One Kiss: A Brother's Best Friend Romance Page 8

  Aidan grimaced. “This is going to happen, isn’t it? I’m not sure whether to be revolted or simply displeased at the idea of my partner screwing my sister.”

  James pulled a face at that but ignored Aidan’s remark to ask, “Is that jackass still here?”

  “By jackass, I assume the guy who proposed to my sister?”

  At Aidan’s cocked brow, James swore. “The bastard’s just like my father. If she marries him, that’s it…” he warned. “I’ve watched it from inside the circle, Aidan. You know that. I know the game too well to fail to see what’s happening.”

  “You only know what she’s told you, and she’s obviously suffered a lapse in judgment if she screwed around with you.”

  James flipped him the bird. “So says you, partner.”

  Aidan chuckled a little, then stared down at his feet. “He’s still around, but I’m not sure why. She’s still at mom and dad’s, and he’s in a hotel. From what she said, I don’t think she’s altogether happy he’s here.”

  “Do you think they’re back together?”

  He shrugged. “Haven’t seen that much of her to be able to judge. And because she barely talks about that, I don’t know. The little I do know is what mom has told me. But if you asked her yourself, mom would tell you too. I think, for some fucked up reason, she wants the two of you together.”

  James confessed, “She told me she thinks we’d be good for one another.”

  Aidan clucked his tongue and made a disgusted sound. “I can’t believe she gave you her approval.”

  “Since that first day, you haven’t exactly warned me off her.”

  “No, I haven’t, have I?” Aidan rubbed his jaw. “I never liked that Mark dude. He was always too smarmy for my taste.”

  James huffed. “You never said.”

  “Wasn’t down to me. It’s her love life, not mine.” Aidan frowned. “She told you he was controlling?”

  “Yeah. Said it was one of the reasons that she left her job. All of it coming at her at the same time was too much pressure. She said she couldn’t cope.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Hannah,” Aidan remarked, surprised.

  “No. Exactly. We’d spoken earlier that day when the tire burst. Everything she said, when I threw in that new info, it just made me put two and two together. I didn’t like the number I came out with.” James studied his friend. “Is it going to be a problem if we’re together?”

  Aidan huffed. “You’ve got to get near her first, and it seems Hannah’s doing a bang-up job of stonewalling you.”

  “I know. But I’ll wear her down. Eventually,” he conceded ruefully, then, his frown turned somber, more serious. “I have to. I don’t have any say in this.”

  Silence fell between them. “What are you saying, bro?” Aidan asked softly.

  James shook his head, but he didn’t meet Aidan’s eyes. “This is serious, man. I-I can’t let her get away.”

  And with that, he reached for the phone and tried her number.

  Again.

  Chapter 10

  Mark was nice.

  That categorized him well.

  In front of her friends, her family, her other colleagues… everyone thought he was pleasant and amiable. And he was. That was the truth. But closed doors changed all that. Changed him.

  He was as controlling as ever.

  The night—Hannah’d taken to thinking of it in italics—she’d been so overwhelmed by what had happened with James, that Mark’s sudden presence had floored her.

  She hadn’t wanted to talk to him, but at the same time, his presence had brought her back to reality with a bang.

  Whatever she was to James, it wasn’t a permanent thing.

  Why had she messed up something that was permanent to be with something that was temporary?

  That thought had been why she’d entertained Mark for that moment.

  But now she was getting sick of entertaining him.

  They weren’t even dating; she’d not even said she’d taken him back, and old habits were already dying hard. He was always around. Always close to hand.

  She was too independent to appreciate that. If she needed help, she’d ask for it, but Mark had never understood that. She’d only just left him at a coffee shop an hour ago and already he was calling her.

  Her phone rang, and she reached over to turn off the ringer as she’d done the first three times. But when she saw James' number come up on her cell, she glowered even more. He’d rung what seemed like a thousand times, and she’d consistently ignored it.

  What was it with the men in her life at the moment?

  None of them were acting in any way she could predict.

  Mark had flown across the country without her asking it of him, and James, rather than ignoring her existence after they slept together, wasn’t letting go.

  But, it all boiled down to James. It always had and always would, and she had to admit, she hated that.

  Hated the power he had over her.

  When he hadn’t ignored her as she’d feared he would after their one-night together, she guessed she’d taken some of the control back in a way that could only be described as mean.

  Ignoring him rather than allowing him to ignore her.

  Had she played hard to get?

  Maybe. But maybe not.

  If that had been her intention, it had certainly worked.

  James was doing a shitty job of blanking her, that was for certain. But more than that, she figured she’d ignored his calls for so long because it was a means of stabilizing herself.

  He’d already rocked her universe. Both with that Labor Day kiss and the precious moments they’d shared in bed together.

  She was tired of that. Tired of the world revolving around her reaction to him. She needed time for herself. Time to focus and to center herself.

  With James in her life, she couldn’t do that.

  When she picked up her phone and pressed the ‘connect call’ button, Hannah could say she only accepted because of the last text she’d received from Mark after she ignored his third call of the morning.

  I’m taking you out tonight. Wear the black dress. I love your ass in it.

  Three sentences… each of them capable of making her nose-twitchingly mad.

  But more than that, these past weeks without James influencing her days, had been spent productively. She knew what she was doing, what her end goals were… if there was ever a time she believed she’d be capable of dealing with him, it was now.

  The minute the call connected, she knew she’d made a huge mistake but just hanging up would look worse than the truth—James' voice could and would always make her melt.

  Hell, not just his voice.

  She’d never be able to deal with him, she realized. Not subjectively. Crap, when would she stop lying to herself where he was concerned?

  Her stomach roiled with unease. It had been doing that of late, and she knew the stress and tension in her life was making her sick. She had to change that because she was making things too hard on herself, and now, she had more to worry about than just herself.

  “Finally,” James said, breaking into thoughts that would exacerbate her nervousness. “I thought you were going to ignore my calls forever.”

  “Don’t whine, James,” she retorted wryly, hating how it made her happy to hear his voice.

  What was that even about? How could she be so proud of her independence and yet react to him like this?

  Gruffly, she returned to the conversation with, “Whining doesn’t become you.”

  Silence crept down the line, and it amused her because she knew she’d surprised him. He chuckled though, surprising her. “You’re such a pain in the ass, Hannah.”

  She couldn’t help herself. She grinned. Rocking back in the chair at the desk where she’d studied for her SATs and was now working hard to create her own business, Hannah murmured, “Apparently, you like having a pain in the ass.”

  “Babe, I spanked you. Don’t t
hink I’m letting you anywhere near my behind.”

  “Woah, man, too much fucking information,” Aidan chimed in.

  At the sound of her brother’s scolding, Hannah had to laugh. She didn’t have it in her to be embarrassed. Aidan knew way too much about her anyway—he’d been the one to console her after her disastrous first time after prom. When a brother knew that particular horrendous truth, he could cope with anything.

  “Don’t make it easy on this reprobate, sis,” he called out, but his voice was fading, and she realized he was probably crossing from James' half of the room to his own space.

  “You’ve been talking about me with Aidan,” she said with surprise. Hannah hadn’t expected that. Not one bit.

  Again, what was with the unpredictability around here?

  “Aidan, as usual, knows far too much without me saying anything,” he confessed. “But I haven’t kept us a secret. I just… I don’t have much to say.”

  “Then why are you calling? You need to say something on the phone otherwise there isn’t much of a conversation.”

  “I have plenty to say to you,” James replied.

  “Yeah? What like?” Despite herself, she was curious.

  She hadn’t expected to hold his interest long enough for him to want to sleep with her. She was pretty, sure. But in a billionaire’s life, there were beauties he could, and had tossed aside with barely a blink.

  What interest could she hold for him? Aside from the forbidden, that is.

  She’d figured that once he’d tasted the forbidden fruit, he’d move on.

  But he hadn’t. He’d carried on calling, and she, unable to deal with him, had ignored him.

  Fair?

  No.

  Trouble was, she couldn’t find it in herself to feel guilty because what with her parents, on top of finishing up some case files for her previous employees while coming to the conclusion she enjoyed her work but wanted more autonomy, all while handling Mark… yeah, throwing a guy like James Arias into the mix was like asking for more trouble.

  She’d pushed him aside because he could hurt her.

  His attempts to call her didn’t mean anything. Not really. Down the line, she could fall for him deeper than she already had, and he could just leave.

  Hannah knew the balance of power was firmly in his favor, and she didn’t like that. It was like asking for heartache.

  It was only then that she realized he’d fallen quiet on the other end of the line. He was still there. She could hear the soft soughing breaths in her ear, and guiltily thought back to those moments when his face had been half-pressed against her throat and half into her pillow. His weight had been solid. It had kept her firmly in place on the bed. His cock had filled her perfectly, and she could still feel him inside… at night, when need overcame her.

  A need only he could scratch, she thought back to those moments when she’d been his, and though she’d climaxed to the memories of their passing moments together, it was a reminder.

  Transient.

  It was her go-to word at the moment.

  “James?” she asked softly, peppering him into action.

  “I-I need to talk to you, Hannah. Face to face. When can I see you? I can’t do this over the phone.”

  She frowned. “What is there to say, James? We had a great night together but…” She hesitated. “I can’t do it again. If I do, I’ll fall for you and you’ll hurt me. I’m not made to be some rich man’s girlfriend. You can’t fob me off with pretty baubles. I want something you can’t give.”

  A long hiss sounded down the line. “I’m getting pretty pissed off with you making so many assumptions about me, Hannah. How the fuck do you know what I want? How can you when I’ve only just figured it out myself, dammit.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “And what exactly do you want?” Her heart stuttered in her chest as she waited for him to speak, and when he did, she never imagined in her wildest dreams that he’d say...

  “You.”

  Chapter 11

  Hannah wore the black dress.

  And, as per Mark’s second text, had come to his hotel.

  It was only fair, she figured. Mark seemed to believe his continued presence here was keeping them in a relationship and it was about time she corrected that. There was no way in hell she was getting back with him. It didn’t matter if this thing with James went down in flames, she wanted this part of her life with Mark to be over.

  Stat.

  And that couldn’t happen if the idiot didn’t realize there was no relationship to save anymore.

  The end wasn’t tied to James' call. They both needed closure, and that was why she was here. Even though it irked her to comply with his text, she’d come to his hotel because Mark genuinely thought he was ‘taking her out’ for the evening, and she was about to bring a brutal end to that belief. Letting this carry on was only going to make things more painful in the long run.

  She and Mark were over.

  Finito.

  They needed to move on, and that would only happen if they were honest with one another. That was what tonight was about. She was giving him time to realize they were totally wrong together.

  Hannah knew she shouldn’t have had to resort to this. She’d already broken up with him once.

  How many times would it take for him to take her seriously?

  Fuck, she was tired of the men in her life not listening to her.

  After James' declaration this afternoon, she’d agreed to meet with him tomorrow, with the intention of sharing more hard truths with him. Of making him listen to her. Hannah wasn’t sure what James was going to say, and she was even less sure about his expectations or if she’d even like what he wanted to talk about, but she had to try.

  Why?

  Because she was a fool.

  The only thing worse than a fool was a fool in love, and over these past weeks while her ex lorded it over her that he’d traveled thousands of miles just to be with her—to prove to her how much she meant to him—she’d come to realize that Mark could never be the man for her.

  Because she wanted James?

  As she stood in the hotel lobby looking for the Napoli Bar where Mark had said they’d meet, she attempted to push the thought aside. She realized she was at war and at peace. Well, of an internal nature.

  Ever since Labor Day, her life had been in flux.

  That was the only way she could describe it.

  Turmoil.

  All the time.

  How could it not be so? The man she’d known since Aidan’s first year at college was one of those bastards who could charge a room with energy simply by showing up at the door. He was magnetic. A charmer.

  How could she not be at war with herself for being so stupid as to let him get close to her?

  And yet, now she’d admitted to herself that she wanted him, and only him, she was at a kind of peace. That internal rumble had begun to die down.

  It didn’t matter what happened between them. It didn’t matter if tomorrow was a bust.

  Tonight, she knew what she had to do, and that direction, that sense of purpose tasted damn good after having nothing but doubts and insecurities which had been like ashes in her mouth.

  The lobby was fancy. But then, that was Mark. He only ever did fancy. The hotels, the restaurants, his apartment… all of it sleek and snazzy. She’d been afraid to put a cup down on the table without a coaster in his living room—it was that kind of place.

  Her heels clicked against the floor as she crossed the amber marble and followed the sign for the Napoli bar. Nerves gurgled in her gut. Again. Because this wasn’t going to be pleasant.

  Although, nothing about these subsequent days was going to be pleasant.

  James, whether he wanted to or not, was going to be a part of her life forever. For a woman who was as regular as clockwork, she knew what a single missed period meant.

  Someone, somewhere, was rooting for her and James to get together because she was on the Pill. There had never be
en a problem with Mark, so either James had super sperm, or the fates were working to push he and Hannah together.

  Her lips twitched at the thought, and she was relieved she could find amusement in the moment. She’d probably have caved two weeks into her self-appointed silence had it not been for her missed period. But when she’d taken the early pregnancy test and seen for herself that her internal watch clock hadn’t lied, she’d been left floundering. Yet again.

  Truth was, if Mark got antsy tonight, then she’d throw this card at him. She didn’t want to use her baby as a weapon, but she would. Mark was a nice guy. In public.

  Hannah wasn’t afraid of him. She wouldn’t phrase it like that, but neither would she say she was at ease. It wasn’t just the baby hormones that were messing with her gut, and that was the truth of it.

  The bar was black and red. Monotone. Mark was at the black granite bar on a high red stool. She saw him, ignored the rest of the establishment, and walked over his way. He was talking to a barman, but he must have heard her heels over the low hum of the crowd and the piano playing in the background because he turned around, his eyes lighting up when he saw her.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d wear the dress,” he admitted with a sheepish smile as he climbed off the stool, clasped her arms in his hands, then bent down to kiss her.

  She tilted her head to the side, so he could only kiss her cheek, and recognized that she’d made a mistake by wearing the dress. She’d thought to appease him, take him off guard by doing as he’d requested. Instead, he was taking it in a positive light. Reading into this way too much for her own good.

  She clambered onto the stool and said, “I’ll have a cranberry juice, please.”

  “Splash some vodka in,” Mark directed to the barman as he made the order.

  “No! I can’t have any alcohol.”

  Mark blinked at her, but nodded at the barman. “Just juice then.” To Hannah, he asked, “Why no alcohol?”

  “It’s not agreeing with me at the moment.”

  Her platitude seemed to agree with him because he nodded, then grinned brightly at her. “It’s good to see you, Hannah.”