Chapter 1 Sophie #3
But the guys definitely look different. Benny, his tattooed arms and scruffy facial hair that looks like he hasn’t shaved in a couple days, his large biceps on full display.
Matthew with his messy surfer blond hair, his jaw sharper and not as soft as I remember.
He’s definitely filled out too, no longer the baby-faced neighbor I remember.
And Elijah…
My gaze drifts to him, to his deep, warm gaze.
He looks different too. Older. More refined and sophisticated, in his button-down and khakis.
In a way, he reminds me of Keaton with his business-casual chic appearance, but I know in reality Elijah isn’t anything like Keaton.
Not by a long shot. I have to fight to look away from him, especially because I know if I keep it up, I’ll just hurt myself more.
I’ll remember how things used to be. How he used to be my best friend.
How I lost him too…
Given the fact that I haven’t seen any of them in years, I know I should be happy, maybe even a little chatty.
I should want to catch up and shoot the shit and all that, but I can’t seem to find the energy for that right now.
Maybe if things were different, and I hadn’t found my fiancé balls deep in another woman on our bed, I would feel differently, but right now it’s taking all my concentration to not break down over what happened, and I think the fact that I’m standing here in Sam’s living room without bawling is a feat in itself.
I turn my attention away from Elijah to see Matthew smiling softly at me, the sight making my stomach flip. Well, I mean…that could be the anxiety, the nerves too.
My skin heats, and suddenly I feel rather dizzy. I need to sit down, need to breathe…
Almost as if he can read my mind, Benny speaks, his tone commanding and brash. “Sit down, Soph. Stay awhile.” I watch as he takes a pull of his beer, watch as his piercing blue eyes capture my gaze in a stern challenge. Like he’s the boss of me.
Spoiler alert—he’s not, and he never was, but…
He smirks that cocky smirk that I used to find so fucking hot back when I was a teenager, and I forget for the briefest moment where I am. Some time slip between yesterday and today? I can’t be sure.
Technically, Benny’s older than the rest of us, but only by three years, which isn’t much now. The age gap between twenty-eight and thirty-one isn’t all that big, but the age gap between sixteen and nineteen or eighteen and twenty-one…
He was always my brother’s hot older friend back then.
And Matthew is the baby of the group—five years younger than Benny. The two have always acted like they’re brothers rather than friends. Though Sam has always said Benny is like the older brother he never had. I’m pretty sure that’s how everyone sees him, honestly.
And I guess that was how I was supposed to feel too, but…it wasn’t. Not by a long shot.
Benjamin Anderson was the guy I knew I couldn’t have, but who filled my fantasies more often than he probably should have.
Especially during those long summer nights, when he and my brother and their friends would stay up all night swimming and partying, or those summer days when he’d parade through my house shirtless between video game sessions.
I’ll take those forbidden fantasies about him shoving me up against the wall or stumbling into my room in the middle of the night to my fucking grave.
My brother nods toward my suitcase. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited you’re here early, but…I thought you were supposed to arrive on Friday? At Paradise. Did your flight get changed at the last minute or something?” He drinks the beer he offered me
“Yeah,” I lie, tense. Well, it’s not entirely a lie. My flight did get changed; it just wasn’t the airline that made that change…
“Change of plans,” I say, forcing a smile.
“Your uh…guest room still open?” I bat my eyelashes at him, and I know I’m probably laying it on too thick, but I don’t want him to question me.
Not here, and certainly not now. I just want to crash on a soft mattress, pull up some warm covers, and block out the world until it’s time for my brother to say I do.
But my life is never that easy. This isn’t some freaking romance novel. If it was, I wouldn’t be single and alone for my brother’s wedding.
Sam looks me up and down, twisting his lips. His gaze catches mine.
Shit. I know that look, that judgmental stare.
He definitely knows something is up. Twin bonds are like that.
Even when you don’t want them to, your twin always has a way of just knowing what’s going on, what you’re feeling or going through.
It used to freak me out when I was little, but it’s kind of comforting too, to know that there’s one person in the world who gets you. Who you can never truly hide from.
But sometimes…it’s annoying as fuck. Like right now. When I know he knows something, but the question is whether he’s going to call me out on it or if he’s going to let it go.
I pray he lets it go.
“Mom and Dad know about this…change of plans?”
Well, I guess today really isn’t my lucky day at all.
I can feel the guys’ stares on me. I purse my lips. Of course he would bring this up now. Just when I need him to go with the flow, he’s going to throw a monkey wrench in things. The last thing I want to do is get into what happened—especially in front of the guys.
Technically, I could stay with our parents until we leave for literal paradise.
But I didn’t go there. I came here. Because I wanted comfort, not a thousand questions.
Showing up at my parents’ place without warning would definitely get me a thousand questions, and I thought maybe Sam would just be excited to see me. That the surprise would be a plus.
Not to mention if Sam lets me crash here for a few days, maybe we both can avoid them until we leave, and I can just take some time to fucking breathe…to figure out what I’m going to do…
“What the hell does that matter?” I bite out, too spent from the exhaustion of my day.
From finding Keaton with that girl…from the hellish flight…
“Why do I have to run everything by Mom and Dad like I’m fucking fourteen again?
Maybe I just wanted to spend time with my brother before everything starts to get crazy and your time is eaten up by everyone else. ”
I don’t miss the way his eyebrows furrow, or the sudden frown on his face.
Shit.
Now I feel like an even bigger asshole.
He purses his lips. “I’m just saying, you know how Mom is about change.”
I do know. I know Mom hates it when things change at the last minute. It messes with her routine and schedule, and she gets super anxious. Another reason why I didn’t think calling her two days prior to my arrival at the drop of a hat was a good idea.
I have no clue how she and my dad found common ground, seeing as he’s the exact opposite.
He’s chaos in a glass jar half the time.
He’s the one I’d describe as spontaneous or whimsical, more able to adapt to the “swinging palm trees” of life, as he says.
But where it matters, he can be stern and commanding. Like with me and my brother.
But even if I had called my dad and told him I was coming home early, it wouldn’t have mattered. I wouldn’t be giving him or her enough notice to adapt.
Seriously, how I was born into a family of super-organizers is beyond me.
The last thing I want to hear right now is my mother mewling about how she planned everything around me and my arrival and now nothing will go as planned, as if making sure the sheets are clean and whatnot is a huge chore, but I digress.
She would act like my deciding to come early is a huge inconvenience, when literally everyone else is flying in today and tomorrow.
I can hear her now. “They were able to stick to the plan. Why couldn’t you? ”
Before I can dig my hole any deeper and put my foot in my mouth, Elijah gets up, heading toward me, which only makes me panic. It’s like the room shifts as he gets closer, like the heat inside me flares from him alone.
I need to move. To get out of here. Fast. Because the closer Elijah gets, the more in danger I am of falling apart in his presence, the same way I fell apart with him so many times in my youth.
I know all too well how warm and comforting those arms are. How soothing his shhhh, it’s okay is. I also know how tempting it is to close my eyes and pretend Elijah Brecker is mine and no one else’s, and how fucked up that is. Especially given the fact that he’s never been mine to begin with.
I shift my stance, moving backward as I clutch my suitcase, avoiding Elijah’s gaze. I have to resist temptation. I don’t need Sam or Benny or Matthew or Elijah to see me crumble like sand. Not now, not ever.
I need to focus on Sam and his wedding. I need to think of something other than Keaton and the fact that my life is a mess.
So of course, I say what I shouldn’t say. I bite at him out of exhaustion and stress, out of disdain for this whole fucked-up day.
“Well, fuck change,” I say. “Can I stay with you or not?” My voice comes out more bitter than I intended.
My brother sighs.
“Soph, is everything okay?” Elijah asks, and I realize he’s practically inches away from me.
My body flushes with heat, and I let out a frustrated grunt, moving away from him.
I don’t miss the look of guilt, of sadness on his face, but I don’t have time to soothe Elijah right now.
I can barely handle myself and my own feelings.
Benny and Matthew are watching me as well, with concerned expressions.
Great. Now I’m being judged.
Good job, Soph.
“I’m fine,” I snarl at Elijah. He has the audacity to look hurt, like somehow I’m the bad guy, and that stings more than it should. He should know me better. He used to be my best friend, but…I guess that’s my fault too.
I left, and he slipped through the cracks.
Some friend.