Page 5 of Endlessly Yours (The Wilder Brothers #10)

Part of me hated the fact that anything having to do with a Wilder calmed me. Because Brooks Wilder had nothing to do with calm.

It was just my luck that my best friend, the person who knew every single thing about me except that night, happened to be married to his brother.

Fate truly hated me sometimes. As if I had conjured her, my phone buzzed, and I looked down at an incoming call from Ava.

Distractions already pushing through the day, I set down my work and answered.

“Hey there, bestie,” I said, trying to sound as if I hadn’t been crying.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, that fiery tone comforting.

“Just drawing.”

“That doesn’t actually answer my question, babe.”

“I hate that you can read me so well. I was just thinking about Mom and Dad and life. And then I was crying, and now I’m getting back to work. You know, typical Thursday.”

It wasn’t quite a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Thankfully, she wasn’t in front of me, so she wasn’t able to realize that.

“I’m so sorry, hon. Do you want me to come over? We can have tea and talk about boys.”

I snorted, knowing that that was the last thing that I wanted. Not that I didn’t love my best friend, but I wasn’t about to talk about boys. Because the only boy I wanted to think about these days was the one I couldn’t and shouldn’t have.

“There aren’t any boys to speak of, my friend. Unless we talk about yours. And unlike some of the Wilders, you don’t share yours.”

One of the Wilder cousins was married to not only a woman, but a man, and the three of them were in the most adorable and sexiest poly relationship I had ever known.

“Sorry, he’s all mine. I don’t share. I’m very territorial.”

“And Wyatt isn’t territorial at all,” I teased.

“Well, there was this one time?—”

“Nope,” I cut her off. “I do not want to know. You keep your sexy stories about your man to yourself. Unless we’re drinking Wilder Wine.”

“Meanie,” she teased. I shook my head and laughed, leaving my office in my small two-bedroom apartment and heading towards the tiny rally kitchen.

I’d rented it from a decent landlord, and they were nice to me, but things were getting a little shoddy.

I made decent enough money that I could rent a larger place, but part of me kept waiting to find a home.

One that I could buy and put down roots in.

One that would have space for Beth and her family when they visited.

Another stab to the heart.

Because they wouldn’t be visiting.

“Anyway, I’m calling because we have practice coming up and games all weekend. Are you going to be there, or are you going to take this weekend off from little kids’ soccer,” she asked.

I smiled before going to the tap to wash out my tea kettle. “Maisie is adorable in her little uniform. I should be able to make it. As long as I get caught up on work tonight and tomorrow, I’ll be on schedule, and then I can be her loudest cheering squad.”

“You could try, but we all know the Wilders are going to be louder.”

“That’s true. Damn it,” I grumbled as the faucet refused to turn off completely.

“What’s wrong?” Ava asked, alert.

“My stupid faucet keeps leaking, and I can’t fix it. And it annoys me because my landlord said he would fix it and he hasn’t, and I have a wrench. I know how to do these things. But I think it’s the actual faucet itself. And I can’t replace it since it’s not mine.”

“And the landlord’s not coming over at all?” Ava asked, annoyance in her tone.

“He said he would. But he has countless other things to do,” I griped. “It’s okay. I’ll fix it. Eventually. I’ll just put something under it so I can collect the water and not waste it.”

“I’ll send Brooks over.”

“No!” I called out and realized I screamed it into the phone.

Ava was silent for so long that I had no idea what she was thinking.

“I mean, no. You don’t need to send out one of your brother-in-laws to help me. I can handle it.”

“He also can help. East is working on another project out by Austin, or I would send him. But Brooks is right in my house at the moment talking with Wyatt. Let me just ask him.”

“It’s really okay. He’s a contractor. He builds homes for a living. He’s not a plumber.”

“You’re allowed to ask for help.”

“I do know that. You’re my best friend. I ask you all the time.”

“Whatever,” Ava mumbled.

“Ava Wilder, don’t you dare.”

“Oh, I am daring. Love you, bye!” Ava said, and the phone clicked off.

“She wouldn’t,” I mumbled. “Oh, she would.”

I looked around my tiny apartment, knowing it wasn’t shabby per se, but it wasn’t as beautiful as any of the homes that the Wilders lived in. Brooks had even built a few, and they were gorgeous masterpieces that my mouth watered over.

The problem, however, wasn’t him seeing me in a tiny apartment that I could afford easily. No, it was the fact that my mouth watered for him too.

I looked in the mirror over the sink, cursing that I had a messy bun on the top of my head, blue light glasses, and a coffee stain on my shirt.

I set my tea kettle on its stand, knowing that my afternoon tea was going to have to wait.

I wouldn’t have time to shower because Ava would probably force Brooks to drop everything he was doing and help me now, if he even agreed to it, and I quickly stripped off my shirt and leggings, nearly tripped over my feet, and ran to my bedroom.

I tossed my dirty clothes in the hamper and pulled on jeans that were a little snug over my wide hips, but I didn’t mind. They made me look hot.

Wait, why was I looking hot for Brooks?

Damn it.

I thought about taking them off and putting on a dress that was a little boxy, but then I would think about what I was wearing under the dress and…

why was I acting like this? I had lasted two years now being in the same room with Brooks without acting like a weirdo.

Two years where I focused on work and trying to be his friend.

Where we acted awkward, but hopefully not so awkward that anyone noticed.

In fact, no one had even mentioned it. Not even Ava, who I knew had noticed something at that first meeting.

But she had been so lost in her issues with Wyatt at the time that, maybe, she had forgotten.

I had lasted two years like this; I could do it longer.

I quickly put on a black three-quarters-length top, slid my feet into shoes so that way I wouldn’t be barefoot when he was walking around in work boots, and went to my desk.

I would just continue to work, and then he wouldn’t show up.

And everything would be fine.

Of course, nothing was fine.

The doorbell rang, and I nearly jumped out of my skin, setting my stylus down again. It had been 40 minutes since the call, and I had finally gotten back to work.

I quickly turned off my music and went to my door, telling myself I was an idiot.

When I opened the door, Brooks stood there, scowl on his face, and that chiseled jaw of his making it hard to breathe.

He was as tall as any of the Wilders, at least over six foot. Broad-shouldered, narrow waist, thick thighs, and a very thick cock.

No, I was not going to think about that.

It was just my luck that the sexiest man alive, with those haunted blue eyes that sometimes looked gray when he was truly angry or feeling an emotion I couldn’t touch or taste.

His nose had a slight bump in it where he must have broken it before, and his jaw was cut from granite itself.

Right now it was covered in a light beard, meaning he hadn’t shaved for a few days.

It was longer than it had been when it had been a little rough against my skin, and I had left that utility closet with a slight beard burn.

Not that anyone had noticed because I had run to my car and hidden at my apartment until I could breathe again.

And yet, I wasn’t breathing now.

“Ava said you needed help?” he asked, that gruff voice going straight down my spine.

“I’m really sorry for this. I can handle it on my own, I promise.”

“Is your landlord that shitty?” he asked as he looked around the small apartment and cursed under his breath. “Sorry. I’ve had a morning. But I really don’t mind fixing your faucet, Rory.”

Just the sound of my name on his tongue made me want to weep.

Because he never called me Rory. We never called each other by the other’s name.

We were so good about pretending we didn’t know each other that it felt as if I had him etched on my soul.

And how stupidly poetic was that?

I cleared my throat, knowing I was staring now, and took a step back.

“He helps with a lot of things, but while he’s nice, he’s slow. And I’ve tried to fix it myself, but it just leaks for a good 10 minutes or longer after I use it.”

“It might need to be replaced, Rory.”

“That’s what I told Ava. But I’m not allowed to replace things like that. Not without his permission, but he says he can fix it. So it’s a cycle where here I am.”

“Let’s see what I can do, okay? Maybe I can get a little more use out of it so you can wait for your so-called nice landlord to take care of it.”

“This is very much beneath your pay grade, Brooks,” I said as I gestured towards the small galley kitchen past my living room.

The place wasn’t too large. It had two bathrooms, thankfully, but the second bathroom was in the hall, not part of the room I had made my office.

The closets were practically non-existent, so I’d filled my love of clothes in wardrobes that were disguised as other pieces of furniture in the apartment.

It wasn’t much, but it was mine.

“Come on, I’ll help. It’s not a big deal.”

“And yet Ava pushed you out here for it. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing for my sister-in-law. She did that puppy dog face, and frankly, I needed to get out of their house before she tried to set me up on another date,” he grumbled.

I tripped over my feet, an odd sense of hurt slamming through me.

That didn’t make any sense. Why would I feel such betrayal at Ava for setting him up on dates? She didn’t know that I had accidentally fallen mildly into obsession with Brooks.

I had kept that secret from her, and she wanted everybody to be happy.

“She tries to set me up as well. And I’m not very good at it.”

My mouth went dry as he turned to study my face.

“I don’t let her set me up at all,” he whispered.

I didn’t know why relief was the first emotion I felt.

I was in so much trouble.

“Well, I won’t hover. I will be appreciative, but I don’t want to bother you. There’s not a lot of space in here.”

“Your apartment’s fine, Rory. Stop acting like you should be ashamed of it. You shouldn’t. It’s a good area.”

“I’m saving for a house. And I hate moving so I’ve just stayed in this apartment way past time,” I said honestly.

“I hate moving too, hence why I build things and try not to leave.”

“And I can do some home repairs, but not a lot. And that’s why being a homeowner scares me.”

“And your landlord should be doing more then.”

My phone buzzed again, and I looked down at the readout, not recognizing the number but it didn’t say spam, so maybe it was something important. I constantly had phone calls from publishers and other places that I worked with, including printers.

“Go ahead and take that. I’ve got this.”

His gaze caught mine again, and so I wrenched my attention away and answered.

“Hello.”

“Is this Rory Thompson?” a deep voice asked, and I frowned.

“This is. How can I help you?”

“Ms. Thompson, this is the Franklin Police Department, and I regret to?—”

I knew he was saying more words. Knew there was something important to be explained.

But my knees went out from beneath me, and then Brooks was there, holding me up as my world ended, and I told myself I couldn’t break. Not again.