The Wrong Time (The Hendricks Billionaires #4)

Chapter 1

brANDON

Everything happens for a reason.

But there is no good reason in the entire universe as to why my best friend is lying in a hospital bed with a season-ending injury while I am free to play.

Why?

Because I am to blame.

We have barely uttered a word since. His injury is not the only reason he won’t take my calls. In the days leading up to the game, I confessed I was secretly with his sister, so he despised me before that game.

Now, multiply his bitterness a thousand times, and that’s where our friendship stands.

Despite everything, he is my best friend.

And since moving to the US, his family has been my family.

They have taken me in as one of their own, and when I can’t fly home to Australia to see my family at Christmas, his mom even buys me one of those ugly knitted sweaters to wear, along with her other sons.

Christmas is only weeks away, and Mrs. Hendricks expects me to attend.

Right now, I need to apologize to Byron and make peace with him so the family can enjoy Christmas without the hostility. Before knocking on his hospital room door, I swipe the text messages from Charlotte to see if I’m missing anything.

Please visit Byron. He needs his best friend.

I doubt I’m the one he wants to see the day after his surgery, but I care about him like a brother.

Knock. Knock.

A nurse opens the door. “You can enter now,” she barks. “Mr. Hendricks required more pain relief,” she says as she hurries away.

“Thanks.”

I peer around her to see Byron’s face, a pale gray, sickly color. “Hey.” I place the chocolates I had sent from Australia to give him for Christmas on his bedside table. “Thought you might appreciate these now.”

His eyes track me as I move to the other side of the room and sit in the chair beside him.

“You look like shit, bro,” I say to lighten the mood.

He slowly closes his eyes and reopens them. “Feel a whole lot fucking worse than what I look,” he mumbles. “Thanks to you.”

I flinch, but I shouldn’t be surprised. I nod slowly. “I’m so sorry, man. It should never have happened.”

“You distracting me so my opponent took me down or are we talking about Charlotte?” His eyes darken with disgust.

Family is off-limits.

It’s what he told the team, and the person who should have understood the most was his best friend. Byron has never liked surprises, despises liars even more, and the two people he trusted most deceived him.

He’ll come around and understand we love each other. But just being here is making him angry, and I can’t see that happening any time soon.

I revert to it being about basketball. “I shouldn’t have called for the ball. I knew it wasn’t the play Coach setup for us. But I was free, and I didn’t think Jye could shake the defense to get the pass…”

“You wanted to be the fucking hero,” he spits.

I bow my head. “In a fucked-up way, yeah, I did. If I hit the shot, I thought Coach would believe in me. Charlotte and you could see I’m ready to step up. I have stepped up,” I say calmly.

“Stop making this about you.” Byron plops his head back on the bed as though he’s exhausted. He closes his eyes and wraps his hands protectively over his stomach.

“I’m sorry. It’s not why I came here. You need rest, and I wanted to say sorry. Again! In person.” His eyes remain closed. “Ask for your approval to see Lottie because we love each other.” Shit! That came out as a demand.

Byron turns his head and glares at me. My chest tightens, knowing whatever he says next will not be good.

“It’s not about Lottie and you,” he roars.

“You were someone I trusted. Both of you were. So don’t give me bullshit excuses.

And I don’t give two fucks what you two do now.

” His pale face grimaces, and he reaches with both hands to grab his thigh.

Shit, he’s in pain. “What I’m pissed about is that I’m lying here because you didn’t listen to Coach.

You made me out as an asshole on the court.

It wasn’t about you scoring in my position.

You heard the play Coach wanted, and I called it.

Then you distracted me, and here I am. Why didn’t you set a screen, man?

You talk about me, but you’re a selfish bastard, and I’m here because of you!

” He yells the final blow, lays back deflated, and closes his eyes.

At first, my mouth falls open in shock.

My fucking heart can’t take it.

I have lost my best friend…

And more.

He’ll never trust me again.

He’ll never accept me with his sister.

My throat burns like fire, keeping the emotion under wrap.

“Get out,” he murmurs, an order, but my presence is obviously exhausting him.

I can’t leave quickly enough. There’s no talking to him when he’s like this.

Charlotte and Giana stand in the doorway.

Great. We had an audience.

Keeping my head down before they see my bloodshot eyes, I move past them. If they ask me something, I’m going to lose it.

“Babe.” Charlotte lays a hand on my arm.

I can’t look at her. “I’m outta here.” It’s all I can manage without the tears choking my damn throat.

“Give him time,” she whispers. “He only just got out of surgery.”

“I tried,” I whisper. I hold my breath but shake my head as though it’s pointless. “I’ll see you later.” I hold in the sniff until I’m past the nurses’ station heading toward the exit.

How do we come back from here?

It’s the day after arriving home from being on the road for the last four games. Before getting out of the car, I read Charlotte’s last text sent three days ago.

Hey, BJ, let’s keep it quiet for another week. I’m with Byron most days and want to be there to support him while he is going through this. We’ll catch up next week and chat.

I know it’s for the best.

Dressed in a business suit, I walk into a private meeting room in Jobe’s office, where he and Franklin await.

No one knows about the trade—especially not Charlotte.

I loosen my tie not only because I fucking hate suits—it feels like it’s choking me—but because of the lump in the back of my throat I’ve been carrying around for weeks. The receptionist alerts the men to my arrival, and then Jobe steps out of the doorway down the hall.

He extends his arm toward the room. “BJ. Please come in.”

I barely lift my eyes from the marble floor, only glancing up to shake the brothers’ hands.

“Take a seat, BJ.” My heart is in my mouth from just being around these two, the power emanating from them being in the same room as me. Wiping my hands on my trousers, I sit down. Christ, I’m sweating bullets. How am I going to think straight?

“Are you sure about this?” Franklin begins. “We’re at a crossroad here, and it’s not too late to change your mind.”

I shake my head. “It needs to happen.” I slowly raise my eyes and look at Jobe, the least intimidating one out of the two. “I have to go away for a while until it all blows over.”

“Things don’t blow over. You address it, own it, and everyone moves on,” Franklin states, but he has no clue how bad the situation is.

Charlotte is torn in two. I need to make it easier for her because she cannot choose me.

I won’t be responsible for tearing this family apart, and we cannot simply put our love on hold.

Eventually, she’ll realize it’s not a choice, and then the heartbreak will follow. I don’t want to stick around for that.

Byron was my best friend.

He won’t speak to me or answer my calls or texts.

He told me to stay the fuck away.

There’s a huge hole in my heart, and I’m grieving. I can’t shake myself out of this darkness, and the only choice I have is to leave. If I stay, I’ll be reminded every day of what I have lost, and I don’t have the strength to survive it.

“Byron will get over this,” Jobe says gently. “You just need to give it time.”

“And if he doesn’t?” I croak.

Franklin and Jobe stare at each other. Franklin coughs, and I look at his poker face.

“I assure you he will. He’s stubborn, I’ll grant you that, but he will come around.

He’s angry and afraid since this is the first time he’s been injured and unable to play.

While he blames you for now, in time, he’ll see it was an accident, and no one was to blame. ”

“But I was to blame.” I shrug. “Your entire family knows I did this.”

“BJ, we know accidents happen,” Jobe offers. “You were not the one playing defense on him.”

“So no one blames me? The truth?” I ask incredulously. The two seconds of silence tell me all I need to know. “Is Chicago offering a good deal?”

Franklin straightens his shoulders. “They are.” This family is all about the business, and as their father is the team’s governor, I can’t see how they can pass it up.

“When do I leave?” The words sound foul coming out of my mouth.

“Four days,” Franklin clarifies.

“Lottie will be heartbroken. What are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t know. She’ll try to convince me to stay.” I shake my head, lost for words because the conversation will kill me.

“I don’t think she will.” Jobe gives me a pointed look. “She’ll want to go with you.”

Fuck.

I’ve just realized how it could make the situation worse.

Franklin raises a brow. “Think about your words carefully. Convince her that long-distance love lasts, so plan time together before you leave.”

I nod, agreeing with his charade because it didn’t work for Franklin. He glances at his watch—these men are time-poor.

I stand and hold out a hand, knowing it’s possibly the last time I will see them both. “Thank you for helping and for the confidentiality.”

Franklin holds my hand tight. “We’re here for you, Brandon. If you need any help, please reach out.”

“Thank you.” I turn to Jobe.

“I hope we get to do business again one day. This doesn’t have to be the end of the road with the LA Sharks.” He eyes me seriously.

“I hope not. Your family has always been good to me, and this team…” I shake my head as I choke on the words.

“I mean it.” Jobe lets go of my hand. “We’ll be here for Charlotte and Byron. But we need your help as well, especially when you break it to her. Be gentle. If she wants to attend your first game, then she can take the jet to watch you play. We’ll support her any way we can.”

“Thanks,” I rasp out quickly before I turn into a blubbering imbecile.

I leave the office, and the moment I slam my car door closed, I burst into tears.

The only choice I have is to quietly leave before I ruin everything.

This isn’t about me. I have to protect Charlotte—from me.

I need to do what is best for her, Byron, and this family.

I was kidding myself, believing Charlotte and I had a future.

I’m not who Charlotte needs. I’m the furthest model of the right man for her.

It will kill her… almost.

I thump the steering wheel as a sharp pain wrenches at my gut. It will kill me. But she’ll get over it, move on, and become someone important in the Hendricks dynasty. I easily imagine the vision of her alongside her brothers.

Who will be the man on her arm? Another wave of sadness smashes into me like a tidal wave.

When I picture it, the final piece of my fucking heart breaks for the last time.

The deal is done.

I have to live with it.

And learn to live without her.