Priceless (Forbidden Men 8)

I scowled. “Since, like, I don’t know...forever.”

“Bullshit,” he repeated, squinting at me as if trying to pry into my thoughts. “When we first met, you told me kissing and dating and all that was gross.”

“Oh my God.” I groaned. “I was thirteen.”

“So when did it change?” he pressed, watching me so closely I grew uncomfortable.

“I don’t know.” Focusing on my lap, I remembered the exact moment I’d wanted to experience the same intimacies everyone else did. “Eighteen, maybe.” The day I’d heard him doing things with Hope Deardon.

When he blew out a hard breath, I glanced up to find his eyes glazed with an odd kind of shock. I scowled. “Is it a problem for you if I actually want to be normal?”

There must’ve been enough offense in my voice to get my feelings across because he immediately lifted his hands and claimed, “No! Not at all. You always have my support. You know that.” He pulled me against him and hugged me close, guiding my head to his shoulder. “All right then. So you’re going to do this dating thing. Fine. But do me a favor first.”

“What?” I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of him. For as long as I lived, I knew I’d never smell anything better than the scent of Brandt.

“Don’t fall into bed with this Seth guy just because he’s the first person to ever ask you out, okay.”

“Oh my God!” I scowled, pushing against his chest so he could see it. “Who said anything about sex? I’m just going on one date. One. Date.”

He frowned back, grousing, “I’m just saying...I know you feel like you’re never going to get another shot at a relationship with anyone else, but...he asked you out, so more will. You’re amazing, Sarah, and someone was bound to realize it sooner or later.” After brushing some hair off my face, he leaned in and sniffed my temple.

I shuddered from the love and peace his words wrought, and commanded myself to feel no depression whatsoever just because he only saw me as a friend. He was the best friend I’d ever had or ever could have, and I was honored to be just that. Especially when he cupped my face, looked into my eyes, and added, “This right here—every single piece of you—is very precious cargo to me. If anyone mistreated it, I’d lose my shit. You’re not just my best friend, you’re my sanity. You’re priceless, Sarah.”

Closing my eyes, I leaned in and pressed my forehead to the center of his chest. “Stop. You’re making me feel like crap for not telling you about this sooner.”

“Well, you should. I know I can be overbearingly protective, but I always want you to be happy. And if dating this douche makes you happy, then...okay. When are you going out with him?”

“If you insist on calling him a douche, I’m not telling you.”

Grasping my chin, he lifted my face until our gazes met. Then he arched an eyebrow and tried to look all fatherly. “Sarah.”

I laughed in his face and shoved at his chest, because I couldn’t help but love him even when he irritated me. But honestly, I wasn’t going to tell him anything about my date. “You’re so annoying. I assume you’re staying the rest of the night.”

There. A subject change ought to get his mind off my love life—though I still couldn’t believe I might actually have one.

“Hell, yes, I’m staying the rest of the night. Who knows how much longer we have before your boyfriend gets all jealous and forbids me to visit or even be your friend anymore.”

I rolled my eyes. “As if that would ever happen.” Crawling off my bed and into my wheelchair, I grabbed my nightshirt and shorts off my dresser before rolling toward the door to change in the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

“It could happen,” Brandt called after me, and he sounded worried enough that I bit my lip after I closed the door behind me.

His worries weren’t completely unfounded, but I’d always feared it’d be the other way around, that Brandt would fall for a girl he liked more than me, and then he’d never come visit anymore, he’d stop cuddling with me at night, and eventually, our friendship would die out completely. But him being afraid that I would be the one to meet a guy I liked more than him just seemed ridiculous.

When I re-entered the room a few minutes later, Brandt’s shoulders fell when he saw me. “You already brushed your hair.”

We both knew I’d been able to improve my motor function enough to brush my own hair years ago, but Brandt liked messing with it so much, he usually brushed it for me on the nights he came over.

Tonight

, for my own peace of mind, I couldn’t let him. I always got the feels when he brushed my hair, and I needed to stay away from such intimacy.

That was why I’d accepted Seth’s date, as a way to resolve myself to the fact I would never be anything more to Brandt. I needed to stop pining and stalling my own life and try to start living it.

But Brandt’s puppy-dog eyes were telling me he feared the end of our friendship was already beginning just because I hadn’t let him brush my freaking hair. So I avoided eye contact as I turned off the light and wheeled to the bed. He already sat on the mattress under the covers and when I approached, he scooted over to give me room.

I paused to set the alarm earlier than usual so he’d have time to leave before my family woke. There was no reason for him to sneak in and out of my room now that we were twenty-two, but I think it’d just become a habit for him, so he kept doing it. I wasn’t complaining since I liked it too; it was our thing.

Besides, Brandt Gamble was an amazing cuddler. He was everything safe, and comfortable, and familiar. Once I crawled in beside him and landed on my side, facing away, he curled up behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist. With a happy sigh, I closed my eyes and sank into my pillow.