The Right Kind of Wrong: A Brother's Best Friend Romance by Fabiola Francisco (open ebook .TXT) 📗

of us. I cringe and grab the towel from the hook next to the shower and wrap it around my body, water droplets from my hair soaking my shoulders and back.

Okay, Allyson, get it together.

Last night was…emotional. Watching Easton get married to his high school sweetheart after being apart for years was great. Having attended his wedding as a single gal was not. That’s probably why I leaned on Camden. It was easy to do so.

Yeah, that’s totally why. I nod my head, looking at myself in the mirror and gripping the edge of the gray and white granite that covers the top of the vanity. No one has to know about this. It was a mistake. A one-night stand. Scratching an itch.

And he sure as hell scratched it, with precise perfection.

I jolt when my phone pings with a message and step out of the bathroom to check who it is, hoping it isn’t someone asking me about my night with Camden.

Speaking of my mistake, the text is from him. Opening my messages, I groan when I see a picture of my panties on the screen with a message below.

Camden: You left these here… Unless they’re my souvenir

I roll my eyes and hold in my scream. I hope to all that’s mighty that I don’t regret this one mistake.

Getting dressed, I grab my purse and phone, lock my room, and rush to Camden’s, hurriedly knocking as I look around the narrow hallway.

“Yes?” He opens the door with a crooked smirk, his hand gripping the side of the door as he stands shirtless before me, smattering of hair on his chest.

I do my damnedest to keep my eyes on his face, not even thinking about looking at his chiseled abs or defined arms. Okay, clearly, I’m thinking about it, but I won’t do it.

“You know why I’m here,” I bite out, keeping my voice low.

“Already back for seconds?” His smile grows, cocky and confident.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I swear he’s out to torture me.

“No,” I hiss. Then, I turn my head to both sides and lean forward. “My underwear?” I whisper.

“Oh.” Camden pouts. “You mean, they weren’t a souvenir?” His eyebrows furrow and a pout claims his full lips in mock disappointment.

I take a deep breath and clench my jaw, counting to five before responding. “No, Camden, not every woman you fuck wants you to have a keepsake of your night together.” I surprise myself by the calm in my voice, the almost monotone way I reply.

Camden’s eyes briefly narrow before he’s back to his smiling self. “Well, I guess I’ll give them back to you.” He pulls my underwear from his jeans pocket and dangles them in front of me. My eyes widen, and I yank them from his hand, shoving them in my purse before someone walks down the hall and sees our exchange.

“Don’t tell anyone what happened,” I plead.

“Trust me, I’m the first person who wants to keep this a secret.” His tone switches from the lighthearted joking to a tight bite.

Taken aback by his words, I nod once and turn around to walk away. I need coffee, stat. Of course, Camden doesn’t want anyone to know. I’m not the type of woman he tends to associate with, and I bet he wants to keep it that way. Better for me, too.

Walking down to the main room of the bed and breakfast, I wave at Averly and head outside, inhaling the crisp morning air despite it being summer. It has been years since I’ve been back to my hometown of Everton. My family and I moved to Virginia when I was an early teen, and Virginia has always felt more like home. Not for my brother, though. Easton always loved Everton, and I knew he’d return here one day.

I walk down the road that wraps around the bed and breakfast, following the GPS on my phone to get to the local coffee shop, Cup-O-Joe. I look around my surroundings, taking in the mountains looming nearby and peaceful quiet. I finally begin to relax for the first time since I woke up in Camden’s bed, his warm body enveloping mine.

I can’t believe I had sex with him. I’ve known Camden since he was assigned as my brother’s roommate in college over ten years ago. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be waking up in bed with him. Not after a few drinks, and definitely not stone-cold sober. Not that I was totally sober last night—there was an open bar at the wedding after all—but I knew what I was doing. I was aware of the choices I made. Yet, I have no idea what part of going to his room made sense in my muddled mind. Thankfully, I did not share a room with my mom, or it would’ve been totally awkward and obvious that I did not sleep in my bed last night.

I sigh when I see the center of town come into view, and I turn off my navigation, strolling toward the store-lined street where the coffee shop is located. Coffee will help. It always does. Then, I can go back to pretending that Camden is nothing more than an acquaintance. Definitely not one of the few people I’ve slept with. And definitely not the only one-night-stand I’ve ever had.

The town is busy. Groups of people walk around, greeting each other and laughing. The camaraderie between the townspeople is felt all around. I remember being a part of this community, even if only for the first thirteen years of my life.

I greedily inhale the bitter scent of roasted coffee beans as I make my way to the line to order. The sweetness from pastries blends perfectly in the air, creating an aroma that makes my mouth water.

Once I order and grab my cup, adding a splash of creamer from the bar, I take a seat at an empty table and lean back, closing my eyes for a second. When I blink my