Page 30 of Secret Baby for My Brother's Best Friends

I shake my head. “Would her being married even dissuade you?”

He mulls over it. “Probably not.”

Of course. He’s a psycho after all. Completely gone over her.

"What is it about her?" I ask him. "You've never even had a conversation with her. You met her once and then fucked, andthen she left. So what has you this sprung? I'm sure there are plenty of other women who would be open to your intense brand of obsession, so why her?"

He shakes his head without answering. "You wouldn't understand."

I raise an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He's saved from answering when Jake comes sauntering in from the other end of the hall, probably done with his private meeting with James.

“Where did she go?" he asks.

“Where did who go?”

“Oh come on,” he says. “You know exactly who I’m talking about. Don’t pretend you weren’t staring at her, too. And the good news is, she’s not dating James.”

"The bad news is that she’s James’s sister,” I tell him. "Come on, you guys get how messy this could be, don’t you?”

They both summarily ignore me.

Of course, because as usual, I’m the only one with a working brain here.

I'm the only one who sees clearly how this could all blow up in our faces.

It’s not just about the fact that she’s James's sister. It’s also the fact that they like her too much.

Both of them.

It doesn’t escape me that Sam specified that he asked her out on a date for himself. And Jake…Jake has never had a woman he’s taken seriously before, but he has a possessive streak a mile wide, one that he likes to keep hidden.

It’s something he fights fervently and tries to overcome, but it’s in his nature to cling to things that are dear to him.

If they both end up falling in love with her, it’s going to be nothing short of a disaster.

What about you? Or are you going to pretend you don’t feel something for her, too?

I wash that thought away. It’s not about me. I can deal with my feelings much more maturely than they can, so I’m not worried about myself. It's them I'm concerned about. Luckily, she's not giving them the time of day, but if she ever does, I worry about the future of this friendship.

When I get up the day of our next meeting, Jake is cleaning.

Not just cleaning. Humming.

That’s a bad sign. It’s a sign that he’s done some plotting, and whatever he plotted is coming to fruition.

After I get out of bed and use the bathroom, I walk out and eye him suspiciously before asking him, “Why are you cleaning?”

“Because a clean home is the sign of a clean mind and a clean soul,” he parrots. “At least that’s what my grandmother used to tell me.”

"And you chose today to listen to her?" I run my hands on the waxed counters, scanning the spotless table tops, freshly washed rugs, and even the television that had been wiped down and was now devoid of any handprints.

"It's a weekday," I say. "You usually only do this type of cleaning on a rare Saturday."

"Maybe I just felt like it today."

“Is someone coming over?”