THE BOY I WAS NEVER MEANT TO LOVE

Chapter One: The Five-Second Rule

The smell of burnt toast and expensive cologne is the official scent of my childhood.

I sat at the Miller’s kitchen island, swinging my legs and staring at the back of Liam’s head.

He was currently wrestling with a stubborn toaster, his broad shoulders tensing under a charcoal-Grey suit jacket. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine, or perhaps in a high-rise office building anywhere but here, making breakfast for two messy teenagers.

"Maya, if you keep staring at the bread, it won't pop up any faster," Liam said without turning around.

I could hear the smirk in his voice.

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. "I wasn't staring at the bread. I was staring at… the clock. We’re going to be late for school."

"Five minutes," he promised, finally coaxing a charred slice of sourdough out of the machine. He turned around, and for a second, the world felt like it shifted about two inches to the left.

Liam Miller was five years older than me and my best friend’s brother. He was the guy who taught me how to ride a bike, the guy who once chased away a stray dog that barkable at me, and the guy who currently held my entire heart in his hands without even knowing it.

To my best friend, Chloe, he was just "the annoying brother who spends too much on hair gel." To me, he was everything.

"Where’s your shadow?" Liam asked, sliding a plate in front of me.

"Chloe’s still upstairs trying to decide if she’s a 'scrunchie person' or a 'claw clip person' today," I sighed, picking at the crust of my toast.

Liam chuckled, a low, melodic sound that made my stomach do a nervous backflip.

He leaned against the counter, checking his watch. He was graduating from his Master’s program this spring and was already interning at a top law firm.

He was grown-up. He was career-oriented. He was completely, utterly off-limits.

"Hey," he said, his voice softening. He reached out and flicked a stray lock of hair away from my eyes.

His fingers brushed my forehead for a fraction of a second.

"You okay? You’re quiet today."

I’m in love with you and it’s ruining my life.

I thought.

"Just physics," I lied. "Test today."

"You'll ace it. You’re the smartest person in this house, and that includes me." He gave me a wink the kind of casual, brotherly wink that felt like a localized earthquake.

"Earth to Maya!"

Chloe snapped her fingers in front of my face as we walked down the high school hallway later that morning. The linoleum floors hummed with the sound of sneakers and lockers slamming.

"Sorry, what?" I blinked, refocusing on my best friend.

"I was saying, we should go to the lake this weekend. My parents are away, and Liam said he’d supervise. Which basically means he’ll sit on the deck with a book and ignore us while we tan." Chloe rolled her eyes.

"He’s become such a bore since he started that internship."

I forced a laugh. "Yeah, such a bore."

"Anyway, did you see the way Noah was looking at you in English?

I think he’s finally going to ask you to the Spring Formal."

I felt a pang of guilt. Noah was nice. He was on the soccer team, he had a great smile, and most importantly, he was my age. He was the "correct" choice.

But every time Noah spoke to me, I found myself comparing his voice to Liam’s. Every time he made a joke, I wondered if Liam would find it funny.

"He’s okay," I said noncommittally.

"Just okay? Maya, you’ve been 'just okay' about every guy since freshman year. Are you waiting for a prince or something?"

No.

I thought bitterly.

Just your brother.

Our families had lived next door to each other since before we were born. Our moms took yoga together. Our dads shared a lawnmower. If I ever confessed my feelings for Liam, and he, inevitably didn't feel the same way, I wouldn't just lose my crush.

I’d lose my best friend. I’d lose the family dinners. I’d make every holiday awkward for the next fifty years.

I was playing a high-stakes game of poker with a hand full of hearts, and I couldn't afford to show them.

By 3:30 PM, the sky had turned. By 3:45, it was pouring.

"My car won't start," Chloe groaned, staring out the window of the student parking lot.

"The battery is dead again. I told Dad that alternator was sketchy."

"Should we call a Uber?" I asked, shivering as the damp air seeped through my thin hoodie.

"Better. I’ll call the chauffeur." She pulled out her phone and dialed.

"Liam? Hey, the hunk of junk died. Yeah. Maya’s with me. You’re a lifesaver. See you in ten."

Ten minutes later, Liam’s sleek black sedan pulled up to the curb.

He didn't just stay in the car; he hopped out with a large golf umbrella, running over to usher us in.

"Get in, get in!" he commanded, holding the umbrella over us.

In the chaos of trying to stay dry, I ended up in the front seat. Chloe scrambled into the back, immediately stretching out her legs and complaining about her damp shoes.

The interior of the car smelled like him.

"You guys are soaked," Liam said, turning up the heat. He reached into the backseat and grabbed a clean sweatshirt.

"Here, Maya. Put this on before you catch a cold."

He handed it to me. It was his. A thick, navy blue hoodie with his university logo on it. I hesitated.

"I'm fine, Liam, really—"

"Maya. Put it on. You’re shivering." His voice had that "older brother" authority, but his eyes were kind.

I pulled the hoodie over my head. It was huge on me, the sleeves swallowing my hands, but it was warm. It felt like a hug. I felt Liam’s eyes on me as I emerged from the fabric, my hair a frizzy mess from the humidity.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much," I whispered.

The drive back was filled with Chloe’s chatter about her drama club auditions, but I stayed quiet, watching the windshield wipers sweep away the rain.

I felt like a spy in enemy territory. I was wearing his clothes, sitting in his car, listening to his favorite indie-folk playlist.

When we pulled into the Miller’s driveway, Chloe hopped out immediately.

"I’m going to run in and get started on that history project! Maya, you coming?"

"In a second," I said, struggling with the seatbelt. It was stuck.

"Let me help," Liam said.

He leaned over. His face was inches from mine. I could see the faint stubble on his jaw and the gold flecks in his dark eyes.

The air in the car suddenly felt very thin. I stopped breathing.

Everything I had been suppressing for the last three years the longing, the jealousy, the secret smiles bubbled up to the surface.

He unlatched the belt, but he didn't pull away immediately. He stayed there, his hand resting on the center console, looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite read.

It wasn't the look of a "big brother." It was something heavier. Something more complicated.

"You're growing up too fast, Maya," he said softly.

"Is that a bad thing?" My voice was barely a squeak.

He reached out, his thumb grazing my cheekbone, catching a stray raindrop.

"It’s a dangerous thing."