DEAR BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND: A Curvy Girl Romance (SINCERELY YOURS Book 4) Read online

  DEAR BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND

  SINCERELY YOURS SERIES

  LANA DASH

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Also By Lana Dash

  About the Author

  DEAR BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 by LANA DASH

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author/publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  1

  CASSIDY

  A year of planning a destination wedding, and it's down to the last couple of days before we all fly out to Hawaii. I have to leave earlier than most of the guests because I’m the maid of honor in my brother Hayden's soon-to-be nuptials. His fiancée, Jodie, had a bit of a falling out with her original maid of honor two months ago, and I got promoted.

  Lucky me.

  I’m walking out of Alberto’s with a hot and fresh pepperoni pizza, ready to spend a well-deserved Friday night off with my best friends—Maren, Willa, and Lucy. I’ve spent all of my free time this week working out all the last-minute wedding details before I fly out on Monday. Tonight is supposed to be my time, but that doesn’t stop my phone from ringing in my purse as I get in the car. I don’t need to look at the screen to know who it is.

  "It's my night off, Hayden," I say by way of greeting.

  "I know, and I'm sorry to be calling again, but Jodie asked me to call you about your bridesmaid's dress."

  “What about it?”

  “Did you pick it up yet?”

  “Was I supposed to do that today?” I feign confusion in my voice.

  "Please tell me you're kidding right now. I don't think Jodie can handle any more drama in the maid of honor department."

  I sigh. “Of course, I picked it up this afternoon. And before you ask—yes, I did a final fitting in the shop before I left per Jodie’s instructions.”

  “Thank you,” Hayden breathes out a sigh of relief. There is a shuffling sound, and then he yells, “She picked it up this afternoon after her final fitting.”

  There is a muffled response from Jodie.

  "Is that it? Because I have somewhere, I need to be," I say, pulling out of the parking lot and heading towards Maren and Willa’s apartment.

  "One last thing, and I promise no more calls tonight," Hayden assures me. “You, me, and Jodie will be flying out early on Monday, but Dylan won’t be arriving until Tuesday.”

  Dylan is Hayden's best friend and best man at the wedding. He’s also the guy I’ve been in love with since I was a freshman, and he was a senior in high school. Dylan’s dad left when he was young, and his mom had to work two jobs, leaving Dylan on his own a lot. When my parents found out, they insisted he spend more time at our house, so he wasn't alone. And so began my unrequited love for my brother’s best friend.

  “Will Jasmine be coming to the wedding too?” I ask, trying to sound casual but feeling anything calm inside.

  “They broke up a while back,” Hayden says like this is common knowledge. Maybe to him, it is, but I can say without a doubt that if I had heard that Dylan and Jasmine broke up, I wouldn’t have forgotten that information. “He’s got to finish a project due on Monday, which is why he can’t fly with us.”

  "Okay, well, as long as he gets there early to help with the final arrangements."

  “Cassidy, I know that you’ve taken on way more responsibility than you should have for this wedding,” Hayden says. “But I just want to let you know that Jodie and I appreciate all that you’ve done.”

  “Don’t get all mushy on me, big brother,” I tease.

  “Okay, that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” He chuckles. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  "Can't wait," I say before hanging up.

  I pull to a stop outside of the apartment and see Lucy standing near the door with her cell phone to her ear. From the look on her face, she doesn’t appear to be too happy with whoever she’s talking to. I bet if she gave me three guesses, I’d only need one—her mother.

  “Luce!” I call her name as she hangs up the phone. I run over to her and give her a one-armed hug, careful not to drop the pizza box in my hand. “You are a sight for sore eyes!”

  I’m trying to make sure that my tone is light. I know Lucy's expressions, and she isn't going to want to talk about whatever just happened on the phone. She'll tell me when she's ready.

  We head up to the apartment, and Willa opens the door to let us in.

  "I've been waiting all week for one of your margaritas," I say as Maren walks in with a pitcher full of the blended lime goodness.

  We all settle in for an evening of catching up with one another. It's getting harder and harder for us to find the same free time that we can all get together to hang out. Maren is a workaholic, but if you took one look at her hot billionaire boss, you'd understand why. Willa is so absorbed with her grad school classes, she hardly ever leaves the library to socialize. And Lucy is continuously at the beck and call of her mother. She barely has time to do anything.

  When Willa again brings up the topic of Maren needing to quit her job because of the ungodly number of hours she works, the room's tension increases.

  It’s always hard when the topic of money comes up in our little group because there is a fifty/fifty split down the middle. Willa and Lucy each grew up with silver spoons in their mouths. While Maren and I learned at a young age the value of earning our own money to buy the extra things we wanted. I hate whenever Maren and Willa fight, which happens more often since they live together.

  “Okay.” I hold up my arms between Maren and Willa. “Let’s all take a breath before this turns into a repeat of sophomore year when you two didn’t speak for a month because of Brandon Davidson.”

  “I’m sorry,” Maren says.

  Willa nods. “Me too.”

  “Good, we are all friends again. Let’s clink this out.” I hold up my glass.

  We all clink our glasses and take a long sip, enjoying the cold, heavenly lime drink.

  Maren picks up the pitcher of margarita and proceeds to top off each of our glasses.

  “What I want to know is why we are all here, staying in on a Friday night?” She points to the elephant sitting in the corner of the room. "I mean, I know why I don't have a life, but we are all smart, funny, beautiful women. We should have guys lining up down the block for us." She sits down next to me and glances over her shoulder. I follow her gaze out the window to the street below. "It's empty."

  Willa sets down her glass and tells us all about the hot British professor she’s been lusting after for months now. Lucy joins in talking that the bad boy that lives in her building. About how even though she’s painfully shy and hasn’t spoken a full sentence to him, she’s made up her mind that she wants to have his babies.

  I blurt out my crush on D
ylan. We’ve all known each other since college, so the three of them have all met Dylan. I never wanted to admit my feelings for him out loud because I thought that even though they are my best friends, they’d think I was way out of my league wanting him. Willa is the only one I told, but I swore her to secrecy, and judging by the surprised looks on Lucy and Maren’s faces, she never spilled the beans.

  Maren is the last to admit her crush on her boss. I knew there had to be something more than just the love of her job that kept her working there.

  “So, what are we saying here?” Maren says, standing up from the sofa and turning to look at each of us. “Are we all going to sit here every Friday night, lusting after our secret crushes until we are old spinsters?”

  “What are you suggesting?” I ask.

  “We’ve got to tell the guys in our lives how we feel so we can move on. We can’t keep holding onto a hope that they might one day wake up and see us differently. There are guys out there waiting for us.” She points out the window towards the city skyline. “And we are too busy hiding behind our unrequited love to go out and meet them.”

  “How are we supposed to tell them?” Lucy asks. “I can barely get the courage to speak complete sentences around him, let alone admit how I feel.”

  Maren looks unsure for a moment.

  "Here," she runs over and grabs a box of stationary off a shelf. "We will each write out a letter. We don't have to send them, but maybe, by putting down on paper how we feel, we can finally move on and meet someone new."

  “It’s not the craziest idea you’ve ever had,” Willa says.

  “Are you in, Lucy?” Maren asks.

  We all turn to look at her.

  She smiles. “Let’s do it.”

  I take the paper and pen that Maren offers me. How am I supposed to put into words nearly a lifetime of feelings for one person? I look around and see everyone else already writing something. I'm not sure I would have been able to put my feelings down if I thought for a moment that Dylan would actually read my letter. It's the freedom of knowing that he will never know, that I take a chance and say everything I wish I could tell him.

  2

  DYLAN

  The Monday morning presentation with the board took longer than we planned, leaving me only half the time I thought I had to finish packing and get to the airport on time. If I miss this flight, Hayden will kill me.

  He’s doing everything he can to help keep Jodie calm in the days leading up to the wedding. She did ninety percent of the planning, and after a massive blowout that nearly resulted in the wedding getting canceled, Hayden realized that he needed to step up his part in a big way. I don't want to be a reason to set off another argument. The happy couple is stressed enough as it is.

  With an offer of a substantial tip to my driver, he gets me to the airport in only twenty minutes. I'm able to get through security and to my gate before the door closes.

  I take the first seat I can find and settle in for a long flight. I’m grateful for the time so that I can work on my best man speech. I started jotting down some ideas of what I wanted to say last night. I reach down for my messenger bag from beneath the seat in front of me and pull out the yellow envelope that I made my notes on.

  I make a few more bullet points on it, mentioning how Hayden and I met in middle school and how his family practically took me in as another son to help out my mom when she’d have to work late at her second job. I add a few notes to mention some stories about the trouble we used to get into when we were younger. And of course, the way I saw Hayden meeting Jodie changed his life for the better.

  I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at what Hayden has with Jodie. I’ve dated casually for a few years now, but I’m ready to settle down myself—the only problem is I have to find the right person to want to spend my life with.

  My last girlfriend, Jasmine, started dropping proposal hints to me after only four months of dating. When I told her I wasn't ready, I realized that what I really meant was that I wasn't prepared to settle down with her. We hardly had anything in common, and I couldn't see myself spending the rest of my life with her. Eventually, I tried to be honest, but she didn't take the news well, and a lot of my stuff got thrown against the wall that day. Note to self, never break up with a woman in your house where she is more than happy to break your shit so that she can feel better.

  I push away the memory, and I flip over the yellow envelope I’ve been writing on. My name is written in cursive font on the front. I didn’t think anything of it at the time when I grabbed it to make my notes on it. I rip the edge of the envelope, careful not to tear on the part that I’ve made my speech notes. I pull out the letter inside.

  Dear Dylan,

  This is hard to write this to you, but I know it would be impossible to say aloud. There are only a handful of constants in my life, and you are one of them. I’ve known you practically my whole life. From the jokester Dylan to protector Dylan to listener Dylan, I’ve seen the many sides of you, and I've loved them all. It’s hard to imagine not having you there when I need you, but that is why I’m writing this letter to you. I’ve held on so tightly to the love I’ve felt for you when I was younger that I know that I haven’t allowed myself to get serious with anyone else. Your face is always the one I see when I close my eyes and imagine my life ten, twenty, or fifty years in the future. But I know that you don't see me as anything more than Hayden's little sister when you look at me. It breaks my heart, but I’ve finally resigned myself to the minimal role I will get to play in your life story. This letter will never reach you, but I’m hoping that now that I’m finally writing these words down, I can face the reality of my situation and move on for good. Whoever you find to settle down with, I hope she knows how lucky she is to have you—I know I would.

  Sincerely Yours,

  Cassidy

  It’s like there is a sound of a record player scratching in my head. Or the sound of brakes squealing, followed by the crunch of metal. I’m so taken aback by this letter from Cassidy that I pinch my arm to make sure that I’m not dreaming.

  “Ouch,” I mumble to myself.

  The older woman in the seat next to me looks over from her gossip magazine.

  “Are you alright, dear?”

  I look over at her, unsure how to answer it. Instead, I hand her the letter. Maybe she can make sense of this. She takes the letter and reads it over.

  "Oh, dear." She looks back up at me. "I think we might need to get you a drink."

  I nod once as she lifts her hand to call over the flight attendant.

  3

  DYLAN

  I talk everything over with my seatmate, Margaret. She helps me realize that every excuse in my head on why nothing can happen between Cassidy and me has nothing to do with my lack of interest but more with not wanting to mess with the relationships I have with her family. Hayden is my best friend, and I can't imagine he'd be too thrilled about Cassidy and me together. Hayden and Cassidy’s parents are like a second mom and dad to me. I couldn’t lose that relationship after all that they’ve done for me.

  I pull out my phone and scroll through some of the pictures that I took at the engagement party a few months back. I skip one after another, with only one face I want to see. I stop on a picture of Cassidy talking with Eddie, an old friend of mine and Hayden’s from college. I’m not sure why I took the picture at the time, but the jealously I suddenly feel when I look at it surprises me.

  Eddie is making a funny face, undoubtedly in the middle of some crazy story about some misadventure he’s had over the years. Cassidy is laughing with her hand on his arm. That simple but intimate touch is more than anything I’ve shared with her in years. The realization of this fact shocks me. I never touch Cassidy—not a handshake, or high five, or a hug. Have I been subconsciously keeping her at arm's length to protect myself from realizing my feelings for her?

  I use my thumb and forefinger to zoom in on the photo, cropping Eddie out completely, so I can only se
e Cassidy. She’s probably the most beautiful woman I’ve never let myself notice until now. It’s like a forbidden filter has been over my eyes because there was too much to lose if I ever acted on what I felt. But right now, her letter has removed the filter, and I see her more clearly than ever.

  “Is that your young lady?” Margaret asks as she leans over to look closer at the screen on my cellphone.

  “She’s not mine,” I say. “Not yet, at least.”

  CASSIDY

  Dylan’s flight landed about an hour ago. Hayden already left to pick him up, leaving me with Jodie at the private hotel bungalow we are staying in. She had an incident earlier where the stress got to her. She found out that her bag carrying her veil and most of her makeup was put on the wrong flight and might not make it in time for the wedding. Let’s just say that Hayden is probably going to have to pay for the damage to the wall from where she threw the glass vase of flowers. I did what I could to calm her down, explaining that we can replace the makeup easily and that I’m sure there is a store on the island that has a veil similar to the one she originally had.

  “Thank you for staying with me,” Jodie says, not lifting the washcloth she has draped over her eyes. "I know I lost it back there, but I'm not sure I can take anymore bad news about this wedding I've spent so long planning."

  I know that weddings are super stressful, and it probably doesn’t help that she had a huge falling out with her maid of honor not so long ago. I know that it would way on me if I was about to get married and got in a fight with Lucy or Maren or Willa.

  “Don’t even worry about it,” I tell her. “Can I get you some aspirin or something for your headache?”