Kissing My Enemy, Breaking His Brother

Eleanor's POV

The sound of luggage wheels on wood made my heart jump.

I shot up from the velvet armchair by the fireplace, nearly spilling the champagne. My hands smoothed down the sleeveless cream cashmere sweater dress one last time.

Arthur was finally here.

"Babe, you're going to wear a hole in that rug." Chloe stood beside me, watching me pace back and forth relentlessly.

My best friend had been watching me pace for two hours. "You look gorgeous."

Wyatte emerged from the game room and snapped his fingers at us. "Ladies, who are you waiting for so eagerly? We never got this kind of treatment when we came over before. Playing favorites, aren't you?"

He patted my shoulder. "If you're waiting for Julian, no need to worry—he'll definitely come. If he knew, he'd be moved to tears."

I was about to protest that I wasn't waiting for that big jerk when Chloe pulled him away and said, "You don't know anything at all."

Blake and Zach were still in the game room, their voices drifting through the lodge. Blake's booming laugh rang out every few minutes.

The front door swung open.

My breath caught.

Julian Vance walked in.

Not Arthur. Julian.

My heart sank.

Julian kicked the door shut and dragged his suitcase inside. Snowflakes melted in his brown hair. Dark jeans, charcoal sweater. He stepped into the firelight and those gray-blue eyes found me. That infuriating smirk tugged at his mouth, making the small mole at the corner of his eye more noticeable.

"Well, well." He let out a low whistle. "Look at you, all dolled up."

"Hey, you made it. Where's Arthur?"

"Hello to you too, Red." He tossed his coat over the sofa.

"Don't call me that." I crossed my arms. "Where is he?"

"Delayed. Business call." Julian's eyes traveled over me slowly. "What's with the dress? Little fancy for a ski lodge, don't you think?"

"I felt like dressing up. There's a party later."

"Sure you did." He walked straight toward me, standing way too close. "You even curled your hair. When's the last time you did that? Graduation day, senior year? You burned your hand trying to impress—oh wait." He paused, grinning. "You were trying to impress Arthur then too, weren't you?"

I slapped his arm. "Shut up."

"Make me, Red."

He reached out and tugged gently on one of my curls, watching it bounce back. I batted his hand away but he just laughed.

"Still doing that thing where you position yourself by the fireplace for optimal lighting?" He tilted his head, studying me. "Very cinematic. Arthur's going to walk in and think he's in a Hallmark movie."

"You're such an ass."

"So I've been told." He plucked the champagne flute right out of my hand. "Liquid courage?"

"Hey!" I grabbed for it but he held it above my head, grinning.

"Answer the question first."

"Julian, I swear to God—"

"You swear to God what?" He took a sip of my champagne, maintaining eye contact. "You'll tell Arthur you're madly in love with him? Tonight?"

My mouth fell open. "How did you—"

"Oh my God," Chloe breathed from the kitchen. "Elle, you told him?"

"I didn't tell him anything!"

"She didn't have to." Julian handed the glass back, his fingers brushing mine. "She's wearing perfume. Red never wears perfume. Remember that time in eighth grade when you tried Mom's Chanel and sneezed for three hours?"

I shoved him. Hard. He stumbled back a step, laughing.

"You're the worst."

"But I'm honest." He caught his balance and stepped back into my space. "Elle, seriously. Have you thought this through?"

"Of course I have."

"Really?" He caught my wrist before I could hit him again. "Because Arthur's never given you any indication he sees you as more than his little sister."

I yanked my hand free. "You don't know that."

"Don't I?" His voice dropped. "Let me guess. You've been texting him. Dropping hints. And he's been what? Polite? Friendly? Calling you kiddo?"

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

"That's what I thought." He grabbed my champagne glass again and drained it. "You're about to ambush your childhood crush with a confession he definitely doesn't want."

"How would you know what he wants?"

"Because I'm his brother." Something flickered across his face. "And I actually pay attention."

"Oh, you pay attention?" I snatched the empty glass from his hand. "To what? Your extreme sports and your groupies?"

"Ouch." He pressed a hand to his chest. "That one stung."

"Good."

"You know what stings?" He leaned against the mantel. "Watching you pine after someone who's never going to see you the way you want him to."

"You don't know that."

"He said yes to this trip immediately," I insisted. "That has to mean something."

"Or it means he wanted a free ski vacation." Julian's jaw clenched. "Has he texted you since he got in the car?"

I pulled out my phone. No new messages. "He's driving."

"Right. Of course." His voice went flat. "And you're going to stand here waiting for Prince Charming to walk through that door and realize he's been in love with you all along."

"Why do you care so much?"

The question hung in the air.

Julian's expression shifted—something raw flashing across his face before he covered it with that lazy smirk. "I don't. Just don't want to deal with the crying later."

"I won't cry."

"You cried when you burned your hand with a curling iron, Red. You'll definitely cry when my brother—"

"Elle!" Blake's voice boomed as he and Zach emerged from the game room. "Damn, you clean up nice!"

"Doesn't she?" Julian said, too brightly. "She's planning to tell Arthur she's in love with him tonight."

"Julian!" I punched his arm.

"Ow! Jesus, you're violent when you're nervous."

"I'm violent when you're being an asshole."

"So, always?" He rubbed his arm, grinning.

"This is your moment!" Chloe clapped her hands encouragingly.

"This is going to be amazing," Blake said.

"Or a complete disaster," Julian muttered.

I spun to face him. "You know what your problem is?"

"I have so many. You'll have to be more specific."

"You can't stand the idea of me being happy."

His grin faltered. "That's not—"

"You've been like this since we were kids. Every time I was excited about something, you had to ruin it." I poked his chest. "Remember my tenth birthday? I was so excited about that dolphin necklace Arthur gave me, and you said it looked like something from a gumball machine."

"It did look like—"

I poked him harder. "So excuse me if I don't take relationship advice from someone who's never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a weekend."

His jaw clenched, something shuttering behind his eyes.

"Fair enough." His voice went flat. "Do whatever you want. It's your funeral."

He grabbed his suitcase and headed down the hallway.

I stood there, heart racing, hands shaking.

"That was harsh," Chloe said quietly.

"He started it."

"Did he though?" She handed me fresh champagne. "Or was he trying to protect you?"

"He doesn't know what he's talking about." I took a long sip. "Arthur and I have something real."

But doubt crept in.

At Thanksgiving, when I'd told Arthur I missed him, he'd said, "I miss you too, kiddo." When I'd mentioned this trip, he'd seemed happy. "I'd love to. Thanks for thinking of me, Elle."

That had to mean something.

The minutes crawled by. I paced. Checked my phone. Smoothed my dress.

Blake, Zach, and Wyatte went back to the game room. Chloe busied herself in the kitchen.

Then—voices outside. Car doors slamming.

My heart kicked into overdrive.

Julian emerged from the hallway, hair damp from a shower, wearing a fresh black sweater. He must have heard it too.

He stopped when he saw me. Our eyes met.

For just a second, his expression was completely unguarded. Concerned.

Then he looked away.

I moved toward the door, heart pounding.

Through the frosted glass, I could see figures outside. Hear Arthur's voice.

I pulled the door open just a crack— And froze.

Through the narrow gap, Arthur stood outside in the falling snow, his figure framed by swirling snowflakes.

He wasn't alone.

A woman in a burgundy coat. Long brown hair. She rose up on her toes, her hand sliding to Arthur's chest.

And then she kissed him.

His arm went around her waist. Automatic. Easy.

Like they'd done this a thousand times.

The world stopped.

A sound escaped me.

My hand flew to my mouth. My legs buckled. I grabbed the doorframe, but my knees were giving out, vision tunneling—

Footsteps behind me. Fast.

"Elle, don't—"

Julian's voice, sharp with panic.

Then his arms were around me, one hand catching my waist to keep me from falling. The other came up, his palm pressing gently over my eyes, blocking out the sight that was burning into my retinas.

"Don't look." His voice cracked as he glanced outside, rough and broken. "Jesus, Elle, don't look."