The Right Kind of Wrong: A Brother's Best Friend Romance by Fabiola Francisco (find a book to read TXT) 📕

I see disheveled brown hair looking down at a phone that has earbuds attached. This is not happening.

Pretending I don’t see Camden, I roll my bag toward the line starting to form for boarding. Except my traitorous eyes glance his way as I pass by him, and he must sense it because he looks up with raised eyebrows and a slow smile that I’m sure is the same one he gave me when I agreed to sleep with him. A shiver runs through me, and Camden’s smile grows, misreading my reaction.

“Your brother mentioned you might be on this flight.” He leans back, placing his hands behind his head in an attempt to be cool, except he accidentally knocks the back of the head of the person behind him, who turns with a glare. His grimace is almost comical as he drops his hands on his lap.

“Are you going to New York?” I scrunch up my nose in confusion.

“Yup, for work.” Camden sits taller, patting the seat next to him. “You’re welcome to sit.”

“Uh, I’m actually going to go stand in line… See when they’re boarding.” My voice does nothing to conceal my discomfort, and it all has to do with the reason that I can’t stop thinking about him. Camden probably reads right through me, but he nods without another word and lets me walk away.

He probably doesn’t want to deal with a woman who is clingy. Not that I’m clingy. I’d rather hide in a bathroom than seem clingy to a guy, which might be why my status is #singleAF. But Camden is one guy I don’t want to think I’m expecting more from him. I’m not. Whatsoever. Not even a repeat of my fuzzy memory to catalog for a lonely night.

I’ve got steamy romance novels for that.

I take a gulp of air as I stand in line, reading the time on the board over the counter. Fifteen minutes until we board. Surely, Camden and I will be seated rows apart.

- - - - -

As I stow my bag in the overhead compartment, a flight attendant informs me that my seat has been changed.

“Excuse me?” I arch an eyebrow, double-checking the seat on my boarding pass.

“Right this way.” She turns and guides me back toward the front of the plane, signaling to an empty aisle seat in business class.

“Uh, this must be—”

“No mistake, Ally.” My eyes dart toward Camden in the window seat. “Figured the least I could do is offer you a nicer seat.”

“Least you could do, my ass,” I mumble. I’ll never erase the memory of him if he’s this close to me, doing nice things.

“Stop grumbling under your breath and sit.” Camden rolls his eyes.

“Thanks,” I squeak and drop on my seat after stowing away my bag. “You didn’t have to,” I add as I buckle my seatbelt.

“The seat was empty, and it was no big deal. I fly enough that I’ve got miles saved for any upgrade.”

I nod, grabbing my e-reader from my purse and switching it to airplane mode before opening my current book.

“What are you reading?” Camden leans over to look at the screen. “Is that a naked guy?” His voice fills with humor.

“He’s not naked,” I argue. He’s just shirtless. I don’t have to defend my reading preferences to anyone.

“What’s it about?” He shifts to look at me.

With raised eyebrows, I assess him, waiting for the punchline. Instead, he genuinely waits to hear what I have to say.

“It’s about friends-with-benefits that have had a rough upbringing and are afraid of commitment.”

“Cool,” he says casually. “I’m more of a non-fiction reader.”

“Okay,” I say awkwardly, looking back at my e-reader and finding my spot.

As the airplane begins to move, I lean my head back on the headrest and close my eyes, taking deep, even breaths. I say a quick prayer, my heart beating fiercely in my chest.

“Are you afraid of flying?” Camden’s breath tickles my ear.

“No,” I respond through clenched teeth, keeping my eyes shut.

“You could’ve fooled me,” he chuckles, and I open one eye, glaring at him.

“Just the takeoff,” I add as a way of explanation. “Freaks me out.” I let the e-reader rest on my lap and hold the armrests as the plane rolls through the runway. Once I feel the tires lift from the ground, my hands grip the armrests until my skin stretches and the rubber from it marks my skin.

“It’s okay, Ally.” Camden’s soft voice sounds in my ear. I nod tightly, taking a deep breath. Blinking my eyes open, I peek out the window to see a ton of clouds passing through. Or the plane passing through the clouds. Whichever it is.

A jolt makes me forget about clouds and planes, and my hands are back on the armrests as if holding on with all my might would prevent me from falling if this thing goes down.

“Breathe,” Camden whispers, placing his hand over mine. The soft touch is a contrast to his teasing these last two days, comforting me instead of making fun of what happened between us.

“It’s just a little turbulence on the way up,” he says softly, and I nod, unclenching my jaw.

“Yeah.” My voice comes out hoarse as my body bounces along with the plane. “Damn it,” I murmur.

“There… You see.” Camden says after a few minutes, once the plane has righted itself and we’re soaring above the clouds. “No harm done. Well, except for the armrest you had a chokehold on.” His teasing words make me laugh as my body relaxes.

“I hate takeoff.”

“No shit. I never would’ve guessed,” he teases me, and I crack a smile.

When the flight attendant walks by, Camden calls for her and orders two scotches. I lift my eyebrows as I look at him, and he winks.

“It’s what you were drinking at the wedding. Figured you could use some liquid courage for the rest of the flight.”

I groan and nod. He’s right; I need liquid courage, but not because of the aircraft I’m on. I need the courage to sit