A Dose of Pretty Poison: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance (Pretty Poison Trilogy Book 1)

The sandpaper drags across the blank, smoothing it out and helping shape it into the surfboard I’ve always dreamed of. It’s a long process, building your own board, but it’s going to be so rewarding when I ride a wave with this baby.

It’ll be a little while before that happens, though. After I’m satisfied with the shape, it’ll be time to add the fiberglass and resin. I’m also planning on asking Mali to do the artwork for it. I’ve only seen a couple of her drawings, but Cam constantly raves about how talented she is.

I wanted to mention it last night, but I never got the chance. The only person who knows I’m building my own board is Cam. If the rest of the guys found out, they’d be on my ass about making each of them one, and I don’t have time for that shit.

Technically, I could have talked to her about it this morning…if I had stuck around. After going back inside last night, I didn’t have a chance in hell at falling asleep. All I could do was lie there and stare at the ceiling while thoughts of Laiken constantly reminded me that I fucked up, again.

As soon as the sun came up, I lied to a still half-asleep Cam and told him that I had to go to work. At least that way I didn’t have to see Laiken. It’s a dick move, I know, but how could I look at her after last night? I promised I wouldn’t touch her again, and then I shot that promise to hell by kissing her on the roof. Yeah, she wanted it to, but only because she doesn’t know any better.

If she knew how far out of my league she is, she wouldn’t give me a second glance.

Laiken Blanchard is in a category all on her own. Not only is she unfairly gorgeous, but she can insult you and have you apologizing for it later. A lethal mix of beauty and badass. The guy who ends up with her will be a lucky son of a bitch, but it won’t be me. Once she gets past this image of me that she has in her head, she’ll move on and end up marrying some rock star or billionaire.

But that doesn’t mean it won’t grind on my nerves.

I tug on my bottom lip mindlessly, still able to feel her there. It’s fucking torture. I wish I could blame last night on being drunk, but I was stone cold sober. The only reason I went out on the roof was to smoke a cigarette after I woke up to piss, and I should have left it at that. When I first heard her climb out of her skylight, I thought she was sneaking out again. It’s not like she can just walk out the front door at three in the morning. And honestly, with Mali asleep in her room, I wondered who she could be sneaking out for. But instead, she went up to the peak and laid there, gazing at the stars.

I should’ve pretended not to notice her—gone back inside and forced myself back to sleep—but when have I ever done the right thing when it comes to her lately? Just like last time, I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. And just like last time, I couldn’t help myself.

Now I don’t know where to go from here.

Taking a break, I leave the garage and head into the house in search of a drink. I take a beer from the fridge and crack it open. The ice-cold liquid is refreshing as it slides down my throat. I lean against the counter and use the bottom of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my forehead.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Devin questions accusingly.

My brows furrow. “Taking a break?”

“Not that, asshat,” she barks. “You kissed Laiken? You know how she feels about you. What the hell were you thinking?”

Well, fuck. “I wasn’t thinking,” I admit with a sigh. “It was late and we were on the roof, looking at the stars, and it just happened.”

“What roof?”

“Laiken’s roof.”

We stand completely still, both looking confused, until it clicks.

I cringe as I exhale. “You were talking about the party, weren’t you?”

Pursing her lips, she comes beside me and hops up onto the counter. “So, you’ve kissed her twice then.”

“Yeah.”

It’s not a lie. I have only kissed her twice. She just doesn’t know what else we’ve done, and I plan on keeping it that way. The less people that know, the better.

“So, are you into her or something?” Dev questions, lightly kicking her feet against the cabinet.

I drop my head. “It doesn’t matter. Cam would slit my throat just for looking at her that way.”

She chuckles. “Okay, one, that’s not an answer. And two, you don’t know that for sure. He could surprise you.”

“He could also tell me he’s changing his name to Edgar and becoming a Vegan Buddhist, but the chances of it happening are low.”

Rolling her eyes, she leans over to nudge me with her shoulder. “I’m serious. Would you kill him if he wanted to date me?”

Like a total hypocrite, my head whips toward my sister. “You better start fucking talking, and now.”

Her hands raise in defense. “Easy, Cujo. It was just a hypothetical question. And you answered it wrong, so forget I said anything.”

See? This is what I mean. I’m a douchebag. A hypocritical piece of shit that has no business being anywhere near her, let alone in her bed. If Cam ever finds out what we’ve done, I won’t blame him for tearing me limb from limb and using the pieces of my body as Halloween decor.

“You don’t even want to try talking to him about it?” Dev asks after a few minutes.

I look at her like she’s lost her mind. “Are you trying to be an only child?”

She chuckles. “No, but Laiken doesn’t deserve to be played with, so either man up or fuck off, because if you hurt her, I’ll be forced to punch you.”

Hopping down, she walks back to her room, but her words replay in my mind long after she’s gone.

My annoying little sister has a point—Laiken doesn’t deserve to be played with. She doesn’t deserve any of the shit I’ve been putting her through lately.

Like I said, she’s way out of my league.

THE SUN IS STARTING to set as I add the last little details to the shape of the board. A cool breeze is blowing in through the open garage door, but it doesn’t stop the sweat from dripping off my forehead. If I can manage to get Marc to keep the surf shop closed tomorrow, I may be able to get the resin on the one side by tomorrow night.

Looking up from the board, I see Cam’s Jeep pulling into the driveway. He hops out and slams the door, and my life starts to flash before my eyes.

“I have a bone to pick with you,” he says as he walks toward me.

Yep, this is it.

This is when I die.

It’s fine, I guess. Not exactly how I saw myself going, but I’ve lived a somewhat decent life. Wish I got to turn twenty-one, but it is what it is.

I put down the sanding block, so I don’t instinctively try to defend myself, and hold my head high. Whatever he’s about to do to me, I deserve it.

But when Cam gets close enough, all he does is hand me next week’s game schedule and a list of things we need to practice before then.

This is about hockey?Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Could’ve given me the heads up that you were going to skip practice,” he growls. “Coach made us all skate suicides. Said we haven’t been working hard enough lately. And your ass got to miss it.”

Oh, thank God.

I thought for sure I was a dead man standing.

“Shit, sorry,” I tell him. “Been working on this thing all day. I guess I just spaced out. Though, I’m not sorry I missed practice, because that sounds brutal.”

He flips me off. “Dick.”

I watch as he walks up to the board, inspecting it in a way only an experienced surfer would. He squats down to look at the subtle curve and runs his hand over it.

“This is going to come out so sick.”

A proud grin appears on my face. “I know. I’m excited about it. Pain in the ass, though.”

He grunts. “No shit. Why do you think I’ve never tried building my own?”

“Because you’re too busy refurbishing Mali’s dream car.”

“Oh, ouch,” he hisses. “If I knew I was going to get called out, I wouldn’t have come over. And besides, it’s just a coincidence that we both love that car.”

I give him a sarcastic look that tells him I don’t believe a word of it. “Okay.”

Walking over to the secondhand sofa we put in here last summer, he lies down and takes out his phone. “My parents are cleaning the house and asked Laiken and me to help. I got out of it by telling them I have a date, but she canceled, so I’m just going to chill here.”

“Suit yourself,” I say. “Or, hear me out, you could always take out the one girl you really want.”

He snickers. “Better idea! You could fuck all the way off.”

“Pussy,” I murmur, and my conscience glares at me.

Yeah, yeah. I know.

Pot, meet Kettle.