Chasing Daniel Page 3

  I’m sure people have questioned my brother’s sexuality once or twice, but Aiden’s so girl-crazy those doubts don’t stay for long.

  I hope he’s okay.

  “Come on in,” Danny says as he leads me to the wooden door and opens it. The interior of the condo is as simple as the outside. Silver, black and red reign in the living room that is outfitted with plush couches and an enormous television screen.

  Danny flits around, picking up discarded clothes from the floor and stacking books and files behind the sofa.

  Watching him all flustered on my account is way too enjoyable. I reach out to touch his shoulder, not to flirt but to calm him. “Danny, relax. I lived with Aiden for eighteen years, remember? I know how he keeps his space.”

  “Yeah.” He rakes a hand through his hair and the spikes lose all their rigidity, falling over his head in silky strands. “Uh… you want water? Something to snack on?”

  I pull at the itchy sleeves of my dress. Winnie talked me into wearing it, convincing me that the lace that barely covers my chest was a sexier alternative to the shirt and jeans I wanted to wear.

  Never again. I’ve been scratching my arms all night.

  “Could I have a T-shirt or something?” I pull at the collar of my dress, wishing I could just tear it off.

  Maybe that would get Danny to notice me.

  I almost laugh. He’s a hot guy with money and status. Danny has no shortage of women trying to undress in front of and with him.

  Heck, Winnie is one of those people.

  I’ll try my best to behave, but who knows what might happen at the end of the night?

  I’m in a house alone with Daniel Kwan.

  Anything is possible.

  4 Danny

  “Could I have a T-shirt or something?” Gwen asks. And suddenly, I’m looking at her again. But not in a brotherly way.

  Gwen’s light brown skin is smooth. Flawless. Sharp, brown eyes collapse into slits when she grins too hard, hinting at Asian blood somewhere in her ancestry. And that dress. Black, tight, and short. Way too short now that we’re standing in my well-lit living room.

  Images flash in my mind. Some with the dress on. Others with that dress off.

  A desperate prayer shoots from my lips. I struggle to drag my mind out of the gutter.

  She’s Aiden’s sister.

  Damn.

  I move my gaze to the ground before I do something stupid. Like pull her to me. Like press a kiss to that pretty mouth. Like… other stuff.

  “Danny?”

  “Aiden. Aiden should have T-shirts in his room.”

  No way am I giving Gwen Ferguson anything of mine to wear. Right now I’m struggling with an attraction that’s purely physical. Seeing her in my hoodie might expose deeper emotions that I can’t deal with.

  I lead her down the hall to Aiden’s room and yank on the doorknob. It doesn’t budge.

  “Looks like it’s locked,” Gwen says.

  I narrow my eyes. “Thanks for stating the obvious.”

  “Do you have a key?” Gwen leans against the wall, ignoring my sarcasm. “Mom used to keep a spare so we could get in when he wasn’t home.”

  “Nope.” I shrug. “I didn’t think I needed one.”

  “Okay.” She blinks long, black lashes. “So… where’s your room?”

  My throat goes dry. “My room?”

  “Is it this one?” She barges straight into the room across the hall without waiting for an answer.

  I stop myself at the door. The sight of Gwen Ferguson in my bedroom is a little too tempting. My values are ingrained in me, but I’m no saint. My desire for Gwen has skyrocketed.

  I grab onto the top of the doorway and dig in for dear life.

  Gwen’s small feet patter against the floor as her gaze sweeps my room. I wonder what she’s thinking. It’s a pretty simple setup—a bed, a nightstand with a lamp, a dresser, and small closets.

  I gave Aiden the room with the bigger closet space. He needs it more since he owns about fifty pairs of sneakers.

  “That’s beautiful,” Gwen says, nodding to the photograph across from my bed. My dresser is littered with pictures of my family, but the wall is bare apart from a stunning frame in black and white.

  I nod to the thin arms and interlocking fingers filling the length of the photograph. “They’re my sister’s hands.”

  “The one that…” Gwen’s gaze skitters to the ground.

  “Yeah, the one that died.” Committed suicide.

  My jaw hardens at the thought.

  Gwen points to the Chinese characters running down the sides. “What does it mean?”

  “It says: where there’s life, there’s hope.”

  A thoughtful look crosses her face. “It’s been five years. She would have been twenty-three, like me.”

  “Yeah.” My voice is hoarse. The last thing I want to do is burst out crying in front of Gwen. I still miss my sister. We were close.

  If only I’d known how hard things were getting for her. If only I’d…

  “What do you think about this?”

  I glance up. Gwen is standing in front of my closet, holding a grey hoodie and a blue T-shirt in her hands. I take a minute to shift gears and try to figure out what she’s asking. “Huh?”

  “The T-shirt will be cooler, but I’ve always wanted to wear a guy’s hoodie.”

  “Why didn’t you just wear Aiden’s?”

  “Because he’s my brother.” She might as well have said, eww, gross.

  “Wear the hoodie if it’s what you always wanted.” I turn around and walk a few steps down the hall, expecting Gwen to follow me to the bathroom.

  “Thanks, Danny!” A door slams. I spin and realize Gwen is changing in my room.

  My imagination goes crazy. Again.

  Geez, I don’t remember being this hormonal when I was a teenager.

  Working at the store after school and on weekends kept me busy. In high school, I joined the boy’s volleyball team. My parents still expected me to top my class and work at the store. I didn’t have any extra time to obsess over girls.

  Looks like I’m hitting that stage late in life.

  To give my mind something else to focus on, I pad to the kitchen and pull out two tea bags. I’ve pretty much acclimated to Caribbean living. I talk and understand Creole, and I love soca and reggae music. Rice and beans is my obsession. But drinking tea is so ingrained in me that I can’t shake it.

  Gwen snorts when she enters the kitchen and sees the teakettle. “I should have known.”

  “You don’t like tea anymore?”

  “It tastes like dishwater.” She shivers. “I just drank it before because you liked it. And I thought it was cool seeing such a big guy handle a teapot.”

  “I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted.”

  “Try both.” She slaps the counter, creating a little soca rhythm. “I want a snack. What are you gonna make me?”

  “Is that an order?”

  “Danny, I’m hungry.” She pushes out her bottom lip and hooks an arm around her middle. “Please.”

  An unwitting smile breaks free. “Stop with the face and I’ll see what I can scrounge up.”

  Her brilliant smile has me clutching my heart. It’s beating way out of whack. What is wrong with me?

  Gwen tugs her mug close and takes a sip of the contents despite her earlier complaints. “You don’t know how much I missed eating your food. Remember when you and Aiden used to have sandwich competitions?”

  A picture of our younger selves racing against the clock to build the best sandwich fills my mind. The memory is a good one. “You used to be the judge. If I remember, you rarely picked Aiden. He said you were biased.”

  “Nope.” She lifts her chin, gearing up to argue with me. “Your sandwiches were full of flavor. Aiden’s just bitter.”

  I pull out two slices of wheat bread and scoop a bunch of condiments from the fridge. “He still complains about that, you know.”

&
nbsp; Gwen pulls the clip from her hair and lets the straight black strands fall over her shoulders. She massages her scalp. “Annoying my older brother gives me purpose.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Even when we were studying in Jamaica, Gwen managed to Skype with Aiden and torment him from hundreds of miles away.

  They can fight like cats and dogs, but Aiden adores Gwen and it’s the same way around. That’s why these weird sensations cropping up whenever Gwen so much as breathes has to stop.

  “Do you need help?” Gwen slips out of the bar stool around the counter where she was watching me.

  I can’t take my eyes off her. My hoodie hits her right at the thighs. The hem rides up with every step. She’s got toned legs, the kind with thick thighs and strong calves. She used to run track in high school. It shows.

  Gwen gathers her hair back and pulls a clip over it so it stays in a low ponytail, exposing her gorgeous face. She glides to the refrigerator, her movements as graceful as a ballerina. When she bends over to rummage inside, my gaze shoots to the ceiling.

  “It’s fine.” I notice spider webs glistening in the corners of the wall. Mom will flip if she drops by and sees that. I make a mental note to get it cleaned soon.

  “I want to help.” Gwen closes the fridge and joins me at the counter. She pushes the arms of her hoodie back and rinses the vegetables in the sink. Her hands still and she stares at me. “Danny? You okay?”

  “Yeah.” No. “Just hand those over. I’ll handle it.”

  Gwen returns to the other side of the counter, allowing me to breathe a little easier. She ducks her head and focuses on her phone. I finish up the sandwiches and slide one in front of her. She barely acknowledges it.

  I place my elbows on the counter, leaning toward her. “Did Aiden text back?”

  “It’s Winnie. She’s asking if I need her to come pick me up. Apparently, she’s super concerned about my safety.”

  “Does she think I’m a serial killer or something?” The thought amuses me. Winnie gives off a slightly unhinged vibe. How ironic that she’s the one who’s suspicious of me.

  “It’s just an excuse to get me away from you.” Gwen grabs her sandwich and tears a bite out of it like she’s picturing Winnie’s head.

  “If they’re stressing you out, why are you friends with them?”

  “Because they get me.” Gwen captures her bottom lip between her teeth. “You know I wasn’t a social butterfly growing up. People assumed I was a snob because I was quiet. Winnie and Britney reached out first, and we’ve been friends since then.”

  “So you’re together because of your history even if you’ve outgrown them now.”

  “Exactly.” She nods and then frowns. “Wait…”

  I reach over and tug her ponytail. She’s back to being the quiet, innocent kid I used to know. This… this I can work with.

  “Hey!” Gwen frowns. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Of course not.”

  Before she can argue more, the front door opens. We both straighten and swing around to face the foyer. There’s a pause. I imagine Aiden stopping at the door to shove his feet into slippers.

  No shoes in the house. It was the one rule I insisted on when we bought the place.

  “Dan?” Aiden yells. He sounds tired.

  “We’re in here!” Gwen grips the back of her chair. She turns and looks at me. “Suddenly, I feel nervous.”

  I say nothing, but the truth is I’m a little uneasy too.

  Aiden plods into the kitchen. He drags a hand over his short, black hair and stops a couple feet from us. “Hey, guys.”

  Gwen jumps out of her chair and stalks toward him. The siblings share the same cocoa-colored skin and brown eyes, but not much else. Aiden is taller and broader than his petite sister. He rubs his groomed moustache, eyes locked on the ground.

  “What’s going on, Aiden?” Gwen plants her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you want me to come home tonight? Did something happen to Mom and Dad?”

  Aiden sighs so hard the curtain over the kitchen window flutters. “Sit down for this, sis.”

  “I’m fine,” Gwen says, her jaw wound tight. “Tell me.”

  “I’ve been seeing this girl. Melissa.” Aiden lifts his head, but he’s still avoiding our gazes. “We met at The Platypus Park six months ago. It was a great party. Met lots of old friends. They had this aged rum that was—”

  “Stop stalling.” Gwen clenches her fingers. “You’re killing me, Aiden. Just spit it out.”

  “Melissa is pregnant.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  I stare my best friend in the face. Aiden’s smile is fake. Stress carves fine lines around his eyes. His shoulders are rigid like he’s preparing for a volleyball tournament.

  He’s telling the truth.

  Aiden squirms. “I’m not joking. We found out last week. Melissa wants to keep the baby. I told Mom and Dad tonight.”

  Gwen covers her mouth. “How are you still alive?”

  I picture Addison and Jeffery Ferguson—Aiden and Gwen’s parents. They’re a lot like mine. Super conservative. Traditional. Not the type to welcome a grandchild out of wedlock.

  “It… got rough.” Aiden flinches. He’s a devoted son. It must have sucked announcing that kind of news to his parents. He inhales deeply. “But what’s done is done. The baby’s coming and I have to get ready to be a father.”

  I study Aiden’s crestfallen expression and then look at Gwen. She’s got tears in her eyes.

  My best friend will be a father.

  All our lives are about to change.

  5 Gwen

  I have no idea when I fell asleep. The last thing I remember is staring at the ceiling, cursing my insomnia. Next thing I know, I’m fluttering my eyelashes at a bedroom that’s filled with sunlight.

  Instead of sitting up and greeting a new day, I curl into a ball and bury my nose in Danny’s hoodie. It smells like him. Like I’m wrapped in heaven.

  Last night was the first time I’d seen Danny in years. I thought I was over him.

  How delusional am I?

  Daniel Kwan’s grip on my heart has only gotten tighter since I bid him and my brother bon voyage four years ago.

  A knock on the door forces me to sit up. Thinking it could be Danny—though there’s a huge possibility it’s not—I wrench my ponytail out of my hair and redo my bun. A quick lick of my lips and a dig for eye boogers completes my emergency check.

  I clear my throat. “Come in.”

  Aiden pokes his head through the door. I’m disappointed, but there was a fifty percent chance it would be my brother anyway.

  Aiden walks to my bed and pulls up the accent chair in the corner. “Morning.”

  “Hey.” I smile at him. “How are you feeling?”

  He shrugs. “Like crap.”

  I laugh and study his face. People say they can’t see the resemblance since Aiden’s so tall and broad and I’m—well—I’m fun sized, but I think we look alike. We share the same facial symmetry—small eyes and thick lips.

  “I’m sorry you had to sleep in this dusty room instead of sleeping at home,” Aiden says.

  “It would have been uncomfortable anyway. I know how Mom gets when she’s angry.”

  “If Mom’s upset, everyone’s upset.” Aiden nods gravely.

  “You sound like Dad.”

  Aiden swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I get that I disappointed them. I hate that. But it’s not like this is the life I wanted.”

  “I know.”

  Tears glistening in his eyes, he rubs his temple. “What am I supposed to do, sis? I’m not ready to be a father.”

  I could tell Aiden he should have thought of that before having unprotected sex with his flavor of the month, but I’m sure Mom and Dad have already informed him. In loud, angry voices to boot.

  “Come on.” I tug on his sleeve. “You’re Aiden Ferguson. Star volleyball player. Cut-throat lawyer. Fatherhood is nothing.”

  “Are yo
u crazy? Fatherhood is much harder than all those things.”

  “I know.” I wince and drop my hands. “I was just trying to cheer you up.”

  His lips tug upwards. “Nice try.”

  “You’re welcome.” My hand twirls in the air as I give a little bow.

  Aiden pats my shoulder. “I missed you, sis. Six months away from home is way too long.”

  “I know. I missed you too.”

  “Why did you up and leave when you heard we were coming back from Jamaica? You could have at least waited to see me before you hopped on the plane.”

  Danny. I was running from Danny, but there’s no way I’m telling Aiden that. He’s still unaware of my pathetic crush, and I want to keep it that way.

  I chuckle nervously and change the subject. “I’m hungry. Danny made me a sandwich last night. It’s your turn.”

  A competitive gleam snaps to life in Aiden’s eyes. He hops out of the chair and stalks to the door. “Just you wait. I’ll make you a sandwich so spectacular it’ll knock your socks off.”

  My brother’s enthusiasm is the energy boost I need to hop out of bed.

  Aiden’s going to become a father. He’s earned the wrath of our parents. His life will never be the same.

  Getting over my crush on Danny should be easy in comparison.

  I hum a tune on my way to the bathroom, but stop short when I notice the door is closed. I’m just about to change course and head for the kitchen when the door opens and Danny walks out.

  In a towel.

  And nothing else.

  It’s like my feet are super-glued to the floor, and my eyes are super-glued to his abs. All five rows.

  Being that hot should be illegal.

  All hope of tossing my feelings for my brother’s best friend evaporates.

  “Morning,” Danny says. As if he’s not half-naked. As if the bathroom mist isn’t snaking around him like a fog machine. As if I’m not melting in a pool of awe.

  Since my vocal chords have seized, all I can do is nod in response.

  “Sleep well?” Danny asks.

  Feels like I’m still dreaming, buddy.