my own
business when I realized you probably should've texted me already."

"Bullshit,"
I said, heading to the kitchen. "You followed me home."

"More
like supervised."

I
pulled two bottles of beer from the fridge and popped the caps off, letting
them roll along the counter. "Well, thanks," I said, handing him one.
"I'd really liked to be pissed, but under the circumstances, I suppose you
saved my ass."

He
rubbed his jaw.

I
grabbed some frozen vegetables from the freezer. “Here,” I said. "To keep
the swelling down."

"It's
nothing."

I
raised my eyebrows. "Don't piss me off."

He
shoved the bag of veg against his jaw.

"I'm
sorry, by the way."

He
furrowed his brow. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

"If
I hadn't-"

"Andi.
None of this is your fault."

I
walked over to the couch, sat down, and pulled my boots off.  

Shane
followed and took a seat beside me. "What exactly set him off?"

I
shrugged. "Who knows? The first thing he commented on was how late it was,
and then when he grabbed my phone and saw that I was texting you, he lost
it."

He
smiled. "So you were going to text me?"

"Of
course. I promised, didn't I?"

"It
was probably easy to remember after thinking about me all the way home."

One
corner of my mouth curled up. "You might've crossed my mind once or
twice."

He
took a swig of beer and sank back against the pillows.

The
clock in the kitchen ticked loudly, reminding me of how late it was. I knew I
should ask him to stay, especially after he came to my rescue. "Did you
mean what you said back there?"

He
raised his eyebrows.

"When
you said you'd do anything to protect me?"

"Of
course," he said. "I don't say stuff I don't mean."

I
folded my legs underneath me and angled my body towards him. "Would you
bury a body for me?"

"Can
I finish my beer first?"

I
rolled my eyes. "It's a hypothetical question."

"Which
I believe I answered."

"Would
you jump in front of a train for me?"

"No
question."

I
squinted at him. "Lie under oath?"

"No."

I
cocked my head.

"I'm
joking. I was trying to convey how easy it would be for me to do that."

"So
you would lie under oath?"

He
nodded. "Like I said. I would do anything to protect you."

"Hmmm."
I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling. "Would you get your body reinforced
with metal like Wolverine?"

His
face dropped. "I did that last summer. Jeez. You could at least pretend
you noticed."

I
laughed. "Oh right, sorry. I forgot."

He
smiled at me, causing his cheek to crush against the veg.

I
took a sip of beer and felt a warm wave of affection wash over me.

A
second later, we both turned our heads towards the sound of a key in the door
and watched Steph step inside quietly.

Her
whole body relaxed when she saw us. "Oh. You're up. Back." She closed
the door. "How was the barn dance?"

Shane
looked at me.

"It
was great. Really fun," I said. "What's with the backpack?"

She
let it slide down one arm to the floor. "I was at the library."

I
furrowed my brow. "Since when?"

“Since
after dinner," she said, leaning against the wall.

"It's
almost three."

"Which
explains why I woke up face down in my book twenty minutes ago."

I
craned my neck forward. "It's Friday night."

"More
like Saturday morning," she said. "Which means in twenty four hours I
have to dissect a dead pig, and I really don't want to desecrate it any more
than I have to."

Shane
and I nodded.

"Anyway,
enough about me and my semi-conscious state of anxiety. I'll leave you guys to
it."

"Not
at all," Shane said, dropping his hand full of veg. "I was
just-"

"What
happened to you?" Steph asked, as if she hadn't noticed the vegetables
until they moved.

"Andi
can tell you all about it," he said, making his way towards the kitchen.
"But you should see the other guy."

"Mike,"
I mouthed after Shane disappeared around the corner.

"You're
kidding me," Steph said.

I
shook my head and set my beer on the nearest coaster. "I wish I
were." I stood up as Shane was coming out of the kitchen. "Are you
sure you don't want to stay?" I blurted.

"I'll
just be-
uhh
-" Steph's footsteps fell down the
hallway.

I
kept my eyes on Shane.

He
stepped up to me. "No, thanks. I shouldn't be here anyway."

I
rolled up on my toes. "Have I mentioned how glad I am that you are? That
you were?"

He
tilted my chin up and looked back and forth between my eyes. "Goodnight,
Andi."

My
lips parted just before his pressed against mine, and my insides twisted as he
pulled my lower back against him.

When
I needed to catch my breath, I held his neck and pressed my forehead against
his. "That just gets better and better,” I whispered, his warm breath
still on my lips.

"Promise
me something," he said.

I
looked at him and slid my hand down his chest. "What?"

"Promise
me you'll never give me a kiss on the cheek again."

"You
didn't like that?"

"It's
not that," he said. "It's just that I can think of a few places I
like better."

"Don't
be a
hornball
."

"Don't
get me so hard right before you send me home alone."

"I'm
not. I said you could-"

He
kissed me again- this time with an urgency that perfectly explained why he
couldn't stay.

I
leaned my whole body against him, as if I could make an imprint of my shape
against his chest.

"Trust
me," he said. "If I thought I could behave myself, I'd take you up on
your offer. But if I don't leave right now, no one in this apartment is going
to get any sleep tonight."

I
sank down on my heels. "So this isn't over?"

"Far
from it, shorty," he said, pulling one of my pigtails.

I raised
my eyebrows. "Text me when you get home?"

"Anything
in particular you want? Maybe a photo of-"

"Words
will be sufficient, thanks."

"Will
do."

I
walked him to the door and watched him make his way to the stairwell.
"Shane."

He
looked back over his shoulder.

"You
know I want to follow you home, right?"

He
smiled. "Get some sleep."

I
closed the door and sighed as I dropped my forehead against it.

"You
need to wash your mind out with soap, young lady."

I rolled
my head towards Steph, who was standing in the hallway in her pink kitty
pajamas.

"More
like bleach," I said. "I am so fucked."

Flashback: Andi

During
the three weeks of budget gift giving, it was hard to tell who had me for
Secret Santa.

At
the end of the first week, I got movie ticket vouchers. That made me think Izzy
had me because there were four movies out at the time that we wanted to see.

At
the end of the second week, I got a Santa snow scraper. That made me think it
was probably Steven because he was practical that way. Plus, he'd caught me
scraping ice off my windshield with my history book a few days earlier.

The
third week, though, I got a book of coupons for Dairy Queen chocolate dipped
cones. That was when it first occurred to me that Shane might be my Secret
Santa since he knew my ice cream preferences better than anyone.

However,
he could’ve just been helping someone try to throw me off the scent.

But
on the last day of gift giving, I figured out that he had me by process of
elimination.

"
Oooh
," Izzy squealed. "Only one present left! I
wonder who it could be
from?
"

"Yeah,
I wonder," I said, shooting Shane a look as I pulled my flashing reindeer sweater
down over my red velvet leggings and walked over to the tree.

I
bent down and picked up the two attached boxes.

Shane
patted the ottoman he was sitting on.

I
sat down beside him and undid the ribbon. "Please tell your mom she did a really
nice job with the wrapping paper."

He
knocked his shoulder into mine. "Will do, smart ass."

I
opened the smaller box first, and I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as they
looked over their warm mugs of Mrs. Jennings’ weak ass mulled wine.

When
I pulled the lid off, my face fell.

"If
you don't like them," he said. "I kept the gift
receip
-"

"I
love them," I said, pulling one of the sparkling snowflake earrings from
the box. "But you weren't supposed to spend more than-"

"That
rule only exists so you don't have to break the bank if you get someone boring
like Steven."

"What
the hell, man?!" Steven said.

"Besides,
my only other idea was a Bath and Body Works gift set, and you smell good
enough as it is."

I
felt my cheeks blush and hoped people would think it was the wine. "Well,
thank you. You shouldn't have, but I really like them." It was only then
that I noticed the little sticker that said they were 14 carat white gold. My
eyes grew wide and bounced back to him.

"You're
welcome," he said, as if he could read my mind.

"Open
the other one already!" Izzy said.

I
sighed and looked at him with disapproval, trying to hide the sheer joy I felt
that he would pick out something so pretty and delicate for me, that he would
break the rules for me.

He
shrugged. “Okay, so I had more than one idea."

I
tore through the paper, revealing a framed photo that was taken the previous
summer.

I
remembered the day vividly.

Izzy
had spent the afternoon reading a stack of People magazines on a blanket in the
grass at the top of the driveway while Shane tried to teach me how to do a
proper layup. Finally, after two hours of laughing until my sides hurt and
chasing the ball around, I managed one.

Shane
was even more pumped about it than I was, and he scooped me up on his back and
ran around the driveway saying all this crazy made up stuff about the crowd
going wild and my game winning shot.

And
at one point, we must've been charging right at Izzy cause the photo completely
captured the moment. We looked sweaty and young and our smiles were splitting
our faces.

"You
okay?" Shane asked.

"Yeah,"
I said, blinking away the tears that might give away how much it meant to me.
"Thanks. I love it."

"Don't
get mushy now before you see what's taped on the back," he said, lifting
his chin at the photo.

"There's
more?" I flipped the picture over, revealing an envelope with my name on
it. I glanced at him. "What is it?"

He
nodded, urging me to continue.

I
pulled out a thick piece of paper. "Season tickets to Six Flags?"

"What
do you say?" he asked.

The
blood drained from my face. "I say I'm terrified of roller coasters and
you know that."

"That's
why I got season tickets. So we can take all the time we need getting you used
to the idea."

"But-"

"It'll
be just like the layup," he said. "You'll surprise yourself."

I
pursed my lips, not wanting to ruin the moment for everyone by giving away how
horrified I was.

"There's
a first time for everything," he said, putting a hand on my knee.
"You'll thank me. I promise."

And
he was right.

I
had five months to wrap my head around the idea, to research the odds of me
puking on myself or falling to an early death.

And
it took that same five months to convince my parents that roller coasters were
actually less dangerous than trampolines and go carts (both of which they did
everything to keep out of my sight and mind).

Then,
when summer rolled around, Shane kept his word.

The
first time we went, we didn't even go on any rides.

We
just ate funnel cakes and watched the other smiling customers wander from one
coaster to another, including a lot of kids which I found as motivating as I
did frustrating.

But
by the end of the summer, I'd gone on every ride tons of times, and my favorite
turned out to be the Giant Drop- the last one I ever would’ve dreamed I'd have
the guts to try.  

And
every time I got nervous, he'd hold my hand, look me in the eye, and tell me it
was okay to scream.

And
I loved him for helping me face my fears, for letting me squeeze his hand so
hard, and for never being the first to let go.