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

And that is so wrong. So not going to happen. Easton aside, Camden isn’t the guy that would ever really settle down. I’ve always imagined him as George Clooney, the forever bachelor (ignoring the fact that George settled down eventually). He has fun in his life, travels for work, gets what he wants with no real attachment holding him back. I mean, I get it to a certain extent, but that’s not what I want.

One day, I’d like to have a relationship that will lead to a home together, marriage, and maybe kids. I hope one day to have a permanent travel partner and coffee date. Every time I see couples around the city, traveling together, a sense of longing washes over me. I’ve never had a serious enough relationship where we were at the point of moving in together, but a girl can hope that a guy will come around one day and sweep her off her feet.

I sigh and walk into the café, taking my coffee to-go today and skipping the pastry. I have a feeling I’m going to be hitting the junk food aisle after work. I’d much rather savor what I eat than stuff my face in a rush because I’m running out of time.

The rest of the day drags with a few messages from my mom and one from Easton with a picture of his view in Mykonos. Greece has always been a honeymoon destination I would love to have. Seeing his pictures makes it even more romantic. Luckily, my brother and Faith were able to take a long honeymoon since Faith works at the school and has summers off and my brother was able to weasel himself a four-week holiday. I’d do the same. It’s a shame to fly to Europe for anything less than three weeks.

I hope one day I’ll find a love like that. Until then, I’ll be open to possibilities like Berkeley and Noel suggested.

chapter 5

Allyson

I never thought the weekend would get here. While working in Spain is totally different than the US—it doesn’t feel like the in and out hustle and bustle we’re used to back home—I am definitely ready for a break. This week was never-ending, not to mention I had to deal with two co-workers and personal differences. Being in human resources, I’m the lucky chick who’s designated as, usually, the office counselor, especially when it comes to starting an international office and merging two different cultures in one space.

Working in logistics in itself isn’t exactly exciting, but dealing with people’s personal challenges keeps me on my toes.

But, I’m finally home, lying on my couch with a bag of chips resting on my chest. Easy access for the lazy lover. Ha! Lazy lover. That sounds wrong. Like a person needs the other within reach because they’re too lazy to put some effort into it. Not the kind of lover I’d want. I’d want…

Ugh! Now I’m thinking about Camden again and his non-lazy ways.

Shaking out of my thoughts, I take a deep breath and shove two salty chips into my mouth, crunching away as I compete to listen to the television. Reruns of an old American crime show I had never seen before moving here plays in the background. Since living here, I’ve discovered so many older shows I hadn’t heard of. Spaniards seem to love all things drama, murders, and drugs it seems. Thankfully, I don’t have a weak stomach, and my mind’s a little twisted, too, or I’d hate the entertainment options here.

I hear the buzz of my apartment intercom and sit up, catching the bag of chips before it spills on the floor, and look around my apartment in confusion. I’m sure as hell not expecting anyone, which means it could be a mistake or some mass-murderer checking to see if there’s a vulnerable person in their apartment.

Okay, maybe I should quit it on the crime shows.

I stand wearily and make my way to the speaker by my door, thankful they can’t come in unless someone buzzes them.

“Si?” I speak into the system.

I hear whispering on the other side along with a giggle, but no one answers. Probably some punk kids trying to prank people.

As I’m walking away, it sounds again. “Si,” I repeat, wondering who is downstairs and more irritated this time when I don’t get an immediate response.

“Oh, someone is pissy,” I hear a familiar voice say on a chuckle.

My eyes pop open, and my mouth drops. I press the button and speak into the system, “Is that you?” I can’t believe it. I buzz open the door to the building as a huge smile fills my face.

Opening the door, I wait right outside of it to see if my imagination is playing tricks on me. When the elevator opens with a ding, I crane my head in the hallway to see Easton and Faith walking down the hall.

I swallow back tears and rush to them, hugging my brother and then my sister-in-law. “What are you doing here? Oh, my goodness! This is the best surprise ever,” I’m talking a mile a minute, tears welling in my eyes. The last thing I expected was for them to come to Spain.

Easton chuckles, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as I lead them toward my apartment.

“We wanted to surprise you, which I guess we did. Faith thought you were on to us because I posted an airport picture on Instagram, but I guess you didn’t realize it.”

“No, I didn’t catch on at all. How long are you here?”

“Just four days, then we had back to Everton,” Faith says with a smile.

“Oh, my God. I can’t get over it. You’re really here!” I jump up and down, holding their hands. “My apartment’s a mess. It’s been a long week. I’m apologizing now,” I rush them in, closing the door behind me.

“This is really nice.” Faith looks around. “It’s so airy.”

I nod. “Yeah, I got