My Best Friends Brother

Chapter 25

I need to open my eyes, I know I do. I’m just fucking terrified that the moment the world snaps back into place I’ll realise last night was just a dream. A perfect dream.

It can’t be... it was all too real. There’s no way to imagine that feeling.

My body awakens with the adrenaline caused as I relive the memory over and over in my mind. That kiss, what a fucking kiss. I force my eyelids open, every drop of fear and trepidation disappearing the moment I’m met with that perfect hazel ones.

“Morning...”

I thought he’d be freaking out, I half expected him to have made a run for it to Eli’s room in the early hours if I’m honest. I didn’t expect to open my eyes to his gorgeous smile, his firm body still tucked against mine and my hand surrounded by the warmth of his own.

How did we manage to sleep without breaking them apart?

His glowing smile wavers. Shit, I haven’t even said anything, I’ve just been staring at him. If he could see how handsome he looks right now he’d appreciate why I’m so distracted.

“Josh?” Oh god, even his husky deep morning voice just speaking something as simple as my name forces my heart to beat like it never knows when it’ll have the chance again. “Fuck, you’re freaking out...”

I am? I mean my head is spinning, my breath is coming out in pants and I kind of have the urge to throw up but... Shit, I’m freaking out.

Milo pulls his hand from mine carefully, the loss of his touch leaving an empty space in my hold I immediately want him to fill again. I’m ready to reach out and take it back when suddenly he grabs hold of my face and forces me to steady myself as I look at him. We’re still so fucking close, his breath is brushing against the lips he kissed raw last night. I didn’t even change my clothes before we fell asleep, and neither did he, not that those tight fucking jeans of his have stopped him wrapping himself around me at all.

“Josh,” He stares deeply into my eyes, his observant view captivating me as the corners of his lips turn up into the cutest fucking smile I’ve ever seen. Boy’s like this are fucking dangerous. “I don’t regret it. If you’re freaking because you think I’ve woken up this morning feeling any different, or that I’m going to just leave and pretend it never happened, you’re wrong. I don’t regret it at all... Do you?”

I know the right words to say here. Yes, I should say yes. I should tell him it was a mistake, that we should forget it, move forward and never tell anyone. But you try lie to that fucking face..

“No. I don’t regret it.”

The once subtle curl up in his lips morphs into a full on smirk, one I find myself mimicking. He doesn’t regret it... and I’m so fucking happy he doesn’t. Damn, what the hell is this inveigler doing to me?

His hold on my face loosens, the morning rays bouncing off his high cheekbones and basking him in angelic light as his hands transverse their way from my jaw to hold the back of my neck.

I’m not sure what the fuck I thought was going to happen this morning, I didn’t really get much time to think about it at all - what with having the most perfect hot and heavy make out session of my fucking life that eventually made me pass out, to keep me busy.

Of all the things I thought though, I didn’t expect to be here right now, smiling like I just won the fucking lottery at the man who’s making my stomach do somersaults. Especially with that same gorgeous man staring at my lips like this.

“Miles...”

“Just... Fuck, can I kiss you again?”

He’s so fucking cute. Is he seriously asking for permission here?

He doesn’t want to push it, I can see that. You’d swear he was the one ten years older than I am with how gentle he’s being with me. There’s always been something with Miles, just that thing that makes you want to fucking adore him... and I do.

Fuck it.

“Ye-”

*BANG BANG BANG*

We both spring apart at the sound of the door, immediate fear tearing it’s way through the room and wiping away all the happiness of five seconds ago as a sudden terrifying thought comes to me.

Did he lock the door when he came in last night?

His arms, his legs, everything in him is locked around me and I can feel his reluctancy to pull away. He has to, he knows it, his eyes are just begging for another minute that we both realise I can’t give him.

Fuck. What the fuck am I doing here with him?

*BANG BANG BANG*

“Jones! Thompson! Get the fuck up you lazy shits. We’ve got time for one last practise before we leave and don’t think you having a hangover will stop me making you run laps Thompson! Five minutes and you’d better be on that court, or for every minute you’re late I’ll add another ten fucking laps!”

Coach’s voice bellowing through the grain of the wood like it’s not even there.

Miles swings his legs out to the floor immediately, scrambling to get to his feet and making a piss-poor job of it as he begins to tumble. Fuck, don’t laugh...

“Yes Coach!” He rips off his jeans and dives for his half packed suitcase, pulling out a pair of shorts as I half shove a toothbrush into my mouth and do my best not to look at the dream guy half-naked standing right in front of me. Why does waiting five minutes for your food to arrive seem to take an hour but getting given five minutes to get ready seem to pass by in less than thirty seconds?!

I don’t even attempt to look at the shower, throwing my stripped off clothes from last night onto the bed and pulling on my only pair of clean shorts. I can’t find a fucking clean shirt anywhere though, I didn’t think Coach would spring another practise on us this morning! Suddenly a wave of white flies towards me, the fabric hitting my face followed by Miles’ sudden laughter.

“I have no issues with you being topless, like all the fucking time, but I figured you’d need that.”

Jesus Christ Milo, stop fucking flirting right now. This is why Brie shouldn’t be allowed to be around kids growing up, look at the influence she’s had.

I pull the balled up piece of cloth wide and realise it’s one of his shirts. The slamming of doors from the hallway echoes through the room and now I know we’re definitely fucking late so I just shove it on.

Okay, firstly; it’s fucking tight. Secondly; how the fuck am I supposed to concentrate when it smells so much like him? It’s like he’s wrapped around me all over again. I’m so fucked for this practise and that smile on his face tells me he knows it too.

My Nike’s are hardly on my feet as we both make a rush for the door, the silence throughout the building a screaming reminder that we’re going to be the last ones there. Fucking brilliant. I’m not running laps. Like fuck am I running laps... I’m twenty-nine years old! I’m not a student anymore! He can’t make me... I’m going to run laps aren’t I? For fucks sake.

Miles practically throws himself down the stairs, leaping from floor to floor and laughing the entire time, revelling in competitive joy when he reaches the bottom a good five seconds before I do. Show off.

I jump from the bottom step and brush past him as I reach for the door, trying to ignore his sexy cocky fucking attitude, when suddenly I’m yanked back by my arm.

“Miles, what the fu-”

All thoughts of stopping whatever the hell he’s thinking of doing disappear the instant my back hits the wall behind me. The cold chill in this empty corridor suddenly feeling incredibly fucking hot as Miles brings his toned body in close to mine.

His hands slam into the wall on either side of my head, that tiny height difference he has on me seemingly growing ten fold as he stares down at my face. My heart was already pounding from the run down here but now it’s at the point of implosion as his head dips into the side of my neck, his lips brushing across the surface before settling next to my ear and placing small kisses on the sensitive flesh.

Fuck, has this guy got a book on my body or something? How the fuck does he know that spot already?

His hand falls from beside my head, balling up the hem of my shirt, his shirt, and slipping under to brush his fingertips over the skin of my hip. Fuck, every way he touches me, big or small, it feels so genuine. Like he craves the feeling of me, nothing is forced.

The whisper in his voice is hoarse, the sleep we were having minutes ago still clear in his tone. It doesn’t stop his words having that same sparking effect on me though.


“You look really fucking good in my clothes...”

This boy is going to fucking kill me. No man has ever made me so ridiculously breathless when doing so little. He has to stop, we can’t do this here.

“Miles, Coach is going to make you run fucking miles.”

He smirks against my skin, trailing the tip of his nose along the flesh before placing gentle kisses from my neck up, forcing them to become firmer as he makes it to my jaw.

This fucking perfect body of his... His abs are brushing against mine, his loose basketball shorts doing fuck all to hide what’s going on inside them now as he presses further into me. I fit, he fits. Guys are usually so much smaller than me I’m afraid to go near them, he’s so fucking strong... He can hold me here... even though, let’s face it, I’m not trying to escape.

His kisses stop, alowing him to pull himself back far enough that I can stare directly into the coffee of his orbs. Why can’t I stop smiling when I look at him?

“It’ll be worth it.”

The hand he had on the wall scoops behind my neck, tearing me forward from the surface of the brick straight into him as our lips connect.

Fuck, it’s the same.

I thought last night... everything was just running so high, there were so many fucking emotions. I thought it felt so good because of that, I thought it couldn’t possibly just be fucking kissing him.

But it is. Kissing him, fuck it’s perfect.

He likes to dominate, but so do I. Grabbing his waist firmly but never letting go of the kiss, I throw my whole body weight into flipping us until his back hits the wall.

He doesn’t even flinch, just deepens the kiss until I know I’d run a thousand fucking miles just to kiss him for another minute.

Our bodies come together like puzzle pieces, I realise now even his lips have been built like he was made for me. There’s nothing fucking awkward about it, it’s not like kissing all the guys I’ve tried to over the last decade. I’m not compelling myself to try, it’s just happening.

He’s different...

A sharp whistle from the hall along the path outside travels on the wind and snaps us out of our private oasis, obliging both of us to pull away before we have any chance of reaching the pinnacle of our satisfaction.

He grins at me, the most perfect mixture of smug and fucking beauty.

We both know we’re fucked, whatever this is, it’s going to fucking ruin us both.

Yet, like the hour of running we’ve just earned ourselves.

It’ll be fucking worth it.

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