The Brother Bias, page 1
Copyright © 2021 by The Arrowed Heart
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design by The Arrowed Heart
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
The Brother Bias (Tees & Jeans)
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EPILOGUE ONE
EPILOGUE TWO
Don’t miss Saoirse’s story next in The Boss Bias!
THANKS FOR READING & DON’T FORGET TO RATE/REVIEW!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BOOKS BY THIS AUTHOR
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PROLOGUE
ELLA
Moaning downstairs breaks my concentration from reading. Andy, my older brother, invited a few friends over while he’s home for the summer, but this doesn’t fit the usual whooping and hollering from his buddies.
Curious, I turn the book face down on the nightstand before leaving my room to creep down the stairs and peek over the railing. The explanation for the sounds shocks me—a man and woman braced against the wall in the hallway below.
A pink sleeveless dress lies bunched around her waist, exposing a strapless bra to the man whose head is currently bent to her breasts. His own pants appear loose, threatening to drop lower while his hips piston in and out of the woman as he nails her to the wall, and the cause of the moaning becomes clear.
Familiar blonde waves of hair swish with the movement, and my stomach tightens at the realization that it’s Gavin, my brother’s best friend, though I don’t recognize the woman. According to Andy, Gavin wasn’t supposed to be home for another week, so his presence is a surprise. Another breathy gasp floats up to my position, reminding me I should leave, but I can’t tear my eyes away.
Why are they doing this here? Where’s Andy?
Questions swirl in my mind even as the show makes me hot and bothered—imagining myself as the mystery woman. I’ve had a crush on Gavin ever since Andy brought him home to play video games one afternoon years ago. Three years older and a football jock, I knew he was out of my league, but that didn't stop me from fantasizing about what it would be like to be his.
Back muscles flex with each hard thrust and grunted words burn the tips of my ears. “You like having me fuck you while our friends hang out in the basement, don’t you? You’re not even trying to keep quiet. Anyone could walk in on us, and that gets you off, doesn't it?”
His observation about being caught sends a skidder of guilt down my spine, but the arousal wetting my core is stronger, forcing me to stay until the girl’s muffled screams get more frequent, and I can tell that they're about to finish. Comprehending my time’s up, I sneak back up to my room—the thought of Gavin catching me spying unbearable.
I’ve hidden my crush well by avoiding being around whenever he came over. I’d hide in my room, afraid of becoming a stuttering, sweaty mess if I tried talking to him. Now, his visits are less frequent since he and Andy are juniors in college while I’m still a high school senior, but my feelings remain as strong as ever—refusing to abate just because of distance.
And now this. Endorphins flood my system at what I witnessed, and I know Gavin Cross won’t be leaving my mind or heart anytime soon.
Door shutting with a soft click, I turn the lock on the knob and reach a hand down my pants to feel just how aroused my voyeurism has made me. My eyes close as I picture the scene below with a slight modification: Gavin driving his hard cock inside me, filling me up, and it makes me rub my clit harder.
His words about being found out replay in my mind, and the rush of fear at someone seeing us together spikes my desire. Who knew such a thing would amplify my need instead of dulling it?
Too soon an orgasm crashes over me, but I don't make a sound—afraid somehow he’ll know what I’ve done. Weak legs shake as I slide to the carpet, and my eyes catch on the wrinkled Mathletes tee hanging over my hamper of dirty laundry.
Ragged breaths of pleasure seep away to be replaced by a sick knot that sits in my stomach.
Mathletes.
What the hell am I doing?
Tears well up behind my glasses before falling down my cheeks; Gavin will never want me like that. We live in two different worlds with me on Planet Nerd while he’s Mr. Popular. These fantasies I make up will only ever live in my head, and the pathetic nature of that truth cuts me deep.
Climbing to my feet, I unlock the door, observe the empty hallway, and scurry into the bathroom to clean up. My reflection in the mirror stares back sad and red-faced with mousy brown hair and eyes before I glance away, disgusted.
Gavin Cross will never be mine, and the sooner I accept that fact the better.
CHAPTER ONE
ELLA
TEN YEARS LATER
Sunlight beats down on my back as I wait for Saoirse and Abigail to arrive at the cafe after picking up our mobile orders. I thought sitting under one of the umbrellaed tables outside would be nice, but I’m starting to regret the decision as heat causes sweat to gather under my breasts and armpits. Air-conditioning would be preferable to this, even if it does come without a view of the park across the street.
“Hey, thanks for picking these up; I’m starving.” Saoirse plops into the metal chair across from me as Abigail follows behind in her quiet manner. The three of us met freshman year of college and gravitated towards each other to the point we gave ourselves a silly moniker: The Tees and Jeans Club. Curvy introverts more likely to spend the night studying than out partying, we took comfort in our casual attire—promising to never change who we were or try to be something we weren’t for attention.
Unwrapping my sandwich, I listen as Saoirse fills us in on the latest drama happening at work; she started managing the campus cafe at our alma mater after graduation. We all decided to stay in the small town—home to Smith College, although it wasn’t that difficult of a choice for me since it doubles as my hometown.
“It’s amazing what goes on behind the scenes there, and we had no idea as students.” Abigail pipes up after taking a drink of her green tea.
“Puts a new spin on my view of some of our professors; that’s for sure.”
“And what about your pen pal? I want to hear about him,” I say, eager to live vicariously through Saoirse since my life was devoid of attractive men pursuing me. Last Valentine’s Day, the three of us had signed up for the town’s matchmaking event, with little success except for Saoirse, who still exchanged letters with her mystery man.
“What’s to talk about? We write letters about our lives—nothing I haven’t already shared with you guys.” She shrugs, but her gaze avoids ours as she focuses on scraping the last of her salad from its plastic container. Glancing up, she pins me with a probing stare and changes the subject. “I heard Gavin’s coming home.”
“Yeah, Andy told me yesterday. Guess he’s going to take over the bar and grill once his parents retire.” I haven’t seen Gavin in years, not since his last visit home for Christmas. But that doesn’t stop the butterflies from rousing out of hibernation.
My lone boyfriend was a fellow accountant at the private firm I work for on Main Street, and we hadn’t lasted long. Poor Kyle—the reality of him couldn’t compare to my fantasies of Gavin, so I’d broken it off after a couple of months of dating three years ago. Thankfully, things weren’t so awkward after he’d moved on to our receptionist, Brooke.
“And the prodigal son returns...or rather the prodigal crush.” Abigail jokes.
“Is that even a thing?”
Abigail nods, mock seriousness playing about her eyes. “It is when you’ve harbored an unwavering love for this guy with no hope of it waning anytime soon.”
My foot taps against the concrete as I play with the edge of a napkin. “Love’s a bit strong, don’t you think? He’s really only a placeholder until the right guy comes along, then I’ll have a flesh and blood man and can let go.” The lie rolls off my tongue easily. Maybe if I say it enough times I’ll start to believe it.
But Saoirse calls me on it. “You had one of those; remember Kyle? You still couldn’t shake hot as fuck Gavin Cross, and I can’t say I blame you.” They’ve only met him in passing since I still made a point not to hang around too long in his presence the few times he returned to town. But those times were enough for them to understand my dilemma.
“I said the right guy. Clearly, Kyle wasn’t it—doesn’t mean someone besides Gavin isn’t around the corner.”
They share a look of doubt, and Abigail slumps in her seat. “Because there’s a plethora of unattached men around here.”
“And if there were, we’d still struggle to speak to them.”
This time we all exchange commiserating frowns. A decade later and our nerves remained a large part of our singlehood. The only reason Kyle and I had made it so far was because he a
“That’s the upside to letters,” Saoirse admits. “Writing along with the anonymity removes most of the barriers my fear erects when I’m chatting in-person with a guy.”
“If only we’d all been so lucky...” Abigail sighs wistfully, watching a family at the park begin feeding the ducks. It’s late summer, so most of the babies are grown, but it’s cute seeing all of their feathers flap in excitement for a snack.
An alarm goes off, and I snatch my phone off the table to turn it off before gathering my trash. “That’s my cue. I’ll see you guys later, okay?”
They wave farewell, starting to pack their own leftovers. Tossing the crumpled wrappers of my lunch away, I leave the cafe to walk down the sidewalk to Tippen and Associates, focusing on my afternoon tasks when the sign for Anthony’s Bar and Grill across the street diverts my attention. Soon, Gavin will take over the family restaurant and up my odds of seeing him everyday, with the building only a few doors down from my company’s.
Maybe it’s fate.
My ridiculous mind tries spinning a romantic tale of how we were meant to come together this way years later and grown—perhaps changed enough to garner more attention, at least on my part. He’s always drawn my eye, and no amount of time or distance has altered that fact. But I’m no longer just Andy’s little sister.
I’m a woman. A woman who’s carved out my own path of friends and employment with hobbies and interests that fill my time.
You’re forgetting to add that you’re still chubby with glasses, and those hobbies are reading fantasy romances or watching Lord of the Rings.
A sense of melancholy pervades my body as I hasten my pace, wishing I could outrun the disheartening truth because, no, I haven’t changed enough. I’m still the math nerd from high school. Hell, I turned it into a career as an accountant!
Forget about it. Forget about him.
No use dredging up insecurities now, and a snort of laughter eases some of my sadness as I reach the glass front of Tippen and Associates—best to save wallowing in self-pity for home not work. So, I shove all the unwanted feelings into a box and smile brightly at Brooke upon entering the office, determination lifting my chin.
CHAPTER TWO
GAVIN
The drive through Smithfield soothes my soul as old memories appear at every corner. It’s been over a decade since I’ve called this town my home, but I’m back permanently now. And it feels good.
Consulting for companies has provided a whirlwind life of travel and experience—something I’d yearned for after growing up in a small town. A flimsy plan of going pro in the NFL had kicked around my head after Ohio University offered me a football scholarship, but it didn’t take me long to realize there were guys way more dedicated and talented than I was.
So when my dad mentioned turning the family business over to me again, instead of shooting him down like always, I took stock of what he said—for the first time, appreciating the opportunity—and enrolled in business management classes. Of course, dreams of exploring the world ran rampant through me once I’d graduated, but I’ve finally reached the point where that hectic lifestyle isn’t for me anymore.
I need something more. Stability. Roots.
Pulling into the drive of a two-story colonial home, I lean against the headrest before going inside—eight hours of driving done. My parents wanted me to stay with them until I could officially move into my new apartment on the first, but thankfully my best friend, Andy, offered his childhood home as an alternative while his parents were on a cruise. Aunts, uncles, and cousins crowded my parents’ home in preparation for their retirement party next week; I loved them all but didn’t want to be surrounded by people twenty-four seven.
Humidity hits me in the face when I open the door, my shirt immediately clinging to sticky skin. Damn, I need a shower. First, the long drive and now this—something to wipe the grime away sounds perfect. Grabbing my duffel bag, I skip over the front porch stairs and knock on the door, waiting for Andy to answer. But it’s not him I see.
Instead, the door opens to reveal his little sister, Ella. Not so little anymore. Tight biker shorts hug her hips and a crop top reveals most of her stomach and the bottom of a sports bra. The unexpected sight leaves me speechless, and inappropriate heat builds in my belly.
It’s been awhile since I’ve seen Ella, but it’s always been in a group setting with Andy present. To be honest, I’m not even sure she likes me because she disappears pretty quickly whenever I’m around. But she can’t avoid me now as we stand facing each other in the doorway.
“Gavin. What are you doing here?” Her glasses magnify wide brown eyes, and I wonder where Andy is.
“I’m supposed to be staying here for a few weeks until my apartment’s ready. Didn’t Andy tell you?” Her blank expression tells me he didn’t, but she steps back, allowing me in. The chill of the air-conditioning is a welcome relief as the unchanged foyer of the Johnson home surrounds us.
“No, he didn’t.” A frustrated sigh purses her lips, and my gaze drops to the pretty sight. What the fuck? The trip must be making me loopy because this is Andy’s little sister—not a woman to get involved with. “Surprise, surprise. My absent-minded brother forgot to notify me that I wouldn’t be the only one staying here. Can’t imagine how it slipped his mind.”
I chuckle because that sounds like Andy; his mind’s always racing to the next thing, forgetting about little details such as notifying his sister of my arrival. “If it’s a problem, I’ll get a hotel room or something.”
“No, it’s fine. There’s a spare room you can use upstairs, but you can bet Andy’s going to hear from me.” We walk up the stairs, and I try to keep my eyes from watching her swaying ass. Goddamn, what is my problem?
“You and me both,” I mutter, though I won’t be able to voice my true issue with Andy’s lapse in communication. Louder, I ask, “So, why are you staying here? I thought you had your own place.”
“I do, but it’s flooded after the pipe behind the washer burst. It’s taking them a while to fix.”
“Looks like we’re stuck together, then.” A brief smile appears before Ella motions to the room behind her. Small but efficient, a full-sized bed and dresser occupy the space while a couple of framed seascapes decorate the walls. I haven’t spent a lot of time up here because Andy’s old room was located in the basement, but it’s nice.
“Looks like it.” She shrugs, making the hem of her tee rise higher to show a glimpse of the rounded curve of a breast before it disappears again. “I’ll let you get settled; let me know if you need anything.” Then she’s gone before I can thank her, and my theory that she dislikes me seems to hold true.
Probably for the best. Means I can’t act on any bad ideas.
CHAPTER THREE
ELLA
Oh my God.
I am going to kill Andy. I can't believe he didn't tell me that Gavin was coming to stay here at the same time as me. What am I going to do?
I manage to hold it together enough to get to my room and close it behind me before completely losing my shit, but this is only the first day. Pacing across the beige carpet, the mirror hanging over my door reflects my image and today’s clothing choices—eliciting an embarrassed groan.
Shorts outlining every hill and valley of my hips and thighs with a crop top that shows my stomach and the purple stretch marks. “How’s Gavin supposed to resist this?” I scoff.
If I had known he was coming... I stop that thought because if I knew he’d show up today I would have made sure not to be here. And would have resorted to sneaking around in my own home to guarantee I saw him on my own terms—perfectly dressed and mentally prepared. Instead, he catches me half-clothed in an outfit I’d never wear outside the four walls of this house, because I'm not that brave.
Granted, I’ve worn the biker shorts out when they’re covered by an oversized tee, but I’ve never risked everyone seeing so much of my exposed belly in the crop top. Hell, no one’s seen any part of me much exposed except for the one night I spent with Kyle—which was still in the dark and mostly under the covers.
