Brother Best Friend Novels & Stories

I have the best brother in the world. End

And with that, he walked off. Alessia glared at his retreating figure. I cleared my throat. “Things seem tense. Brielle was right—you two need to get each other out of your systems,” I lowered my gaze. “Which you shouldn’t.” A casual relationship was a ticking time bomb from the start. I knew that better than anyone. I slept with my best friend’s brother to get it out of our systems. I fell in love. I got dumped. I lost my best friend of three years.

She wondered why she never told Tilly about the way she felt for her brother. It was weird, because she and Tilly told each other everything. They kept nothing from each other. Tilly parents had even invested in her food truck business when she started it to show their support, but she'd kept her crush on Kaleb a secret. Maybe she was just scared of the way Tilly would react. What if Tilly didn't like the idea of her dating her brother? Would it leave a mark on their relationship?

And the exact man I’ve been avoiding like he’s a walking temptation… Because he is. Roman Maddox’s name lodged in the back of my throat like something I’d been told not to chew. My brother’s best friend since high school. The one who showed up at every family event like a brooding shadow with a grin that didn’t match the rest of his face.

Arggh… and it just has been quite a really long time since it was just us two. My brother just innocently came and stole my best friend. Well, he should thank the heavens, that it is him and not someone else. …maybe if things had worked out with Helios or Eros, I just might not be feeling this way... "Giving up so soon?" Ezli mutters

He is Reile’s brother, the youngest and naughtiest. I still remember he brought me a cupcake last week when I sat quietly in my basement room, watching my parent’s video and celebrating my birthday alone. But all my complaints aside, when I meet my best friend, Milo Efrain. He is more than I can explain in words. We have been together since I don’t know how long. Our mothers were best friends, and they passed those genes to us to continue the friendship bond. He is one of a handsome man, own an event management company.

I shoved the phone back into my pocket, Sienna’s voice drifted from inside before I even rang the bell. “Zayne! About time!” I exhaled softly, trying not to let her energy get under my skin. The door swung open, and there she was. Isla. She looked…. lighter. Whatever problem she had from earlier wasn’t gone, not entirely, but the tension in her shoulders had loosened slightly. Her wet hair clung to her face, but she held herself with quiet dignity, her eyes pinned on my face. Did she recognize me? “You’re here,” Sienna said, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a child announcing something exciting. “Zayne, meet my best friend. Isla. Isla, this is the infamous older brother.”

Now I'm standing here like an idiot, waiting for Marcus to show up, because apparently I'm incapable of planning ahead. Why didn't I just drive myself? Right. Because Nina said she'd buy me coffee if I rode with her. And I am weak for free caffeine. So here I am. Waiting. And Marcus is probably balls deep in some blonde right now. I don't mean that as an insult. I mean it as a fact. My brother is a man whore. Always has been. Always will be. He dates women the way other people change socks, frequently and without much thought. Another reason Nina can't stand him. She calls him "emotionally constipated." I call him predictable.

apartment, concerning we’re in the middle on divorce process. The walls were closing in. If I couldn't find a place, I’d be stuck in that guest-room-limbo forever. I was about to shut my laptop in frustration when a notification popped up. An email. Subject: Yo, Little Bird! Guess who's back? I frowned, clicking it open. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the name. Brandon. Brandon was the older brother of my best friend growing up. He was the guy who taught me how to ride a bike and once chased off a pack of bullies with nothing but a scowl and a hockey stick.

“My best friend, Chancé, would never do something like that. She’s not like you. She’s the purest person I know. She would never like my brother too.” To be honest, I want to die hearing those words. They hammer into my chest—the pain, the lie, all of it. I’m lying to my best friend. I’m evil, and she’s defending me. Hazel is right about one thing: I am a conniving, creepy slut, a liar who smiles to her best friend’s face while behind her back she’s sleeping with her brother.