Off-Side Love With My Best Friend's Brother
Wren
If jealousy was a color, I was currently a very loud, very ugly shade of fucked up neon green.
I sat at the kitchen island of the ultra-modern penthouse, aggressively stabbing a fork into a bowl of fruit. Across the room, Dani was leaning against the counter, completely oblivious to my internal crisis. He was wearing nothing but grey sweatpants, his dark hair messy from sleep, looking so ridiculously handsome it felt like a personal insult.
"You're going to murder that melon, Wren," Dani observed, a faint, amused twitch at the corner of his lips.
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