My Brothers Best Friends Novels & Stories

"Well he is one of my business partners and I consider him my best friend." My boyfriends bestfriend is my brother. Oh my this is kind of illegal right? I think I've read one story like this. The older brother got angry with his bestfriend because he hook up with his sister! Oh my God no! "Gideon! He will disapprove of our relationship!" I exclaimed. "What are you saying love?" "I mean he is your bestfriend!" "So?" "I mean brothers doesn't like their sister dating their friends right? Like a- like a dude code!"

Adams annoyingly replied. "You've never kept anything from me, if I say myself, I literally know every single damn thing about you, I know about everything going on in your life and that's because we share a strong bond, calling you my best friend is an understatement Adams, you're my brother, we're brothers and brothers should stick to each other and try to help each other isn't it?" "Just tell me what's wrong and I promise to do my best to help you like I've always done, you never keep things from me Adams, and I'm sure you're not going to start now."

When he can't get you off with his little dick, I give you permission to fantasize about me. "Thanks, but no thanks. That would only make me throw up," I snap back. We grew up together, and he, Nikolai, and Mason have always tormented me behind Gray's back. The only reason I even invited my brother's asshole best friends because Gray insisted. According to him, they're family and deserve to be treated as such. But I hate them all. "When shit doesn't work out between you and Isaac, just know you can call me anytime," King says with a shrug, his words igniting my anger.

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.

Dave stood up protectively and so did I. “Um, I’ll be there in a second.” I told Brad quickly. He didn’t turn to me, he just kept looking at Dave. “Brad, I’ll be with you in a while. Can you please excuse me now?” I said surprising myself by how stern I was. After a quick glance at me and without a word, Brad walked away. I turned to Dave. “Who’s he?” Dave asked. “He’s my best friend’s brother. We’re sort of family.” I added quickly.

Matthew was Scott's best friend. He had been Scott's best friend for years before I ever had a real conversation with him, and Scott was my brother, and this was Scott's wedding weekend, and there were going to be family members and old friends arriving at this resort today, people who had known all of us for years, and somewhere among all of that I was going to have to stand in the same room as Matthew and behave as though last night had not happened.

“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.

Nyra stared at the screen blankly for a few seconds before raising an eyebrow, “Why am I looking at a picture of Professor Moore?” Elara turned her head sharply to her friend, tears pooling in her eyes, “That's my brother” Nyra inhaled loudly, the sound harsh in the quiet of the room, like she’d been punched in the chest. “What the fuck.”

He affirmed my identity just as I affirmed his. Luxuria Drakton. One of my father's best friends. My father had two best friends and one would think that both friends of his would also be friends but that wasn't the case. Luxuria Drakton and Grayson Drakton. Brothers. But I had never met brothers who hated each other as much as both did.

It’s the closest thing to an olive branch he’s offered since the door came off its hinges, and I don’t cry, though it’s a close call, and I decide, riding the subway home that night, that maybe some things really do heal slowly instead of all at once, in small unremarkable dinners at diners with bad coffee, instead of in the big dramatic scenes movies promise you. I don’t know yet that I’m about to need every bit of that healing, sooner than I think, or that the specific warmth of tonight — bad coffee, worse banter, my brother laughing again like something in him has finally started to unclench — is going to be one of the things I hold onto hardest in the months ahead.