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

next to this man for the next few hours and not break down, or jump him and become a member of the mile-high club.

Before yesterday morning, Camden and I would be totally normal, chatting and joking with each other. Sitting beside him wouldn’t feel weird. I just need to go back to that. Channel the pre-one-night-stand Allyson and Camden and get over my embarrassment. So, I had sex with the guy. No big deal, right?

Turning to look at him, Camden holds his glass and tilts it my way. “Cheers.”

I wish I could be as cool as him. I take a chug of the whiskey, the amber liquid burning my insides as I hold back a cough.

“Take it slow…” Camden says with furrowed eyebrows.

I nod and let the glass rest on the small fold-down table so some of the ice can melt and water it down a bit to make it easier to drink.

“What are you doing in New York?” I ask, hoping regular conversation will break apart this awkwardness that’s settled over us.

“I’m helping with a new dating app system. I’m meeting with the owner and a buddy of mine who was hired for the job, to help them get a secure and effective system in place after they hit a wall in the creation of it.”

“That’s cool.” I take him in. Camden could talk about computers for hours and not realize the other person has no idea what he’s talking about. Once he starts, he gets lost and babbles on and on.

“How is life in Spain? Everything you thought it would be?” He lifts his eyebrows in genuine curiosity.

“It’s been great. The first year was a little rough in the beginning with all the differences in culture and just general mindset, but I’m really getting the hang of it. Besides, Madrid is a huge city, so I’ve got everything I need within reach.”

“That’s good to hear.” He nods pensively. “And the job is good?”

“Yeah, the new branch is basically up and running, and I’ve been responsible for the HR department. It’s been a lot of work, but it’s worth it.”

“How’s the language barrier? Have you made friends?” He shifts in his seat, taking a sip of his drink while he waits for my answer.

“I’ve been learning Spanish. They’ve offered classes in the office for the few of us Americans that came with the company, so that’s been great. As for friends, I’ve made a few, mostly colleagues. Fortunately, I already knew the co-workers who came from the Richmond office.”

“Awesome, I bet the nightlife is amazing.”

I nod with a smile. “It’s definitely nothing like we’re used to here in the States. Actually, the whole lifestyle is night and day. Noon cocktails, soccer games, ten PM dinners. It’s an experience.”

“Sounds like it.”

I smile and drink my scotch, relaxing for the first time in over twenty-four hours. This is how Camden and I used to be. We’d talk, joke around, catch up in each other’s lives—not this weirdness that’s settled between us. Surely, two friends can sleep together and not let it affect their relationship. We wouldn’t be the first or last to fall into bed together after a few drinks and remain friends.

Taking a healthy drink and a deep, calming breath, I risk telling Camden, “Listen, about yesterday or the night before, whatever,” I’m already screwing this up by rambling. “What happened,” I correct. “You know what I mean. Things don’t have to be awkward, right? We can forget about it and remain friends as usual. No need to make a mountain out of a molehill. We’re two consenting adults that scratched an itch.”

Camden coughs when I say that, clearing his throat. “Don’t worry about, Ally. You’re still the same pestering girl I used to make fun of.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” I say dryly.

“Let’s make a deal. One night won’t ruin years of friendship.” He holds his almost empty glass up. “Besides, as soon as you get back to your real life, you’ll find a Spaniard to sweep you off your feet.” I hear a hint of resentment in his tone, but I ignore it and blame the whiskey.

“Cheers to not letting it make things awkward.” I tap my glass with his and take a drink. Then I add, “I’m not in Spain permanently, so getting into a relationship would be doomed from the beginning.”

“You may want to scratch an itch,” Camden bites back his laughter, rinsing it away with his drink. I glare at him, but he looks at me with a cocky smile. “Or… You could call me,” he winks, and I fish out an ice cube from my glass and throw it at him.

“Hey!” He argues, reaching in his glass, but he realizes it’s empty. “Payback will be served.” He points a finger at me.

“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” I joke, tossing my head back in laughter. That’s when I feel something cold hit my throat.

I snap my head back and look at Camden, who whistles innocently. I look in my glass and find the other ice cube missing.

“Did you stick your hand in my drink?” I ask incredulously.

“I’d never. What do you take me as?”

“A pig,” I murmur, waving down a flight attendant as if I were in a restaurant or something. When she stands next to me, I order another drink.

“Add it to his tab,” I jut my thumb toward him.

Camden laughs at the same time as the flight attendant says, “Business class doesn’t have to pay for their drinks.”

“Humor me, and make him pay for it. Make it a triple, so it costs him more.”

The flight attendant grins and walks away, probably humoring me like I asked instead of actually charging Camden for my drink.

“No drink for me?” he asks with a pout.

“Order your own.” I lean back with a victorious smile. Yeah, it’s not a huge win, but at least I got the last say.

Camden mumbles something under his breath that sounds like, I’ll order you, but I ignore it, blaming my wild imagination