The Best of Us (Love in Isolation 2)

Chapter EightRyanThe moment she speaks, I stiffen and contemplate asking her what she meant. Considering how awkward things got downstairs when she mentioned our sleeping situation, I’m sure I know what she was referring to. It’s no secret there’s an attraction between us, but getting involved with Kendall Montgomery would be equally good and bad.

Good because there’s no denying she’s gorgeous. I’d devour and have her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Bad because she’s my sister’s best friend, and if either of us caught feelings, it’d only end badly. I’m not in the position to have a relationship or give her the attention she deserves. Not to mention, I can’t think of anything we have in common besides being from wealthy families.

Kendall couldn’t be happy with someone who’d only give her a few hours of themselves a week. She’s an all or nothing kind of woman. It’s why most health care professionals end up marrying people in the same industry. We understand the dedication, long shifts, and exhaustion after working a double.

However, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it a time or two. Especially now when she’s dropping obvious hints, but I can’t allow myself to go there. Not when it could end with her getting hurt.

After she brought up fucking for fun last night combined with how we woke up this morning, I needed space. The best I could do was walk away so I didn’t stumble over my words. The truth is I do remember moving to lay closer to her in the middle of the night. As I fell asleep, I must’ve snuggled closer to feel her warmth, then held on.

I haven’t been that comfortable sleeping with someone in years.

It was hard not to move closer to her when she stirred awake. I wondered if she’d reciprocate and lean into me, but it was like she couldn’t get away fast enough. Mixed feelings swirled as we went on about our morning, but then the moment she brought it up, I denied it.

Knowing I need to grab the decorations, I grasp my flashlight and move toward the basement. She waits by the door as I go down the steps. Kendall reminds me she brought some décor but wants all the extras that are stored down here.

“You might have to put your big girl panties on and help me with all of this,” I tell her after dragging the heavy ass storage containers to the bottom of the staircase. “Everything is heavy as fuck and I don’t want to fall down the steps today.”

“You really think me helping is going to do anything?”

“Valid point.” I chuckle at the way she roasts herself. Kendall might be good at charity events and serving food, but she’s not one to get her hands dirty and lift shit.

After a solid five minutes of me trying to pull the plastic container up the steps, I finally make it to the top, and Kendall helps me drag it across the floor until we’re in the living room. I take a few more trips and bring every decoration we have to the living room. I’m sweating my ass off, and my muscles burn from lifting so much.

“See? Easy peasy!” She smirks once I bring the last of it.

“Don’t push it, Diva.”

“Ha! You’re the diva…” she reminds me.

“I got the decorations up here, now you get to put up the tree.”

“What? No way! I’m five and a half feet, there’s no way I could.”

“Are you serious?” I fold my arms over my chest.

“I’ll hold the flashlight for you.” She flashes a cheeky grin.

“Don’t work too hard,” I mutter and start removing the branches from the oversized bag I brought up here a few days ago. Almost seems like an eternity has passed since then.

“Stop complaining, I’ll do the ornaments,” she tells me, then continues, “after you bring in the ladder.”

“The ladder?”

“Yeah, this tree is gigantic, and I can’t reach up ten feet to hang them!”

“Good lord. Is all this really necessary?” I scowl, watching her sort through the ornaments.

“I told you, you’re here to do the heavy lifting. Now be a man and…lift. Remember, this is for Eli and Cami, so suck it up, Diva!”

I want to remind her the honeymooners will probably hardly ever leave their bedroom, but I refuse to put that image in either of our heads at the moment.

“In that case, if we’re being stereotypical, get your fine ass in the kitchen and make me some lunch,” I bark out teasingly.

“Fine ass?” She perks a brow at me. “You’ve been lookin’?”

Fuck, that was an inappropriate slip. “Shut up. Be helpful or go away.”

She chuckles and luckily drops it. “Fine, you do the branches, and I’ll fan them out so we can insert them in the trunk thingy.”

“Alright, boss.” I flash her a smirk, and she rolls her eyes.