P.S. Don't Tell My Brother

KAI

I hate Knox Vale.

There. I said it. And before anyone asks, yes, I have reasons. Very good reasons, actually. Knox Vale is arrogant, annoying, smug, loud, unnecessarily attractive—

Okay. Scratch that last one. That wasn't important.

The point is, I hate him. I've hated him for years. At least, that's the story I've been telling everyone, including myself.

I glanced at the clock on my laptop and groaned. 11:47 p.m. I had been staring at the same line of telemetry data for nearly twenty minutes, which was impressive, considering I was supposed to be analyzing braking patterns, not contemplating homicide. I rubbed my eyes and leaned closer to the screen. Lap fourteen, Turn Seven. Brake pressure dropped by 3.8 percent. Again.

There. I highlighted the section.

"You're doing it again."

The voice came from behind me, and I froze. I knew that voice. Unfortunately.

I turned slowly. Ethan stood in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed, wearing the same black T-shirt he'd worn earlier.

"Doing what?"

"Talking to yourself."

"I wasn't."

"You literally just said, 'You're doing it again.'"

"I was talking to the driver."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "The driver isn't here."

"I know."

He stared at me. I stared back.

"Go to bed, Kai."

"I'm working."

"You've been working since dinner."

"Some people have careers."

He laughed. "Some people have careers that involve sleeping occasionally."

I turned back to my laptop. "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

"Very dramatic."

"Thank you."

He walked away, and I waited until his footsteps faded before I looked at the screen again.

The driver whose telemetry I had been analyzing wasn't just any driver. It was Knox Vale. Of course it was Knox Vale. Even when the man wasn't physically around, he still found a way to ruin my evening.

I stared at his name on the file. KNOX VALE — TEST SESSION 04. I clicked the folder closed, then opened it again. Pathetic. I knew exactly how pathetic I was. The worst part was that I could recognize Knox's driving almost as easily as I recognized his voice: the slight hesitation before heavy braking, the way he attacked corners, the little changes he made when he was impatient. The way he hated being told he'd made a mistake, especially by me. Especially because I wasn't supposed to know as much as I did.

I shut the laptop. Enough.

I stood, stretched, and wandered into the kitchen. The house was quiet. Too quiet. Ethan had always liked quiet, but I didn't, maybe because quiet gave my brain too much room to think, and my brain had one particular habit I desperately needed to break.

Thinking about Knox.

I opened the refrigerator and stared inside as though food might magically appear if I looked disappointed enough. Nothing. I sighed and closed it. I wasn't even hungry anymore.

Back in the living room, my laptop was still sitting on the table. I looked at it, then at the clock. 11:52 p.m. I could go to bed. I 'should' go to bed.

Instead, I sat down again. Just five minutes.

Five minutes became ten. Ten became fifteen. By the time I finally closed the file, it was past midnight, and I leaned back against the sofa and rubbed my face. Why did I care so much? Knox wasn't my responsibility. He wasn't even on my team, not officially. I just knew racing. I knew data. And I knew when something didn't look right.

That was all. At least, that's what I told myself.

My phone buzzed on the table. A message from Ethan.

ETHAN: YOU STILL AWAKE?

I glanced toward the stairs.

ME: NO.

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

ETHAN: SMARTASS.

I smiled.

ME: GO TO SLEEP.

Three dots. Then:

ETHAN: NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING TOMORROW.

My smile disappeared.

ME: WHAT?

Nothing. I waited five minutes. Still nothing.

ME: ETHAN?

No response. That was never a good sign. Whenever Ethan said he needed to tell me something, it was usually followed by something annoying. Or expensive. Or both. I shoved the phone into my pocket. Whatever it was could wait until morning.

Upstairs, my bedroom was dark. I switched on the small lamp beside my desk and dropped into my chair, and my eyes landed on the black notebook sitting next to it.

I stared at it for a moment, then picked it up. It wasn't anything special. Black cover, cheap pages, no name, no label, nothing that would make anyone curious. That was exactly how I wanted it.

I opened it. The pages were filled with things I would rather die than let anyone read. Especially Ethan. Especially Knox. I flipped past the older entries until I reached the most recent page, where my own handwriting stared back at me.

*I hate him.*

I snorted. Liar.

I grabbed my pen and hesitated. Then I wrote underneath.

*I hate that I notice everything about him.*

I stopped, then added another line.

*I hate that I know when he's going to smile.*

And another.

*I hate that I know the sound of his laugh.*

My pen hovered over the page. I swallowed. Then, finally:

*P.S. I don't hate Knox. That's the problem.*

I stared at it until my stomach twisted.

"Idiot."

I shut the notebook. This was ridiculous. I was twenty-one years old. I had a career, plans, a life. I had no business sitting in my bedroom writing secret confessions about my brother's best friend like some lovesick teenager.

But the truth was simple. I'd wanted Knox for years, and nobody could ever know. Because Knox wasn't just Knox. He was Ethan's best friend, which made him the one person in the world I was absolutely not allowed to want.

I shoved the notebook into the desk drawer and locked it. Then I checked the time. 12:21 a.m. Definitely time to sleep.

I climbed into bed and pulled the blanket over myself. For several minutes, I stared at the ceiling. I thought about work. I thought about the telemetry. I thought about tomorrow. And, unfortunately, I thought about Knox. Again.

I groaned and rolled onto my side. "Get out of my head."

As if that would work.

Eventually, sleep began pulling me under. Then my phone buzzed.

I almost ignored it. Almost. Part of me hoped it was Ethan, finally explaining himself. I reached for it anyway.

It wasn't Ethan. It was a notification from the racing team's official account.

KNOX VALE CONFIRMED FOR NEXT SEASON.

I stared at the announcement, then at the ceiling. "Of course."

Apparently, hating Knox Vale wasn't difficult enough. Now I had to survive another season of seeing his face, hearing everyone talk about him, and pretending I didn't notice him. Wonderful.

I dropped the phone onto the mattress and pulled the blanket over my head. I had no idea that by morning, my biggest problem wouldn't be Knox's racing career.

It would be Knox himself.

I woke to the smell of coffee.

I groaned and reached for my phone. 8:06 a.m. I had slept far too little. My hair was a mess, my eyes felt like sandpaper, and I had exactly zero interest in speaking to anyone. Especially Ethan.

I dragged myself out of bed, brushed my teeth, pulled on a T-shirt and sweatpants, and headed downstairs.

Ethan was already in the kitchen, drinking coffee and looking annoyingly awake.

"Morning," I muttered, opening the cupboard.

"Morning."

I reached for a mug. "You said you needed to tell me something."

"I do."

"What is it?"

"Coffee first."

I stared at him. "Ethan."

"Coffee."

"You've been up for hours."

"And?"

"And you're enjoying this."

He smiled. "A little."

I poured myself a cup and turned around. "Okay. Tell me."

Ethan didn't answer. His eyes slid toward the front door, and my stomach tightened.

"Why are you looking at the door?"

Before he could answer, the doorbell rang.

I frowned. "Who's that?"

Ethan set his mug down. "I'll get it."

He walked out of the kitchen, and I followed. "Ethan—"

He opened the door and paused. From where I stood, I couldn't see who was outside. Then Ethan stepped aside, and my heart stopped.

Because standing on the other side of the door was the one person I had spent years trying not to think about.

Knox Vale.

He looked up, and our eyes met. For one horrible second, neither of us said anything. Then Knox's mouth curved into that familiar, irritating smile.

"Morning, Kai."

My brain short-circuited. I looked at Ethan, then back at Knox. "What is he doing here?"

Ethan sighed. "Knox needs somewhere to stay."

I blinked. "Okay."

He nodded toward the suitcase beside Knox. "His accommodation fell through."

My eyes dropped to the suitcase, then slowly lifted back to Ethan. "Okay..."

Ethan gave me a look, the kind that told me I wasn't going to like what came next.

"I offered him the spare room."

I stared at him. Knox looked almost amused.

"No."

"Kai—"

"No." I pointed at the suitcase. "No."

Knox laughed softly, and I turned on him. "This isn't funny."

"I didn't say it was."

"You look like you're enjoying this."

"Maybe a little."

"Ethan."

My brother sighed. Then he said it. Six words. Six completely devastating words.

"Knox is moving in with us."