Gunnar shakes his head, sitting beside me on the couch but doesn’t speak. His entire body is vibrating, and it’s evident he’s freaking the fuck out.

  “Take a deep breath,” I coach and drop to the floor, kneeling in front of him and grabbing his hands, but he doesn’t listen. He just continues to take rapid, short breaths. If he doesn’t stop, I’m afraid he’s going to pass out.

  Tatiana used to have panic attacks. That’s how I’m aware of the signs. The way Gunnar is acting reminds me exactly of how she would get.

  “What are five things you can see?” I ask, trying a grounding exercise I remember working for my sister.

  “W-what?” he stammers, blinking rapidly.

  “Five things you can see,” I repeat.

  He keeps blinking, not answering the question. Shit, is this going to work?

  “Y-y-you,” he starts, and I smile a little. “The-the TV.” His eyes shift to the side to look around. “The pictures on the wall, a hanging plant, and my Lego Batman.”

  “Good, now 4 things you can feel,” I instruct.

  “Your hands… my sweats… the blanket… and the couch,” he says between shaky breaths starting to slow.

  “Three things you hear,” I tell him next.

  He closes his eyes, focusing. “Your voice, the music from the TV…” He pauses, taking a deep breath and slowly blowing it out. “The ticking of the clock.”

  “Good,” I praise him. “Two things you can smell.”

  “The mint of your gum and the fabric softener clinging to the blanket.”

  His breathing is a lot more even, and he isn’t shaking as much, but there is one last step to go. “One thing you can taste.”

  “My hummus,” he replies softly.

  “How do you feel?” I check.

  He slowly opens his eyes, still seeming a bit disorientated but less panicky. “That was intense,” he murmurs.

  “I’m sorry if you didn’t want to kiss me,” I tell him, moving to sit back on the couch.

  I fucking hate that I caused his panic attack.

  Gunnar shakes his head slowly. “It’s not that. I wanted to kiss you, but I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

  My brows pinch together. What does he mean?

  “Why?” I ask, trying to understand him.

  “Because you’re supposed to be off-limits,” he says, pulling his hands out of mine.

  “Says who?” I question, still not following his train of thought.

  “Malcolm,” he murmurs. “He’d kill me if I ever did anything with you.”

  “Fuck him,” I hiss out. “Why does he get to choose what we do? It’s not like we’re children. We’re two consenting adults. It shouldn’t matter to him.”

  “But it will,” he insists and stands. “Can we please just forget this happened and move on as friends?”

  Forgetting the best kiss of my life is going to be hard, but I also don’t want to pressure Gunnar into anything.

  “Okay,” I murmur, my voice unsteady.

  “Thanks. I’m going to go to bed now.” With those parting words, he turns and disappears down the hall.

  Throwing my head back, I let out a long sigh.

  Gunnar is bisexual. I’m exactly the type of guy he wants, and he’s into me. Yet he’s choosing not to pursue anything because of my overprotective older brother.

  This is bullshit! But I have no idea what I’m supposed to do about it.

  If Gunnar is bound and determined to stay away from me because he’s afraid he’ll lose my brother, I don’t stand a chance. There is a lifetime-long friendship on the line. There is no way he’ll risk that for sex. Even though, based on that kiss, I’m sure it would be earth-shattering, amazing sex.

  I’m staring at the ceiling, sulking, when an idea pops into my head.

  Gunnar is concerned that Malcolm will lose it, but what if he never finds out? We could fool around, and my brother would have no clue. We’re already living together. It’s not like we have to sneak into each other’s houses.

  I mean, obviously, I want more, but I’d take Gunnar any way I can have him. But now that I’ve kissed him, I know I’m going to want to do it again.

  I can do a friends-with-benefit thing if Gunnar’s on board.

  It’s an awesome plan, if I do say so myself. Now, I just have to convince him that this could work.

  I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?

  Chapter Twelve

  Gunnar

  My brain is ridiculously fuzzy as I trudge to the kitchen in search of the miracle bean juice. To say I slept like shit last night would be an understatement. I’m glad I don’t have to work today because I’m not sure I’d be able to function.

  When I ran away from Knox after my panic attack, I tried like hell to sleep, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t get my brain to shut off. I kept thinking about the kiss that had my toes curling and my balls begging for release. The kiss that was a mistake. It never should have happened. But when Knox leaned in, it was like I was in a trance, and I closed the gap.

  I never knew a kiss could be that good.

  I sigh and open a cupboard to grab the pre-ground coffee beans, needing caffeine and to forget about the stupid kiss. After the coffee is started, I grab a protein bar and lean against the counter, wishing I could speed up time.

  “Morning,” Knox greets me as I take a bite of my lazy breakfast, and I jump.

  “Shit, you’re sneaky,” I grumble, rubbing my chest. My heart beats fast, and my skin tingles with adrenaline and shock.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a sheepish smile, running a hand through his raven hair.

  “It’s fine. I might just die a few years sooner now,” I joke.

  Knox chuckles, then opens a cupboard to grab a box of cereal.

  “You know that’s mostly sugar, right?” I tell him.

  “And that’s what makes it delicious,” he responds with a shit-eating grin as he pours himself a bowl.

  I roll my eyes as my coffee pot dings, alerting me that it’s ready.

  “Finally,” I murmur, reaching for a mug.

  “Did you not sleep okay?” Knox asks, studying me a little too closely for my liking.

  “I slept fine,” I lie. “I’m just not a morning person. At least until I’ve had my coffee.” The last part is true. No one wants to get on my bad side first thing in the morning. I’ve been known to bite a head or two off.

  “At least one of us slept well,” he mumbles, pouring my coffee.

  Shit, I guess he’s just as fucked up by the kiss as I am. Not bothering to ask, I grab a second cup and fill it for Knox.

  “Thanks,” he says, accepting the coffee and moving to doctor it to his liking.

  “Got any plans for today?” I ask, trying to change the mood to a happier place and taking a seat at the counter.

  “It’s Sunday, which means dinner with the family,” he grumbles, not sounding excited about it at all.

  His lips are turned downward as he places his coffee and cereal in front of the empty chair beside me and takes a seat.

  “That’s right. It’s awesome you still keep up that tradition,” I say with a small smile.

  My family stopped doing weekly dinners a long time ago. With my crazy work schedule, it was difficult, but we do get together as often as possible, just more spontaneously. That reminds me, I should call my parents, it’s been a few days since I spoke with them. Now that I think of it, it was before Knox moved in.

  I can’t believe this is our third morning together already.

  “How has your family been?” Knox asks after a few moments of silence.

  “Good. Dad’s still working. I don’t think he’s ever gonna quit. And Mom loves being a grandma and babysitter to Missy while Raquel works.”

  “I bet. I can’t believe your niece is already a year old,” he says.

  I chuckle. “I feel the same way. Time is flying by. Mom and Dad keep hounding me to find a partner. Raquel has sworn off all relationships, claiming the only person she needs is Missy. My parents’ sole focus seems to be on me recently. But like I said yesterday, I haven’t found anyone I click with yet.”

  Knox bites his lip, his face falling as he nods slowly.

  Shit, I really put my foot in my mouth there.

  “I’m sure you’ll find someone eventually,” he mumbles, breaking my heart.

  Taking a sip of my coffee, I try to find the right words, but nothing comes to mind. I mean, what is there to possibly say that I didn’t last night? Doing anything with Knox would only end in disaster. Malcolm is my best friend, and he’d kick my ass if he ever found out I kissed his baby brother. Doing anything more would guarantee death.

  “I was thinking about something,” Knox states, pulling me from my depressing thoughts.

  “What’s that?” I ask with a tilt of my head.

  “I know you’re concerned about how Malcolm will react to us being together, but why does he have to find out?”

  My brows pull together, and my brain throbs, trying to figure out what he’s suggesting. “What do you mean?”

  “I really liked kissing you last night and didn’t want to stop. I don’t think you did either. Why can’t we have a little fun while I’m here? I’m pretty good at keeping secrets,” he says with a sexy smirk.

  I wasn’t expecting him to suggest this. Deep down, I know it’s a horrible idea, but it doesn’t stop it from being a tantalizing one.

  “If you’re really against it, I’ll drop it and never bring it up again,” he continues when I don’t reply. “But I just thought I’d throw it out there. I like you, Gunnar. I have for a long time. I get that you’re scared, and Malcolm can be an overbearing asshole, but like I said, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

  I gnaw on my lower lip, contemplating the offer.

  Knox’s phone buzzes on the counter as I’m still trying to come up with an answer.

  With a quick swipe, he picks it up and stands. “Just think about it, okay?” he says, then saunters down the hall.

  I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing I’m going to be able to think about for the rest of the day.

  With a long sigh, I lean forward, resting my head on the cold countertop.

  On the one hand, I want to say yes because we’d be unbelievably good together, but on the other, I know this would be a dangerous dance. I’m not one to play with fire because someone always gets burned.

  Do I risk a lifelong friendship for the sake of a piece of ass? Although Knox already feels like more than that to me. Not that Malcolm will see it that way.

  And what if it turns out to be more than just messing around?

  I have no idea what I’m going to do.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Knox

  With a firm hand, I close the door to my temporary bedroom and answer my phone.

  “Hello, Malcolm,” I answer, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

  “Are you coming to family dinner?” he asks without bothering to greet me.

  Off to a great start already.

  “Have I ever not shown up for a family dinner when I wasn’t working?” I counter.

  “I’m just making sure you aren’t going to snub us, especially after you’ve been avoiding me,” he accuses with an arrogant tone.

  “I haven’t been avoiding you…” I pause, grabbing the bridge of my nose, trying to choose my words carefully. There’s no need to set him off this early in the morning. “I’m just trying to get my shit together after everything I owned burned to the ground.”

  “Exactly. Your life has been turned upside down, but instead of reaching out to your family for help, you’re keeping us at arm’s length,” he barks out, giving me a headache.

  “I’m an adult, Malcolm… in case you’ve forgotten that fact. I appreciate you wanting to help me, but I can do this. Just because you think I need help doesn’t mean I actually need it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, you interrupted my breakfast, and I’m starving,” I state and hit the hang-up button, not bothering to wait for a response.

  I’m fucking done with my brother right now.

  Malcolm and I have always butted heads. I thought it would improve as we got older, but it hasn’t. I get that he’s a control freak, but it’s not like I’ve ever done anything extremely crazy to warrant the way he acts toward me. I’ve never done drugs, got arrested, or even been involved with the wrong crowd. And much to Malcolm’s disagreement, I don’t do things to purposefully piss him off—much. Just because I’m five years younger doesn’t immediately make me less than him.

  Tatiana and I are extremely close, and while she can also treat me like a child from time to time, she doesn’t overstep like Malcolm does.

  Throwing myself onto my bed, I let out a giant sigh.

  Gunnar’s right. Malcolm is going to lose his shit if he even gets a whiff of something going on between the two of us. And as much as I want Gunnar, I’m not sure the fallout will be worth it.

  I still stand by the thought that what Malcolm doesn’t know won’t hurt him, but I get Gunnar’s apprehension. Maybe it’s best if we just stay friends.

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, I stand and head toward the kitchen.

  “Ugh, now my cereal is soggy,” I grumble, sitting beside Gunnar, who hasn’t seemed to move.

  “Sorry, I should have noticed that and got you a new bowl,” Gunnar says.

  I laugh. “You don’t have to cater to me like that,” I assure him, picking up the bowl and heading to the sink to pour it down the drain.

  “I’m sorry. I’m used to fussing over guests, but I guess you’re not really a guest, are you?”

  I shake my head and make myself a fresh bowl of sugary amazingness. “Nope. Think of me as a roommate. I need to pull my weight around here. You definitely don’t need to be taking care of me.”

  “What if I want to take care of you?” he asks quietly.

  Again, I take my seat next to him and notice he’s blushing. Damn, he’s extra cute sometimes.

  “Why do you want to take care of me?” I question with a raised brow.

  “Because I like you,” he admits. “I’ve been thinking about your offer, but I don’t think I can take you up on it. Sex would complicate my feelings for you even more.”

  I take a bite of my cereal, trying to act like his confession doesn’t have me reeling.

  So he actually likes me like that, and I obviously like him back. Probably more than like, but we won’t go into that right now. Yet we can’t do anything about these feelings because of my stupid brother. What kind of horse shit is that?

  “I’m gonna call my parents,” Gunnar tells me and stands to head to his room, leaving me alone to deal with this news.

  Is there any possible way I could get Malcolm on our side? If Gunnar had his blessing, I’m sure he’d say yes to dating me.

  Fuck, I never thought I’d have even the slightest chance at being with Gunnar. And now the opportunity is so close, I can almost taste it.

  I just have to figure out a way to get Malcolm over this need to protect me.

  Me being with Gunnar would be a good thing, wouldn’t it? He’s an amazing guy, and Malcolm trusts him with his life.

  Why wouldn’t he trust him with my heart?

  Of course, I doubt he’ll see it that way.

  My head is pounding as I enter the house I grew up in.

  I’ve spent all afternoon trying to figure out a way to bring up the idea of me dating Gunnar with Malcolm and came up with absolutely nothing except a splitting headache.

  I shut the door behind me, inhaling deeply to calm myself and savor the pleasant aroma of garlic and other herbs.

  “You’re early,” Dad says with a giant grin when I enter the kitchen.

  He’s standing next to Leo, who’s stirring something on the stove.

  “Thought I’d save myself the hassle of being harassed by Malcolm,” I say.

  Dad gives me a sympathetic nod. “I’m surprised he’s still hard on you like that.”

  “Me too,” I murmur. “I get that he’s the oldest and will always see me as his baby brother, but I’m thirty-five years old. I’m not a child, and I am not a failure. You treat me as the adult that I am. Why can’t he?”

  “I think he’s afraid that if he lets up for a second, something bad will happen to you,” Leo states. “Did you ever notice things got more tense between you two after your mom passed away?”

  I shake my head but take a moment to think about it.

  The memory of us laughing together while Mom baked a pie for Christmas filters into my head, making my heart hurt. It was our last Christmas with Mom, but that’s not what hit me the hardest. It’s the realization that Malcolm and I weren’t at each other’s throats. How did I forget we had become close for a couple of years?

  We used to joke around a lot more like we did the other day in front of my house. It was nothing to give each other shit and find ourselves in a playful wrestling match. But those moments have become few and far between.

  The past four and a half years have been so tension-filled it’s like it wiped out the memory of how good we were.

  “How do we get back to where we were?” I ask, staring at Dad and Leo, hoping they have the answer.

  “Maybe you two should sit down and have a talk,” Dad suggests.

  “We can help Ayla with the kids after dinner, and you two can hash things out,” Leo offers.

  “I’ll try,” I murmur, but I’m not holding my breath.

  Dad and Leo smile at me as the front door opens, and three rambunctious kiddos race into the kitchen.

  “Uncy Knock,” Greta, the youngest of Malcolm’s kids, says, tugging on my pant leg, and her older brothers run to my dad and Leo.

  “Hi, beautiful,” I greet her, picking her up into my arms for a tight squeeze. “How are you?”

  “Tood,” she answers, and I know that means good.

  “That’s good. Have you been behaving for your parents?” I ask.

  A devilish smile spreads across her face, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. “I a tood gull,” she says, but I think her interpretation of good and her parents’ is going to be different.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19