روايات وقصص ضمن He Was My Brothers Best Friend

“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.

“Big difference.” I smirk because it’s easier than admitting she’s right. I’ve spent years perfecting the art of pretending Mia Reynolds is just Noah’s little sister. The kid who used to steal my fries and punch me in the arm when I called her squirt. Except she stopped being a kid somewhere between high school graduation and now, and every time she walks into a room I have to remind myself she’s off limits. Noah’s off limits. Best friend code. Blood oath shit. But tonight the code feels paper thin.

James tentatively asked, "You do not have that kind of thought, do you?" Ryan: "Even rabbits know not to eat the grass near their burrows. Do you think I, as a human, do not know that?" James sighed. "I just returned to the country. I have not contacted any of my old friends. You are the only brother I can trust." Ryan seemed hesitant. "Brother, you know I am a powerful and influential person in New York. I am very busy." Power and influence are essential to protecting his sister. James: "Ryan, did you not just say we are family? Refusing to help me take care of my sister now is really hurting our brotherly bond."

I didn’t know yet that I’d just found the one thread that, pulled hard enough, could unravel him or that ten years later, I’d still remember exactly where to find it. We spent the whole afternoon the way kids do trading names, testing each other out, figuring out where the edges were. I found out he didn’t have a best friend. I told him he should get one, that Alexandra and I did everything together, that my brother was the best best friend anyone could have. Alexandra just shrugged, already looking at Marion the way you look at something you’ve decided to keep. Marion nodded slightly. Like he’d gotten the message. Like he’d filed it away somewhere I couldn’t see.

Then he leaned forward. "I've been thinking," he said. "About everything. About the past year. About what you went through." She set down her coffee. "Mason—" "Let me finish." He held up a hand. "I'm your brother. Your older brother. I'm supposed to protect you. I'm supposed to be there for you. And I wasn't." "You were." "I wasn't." His voice was firm. "I was so caught up in my own life, my own problems, that I didn't see what was happening to you. I didn't see that you were drowning."

Just the mention of Thorne’s name makes my pulse spike and my heart skip. Fucking hell. I still hate him. Thorne Xandros was my brother’s best friend and the first man I ever have a crush on. But Alec always reminded me that Thorne is like our brother. He always smacked Thorne on the head if Thorne looked at me longer than he should. “She’s our sister, Thorne. Don’t forget that,” Alec always said to Thorne in situations like that. But I never wanted to be a sister to Thorne. I wanted something intimate.

She stared at him in confusion. " I'll be your brother. " He grinned, saying the words. " Baby sis." " That's not possible, is it? " The thought of her best friend acting as her big brother amused her, especially because they were two completely different roles and obligations. " You can't be. " " Why not? Is it because I am your best friend? " Mira nodded in response to his question. " You know, Mira. Being your best friend makes becoming your brother easier. You know why? " He continued, seeing her nod in response. " I know you, more than anyone does and that's one of the characteristics of a brother. "

I shouted but all he could see the hurt in me, the pain in me. He stood there his expressions soft as he listened to my rant. He opened his arms to me because he knew the only way he could comfort me. Not bothering about the fact that I was still in bathrobe I ran into his arms as he held me in a protective stance. Like a brother to his sister. Like a protector. Like a best friend. And I knew he was there, no matter what he would always be there for me. My best friend. Rudy. He was my brother not by blood but every vein in me knew that he would always be there for me. No matter what.

Maybe I was complaining too damn much but what else did you expect to do when you’d fallen from grace. There was only one true friend I had, Fredericko, he was my man (not in the literal sense) but he was my bro, my Spanish-Italian brother from another mother. When my dad wouldn’t lend me money, Fred let me borrow some, when dad threw me out of the house, Fred welcomed me into his house, when my one-night stands tried to wreck my car, Fred took care of it. Fred was the definition of how a best friend should be. And when my exes so much as tried to bitch about him, I’d dumped them right then. Because it has always been bros before hoes for me.

"And at least three kids." "Three?" He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I'm assuming you're an only child?" "I have a brother," I replied. "And he's one of my best friends." "I have two sibling," he explained without me even having to ask. "One is my best friend, the other my worst enemy." "Brothers or sisters?" "One of each," he answered. "My brother is my biggest critic." "There's nothing wrong with constructive criticism," I smiled knowingly. Becca was by far my biggest critic, but it had made me who I was today. "Unless you're too proud to take it on board."