Made for You (The Best Mistake 2)

“Does Brynn know?” he asked finally, hating that his voice sounded like a nervous kid before asking someone to prom.

“No,” Sophie said softly. “I think she’s still as convinced as everyone else that you hate her guts.”

He didn’t hate her guts. Not even close. Although sometimes he thought he should. The woman could be downright witchy, and was so rigid, she was one good tantrum away from exploding into a million pissy pieces.

But she could also be sweet. Not to him, of course…never to him. But he’d spent enough time watching her over the years to know that she helped old ladies take grocery bags out to their cars, and went on a fishing trip with her dad every summer even though she hated fishing. He’d also rummaged through her mail under the guise of pissing her off, and knew that she contributed to about nine hundred different charities.

She was also funny as hell, assuming one liked the prickly, caustic type of humor. He did.

None of that explained why he was completely, irrevocably wrapped up in her, but he was. Had always been.

He’d been sixteen, and he’d simply known. Known that she was the one. Even when she was busy tearing his heart out.

Will sighed and resigned himself to coming clean with Sophie. “How did you find out?”

He’d been so fucking careful. Then again, moving next door to the woman perhaps wasn’t the height of stealth.

Sophie fiddled with the case of Psycho. “I wish I could say that as your closest friend, I’ve known all along. But the truth is, I didn’t really have a clue until her birthday party the other night. When James handed Brynn that jewelry box, and we all thought…Well, I saw your face.”

Will winced. “Was it that obvious?”

She shrugged. “To others you probably just looked disgusted. But as someone who knows you best, you looked…devastated.”

“I wasn’t devastated,” he said. “Quit making a frigging soap opera out of this.”

“Use whatever man-phrase makes you comfortable,” Sophie said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “The point is, I saw you. It’s why I called you immediately after you headed out. To let you know it wasn’t what you thought.”

“Thanks for that,” he said quietly.

Those moments after he’d walked out of the party thinking he’d lost Brynn for good had been some of the worst of his life. He’d seen Brynn in a white dress walking toward someone who was not him, and it had clawed at his chest like a heart attack.

Sophie’s phone call had come just in time to stop him from getting good and thoroughly drunk.

“Although, to be honest,” Sophie was rambling, “I feel like an idiot for not seeing it before. True love hiding behind the squabbling couple is like the oldest romantic-comedy trope there is.”

“Except in the chick flicks, it’s generally mutual,” he said, leaning down to pick up the shattered picture frame.

“True,” she said, coming over to help grab the bigger pieces of shattered glass.

“But you have a plan, right? That’s why you moved back? That’s why you moved here?”

Will grunted. It was bad enough to know his secret was no longer a secret. He really wasn’t in the mood to have a pow-wow about it, even with Sophie. Especially with Sophie. She was Brynn’s sister, and as much as he trusted her…

“Soph, you won’t say anything, right? To Brynn? Or even to Gray?”

She hedged slightly. Secrets had never really been her forte.

“Please, Sophie. Just give me a little time.”

“But I could help! I could play matchmaker, but be supersmooth about it.”

Will gave her a look. She was about as subtle as a battering ram, which she knew full well. Smooth was absolutely not in her repertoire.

“Fine,” she muttered. “I’ll keep out of it. For now. But Will…” She stood, gingerly holding shards of glass with the tips of her finger. “You know that I’m rooting for you, but if she doesn’t feel the same way…”

“She’s a big girl, Soph,” Will said, trying to lighten the mood.

“I know,” she said, with a lift of her shoulder. “But she’s fragile under all those matching outfits, ya know?”