Never Marry Your Brother's Best Friend (Never Say Never, #1)

I shove him off. “No. Don’t do that.”


I stomp away, picking up the blanket and folding it carelessly. I lay it on the couch and then pick up my tablet, setting it on the table. That takes me to the coffee mug, and I carry it to the kitchen, pouring it out in the sink. Anything that’ll get me away from Carter. Except he follows me into the kitchen, trapping me and making me wish I’d chosen an apartment with a more open floor plan.

“Luna, we need to talk.” He sounds so sure that I’ll do what he wants, but those days are over.

I’ve done too much for Carter already, and the end result is that I’m mad at myself and mad at him. “You should go.” I put the mug into the dishwasher. “I have nothing to say.”

“That’s not true. You have so much to say, I can see the words jumbling together behind your eyes.”

Carter’s right, but telling him what I think won’t do either of us any good. I want to walk away and pretend this never happened so I can go back to my comfortable, predictable life. “It doesn’t matter. Just go.”

I try to squeeze past him, but Carter grips my upper arms in his hands. “It matters to me, Luna.”

Laughing bitterly, I jerk out of his grasp. “No, it doesn’t. If it did, you wouldn’t have dragged me into all this.”

His eyes go wide. “Dragged you? As soon as I mentioned Thomas’s collection, you were all aboard. Remember that?” I cross my arms over my chest, screaming at him with my eyes and hoping the lenses in my glasses amplify it like sunlight through a magnifying glass and he fries like an ant. He looks back at me, frustrated. “It’s easier to fully blame me, though, isn’t it? Guess you’ve decided I’m your all-too-convenient scapegoat.”

I put some space between us, but there’s nothing else I can do to keep my hands busy. I resort to fidgeting, wringing them together as I clarify, “I’m not blaming you. Or not only you. I was wrong too. I shouldn’t have gone along with your stupid plan so I could see the art collection. No matter how amazing it is, it was wrong.”

I’ve already given myself a hard time for that and don’t need Carter to repeat the conversation or talk me out of the self-flagellation.

He takes a deep breath, his blue eyes locked on me. I feel like he sees everything—my nerves, my anger, and even the desire I’m shoving down so deep I can deny it exists. “That’s not even why I’m here. I think we’re well beyond that, and we both know it. I want to talk about us.”

I laugh. “Us? There is no ‘us’.”

He jumps in immediately, stating, “But there is. We’re married . . . for real. My dad’s talking about annulments and prenups—”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” I bark. “Fine. Show me where to sign and I’ll put your mind at ease. I just want this whole thing to be over.” I wave my hands around, wishing I could wipe this whole thing away with just a signature. If only it were that easy. But I’ll never get Carter out of my heart, no matter how many times I sign us away.

“No!” Carter shouts.

The neighbor knocks on the wall and I yell, “Sorry!” Glaring at Carter, I snap, “This is done. Send me the paperwork and we can pretend this never happened. Should be easy for you. You’re good at pretending.” I know it’s a low blow, but I’m too mad to care.

I don’t blink, but I don’t see him move. Regardless, I’m suddenly pressed against the counter, immoveable in Carter’s grip, with him in my face. “This is not done. It’ll never be done.”

“What?”

I don’t get to finish my question because Carter kisses me. His touch is powerful, his lips firm and his tongue demanding entry. I squirm, trying to get away, but he moans, and I’d swear it sounds like my name, but that doesn’t make sense. This whole thing makes no sense.

He determinedly dances me down the hall, his unyielding mouth on mine the whole way. “It’s real,” he murmurs, laying a line of kisses along my jaw to my ear. “I don’t know when, and I don’t fucking care. But this. Is. Real.”

“No, it’s not,” I argue, but unconsciously, I tilt my head to give him better access.

He bites the tendon in my neck sharply, not enough to hurt but to get my attention, and I gasp. “You like that, don’t you?”

I shake my head despite the heat pooling at my center. I feel Carter’s chuckle more than hear it, the vibration making my heart race.

“Yes, you do. If I touch you right now, you’ll be soaked for me, won’t you?”

My body’s response to him is nothing more than a biological response. How many times have I told myself that to keep my heart protected? But I know . . . it’s not true. But just because my heart and my body are stupid doesn’t mean I have to be, and their betrayal only makes me angrier. “Let me go, Carter,” I command.

He smirks and releases me, except I didn’t realize that he’d stepped me into my room, right up to the edge of my bed, and when he lets go, I fall back to the soft surface. I make a noise of surprise and scowl at him accusingly.

He steps between my legs and leans over me, his fingertips denting the mattress. At first, I lean back, trying to stay away from him, but when I see a teasing glint in his eyes, I freeze, stubbornly holding my ground. I expect him to stop too, but he doesn’t. He covers my mouth with his again.

I stay still, but after a moment, I can’t fight it. I kiss him back, demanding more. “I hate you,” I growl into the kiss and then nip his lip with my teeth, knowing it’s too hard but wanting to hurt him. “I hate you.”

Unfazed, he shrugs. “I love you,” Carter says as his hands cup my breasts. I laugh at the absurdity of that, and he pinches my nipples as punishment. Even through my shirt, the pain is sharp and . . . wonderful. I arch into his hands and he does it again. “I love you.”

“You don’t.” I don’t know why he’s saying he loves me when there’s no way it’s true. Has he forgotten the truth of this whole situation? It’s all for his deal.

We don’t even like each other.

Well, I do like what he does to my body. The way he’s sucking my nipples. He’s pushed me back to the bed, pulled my shirt off, and is licking a long line along my cleavage as he holds my breasts together, and I definitely like that.

But I hate him . . . why was that again?

Oh, yeah, the lies. And when I told the truth . . .

“You left me.”

“You left me first. Blew up my whole fucking world with that mouth of yours and then called Zack to come get you.” He looms over me, pinning me in my place with his hand twisted up in my hair and a stony stare that reaches into my soul. “You left me first.”

I try to shake my head, but it pulls my hair and I wince. Carter doesn’t let go. Instead, he places his other hand around my neck and gets nose to nose with me as he squeezes. “I might’ve gotten us into this, but you made me fall in love with you, and now there’s no going back, Luna. You’re my wife, and that’s fucking real.”