My brothers best friend

Chapter 8: Crossing Boundaries

(Edited)

Chapter 8

Valerie's Point of View

I wake up slowly, the morning light filtering softly through the blinds, but something feels... wrong. I can't put my finger on it at first, but then the realization hits me like a bucket of cold water. My head is resting on something—someone. My eyes snap open, panic flaring through me for a split second. What the hell?

No. No way. This can't be happening.

I'm lying on top of Jake.

Jake. My brother's best friend. The guy who's been a mess of confusing emotions lately. The guy who kissed me at that party. The guy who made me feel like something was wrong with me for even enjoying it. The guy who I have hated on these past few days, because of the way he can't control his own mouth.

I blink rapidly, trying to process the situation I am in right now. His chest rises and falls steadily beneath me, the warmth of his body radiating through his shirt, and his arm is draped across my back like he's holding me in place. My heart stutters in my chest, confusion flooding my mind as I realize that not only am I on top of him, but we're tangled together—like we are cuddling.

My head is spinning as I try to make sense of it. What the hell happened last night? I know why he's here. He came to apologize. He was drunk, probably still feeling the effects of the party him and the others were at, but why... why did he actually come here in the middle of the night? To my dorm? 

I need to get out of here.

I try to move away from him, my breath catching in my throat as I attempt to slip out of his tight grip. But Jake is holding me even tighter, his arm a heavy, immovable weight. I try again, my heart pounding harder with each second. Focus, Valerie, I tell myself. This is not happening. 

Finally, I manage to break free. But in my haste, I misstep, and the next thing I know, I'm falling off the edge of the bed with a loud thud.

"Ow!" I grunt, hitting the floor hard. My body protests, but I don't care—I just need to get away from him.

Jake groans from the bed, his voice thick with sleep. "What are you doing?" he mutters, clearly still half-conscious.

I scramble to my feet, my body aching, and shoot him a glare as I rub my side. "What am I doing? What the hell were you doing, making us sleep like that?" I snap at him, my voice coming out sharper than I intended while my hands motion to the bed, were we two secounds ago were cuddled to eachother.

He sits up in the bed, rubbing his eyes and squinting in my direction, clearly not fully awake. "I don't know. I didn't exactly plan for you to climb on top of me, Valerie, now did I?," he asks, sounding groggy, but there's a hint of annoyance creeping in now. "You're the one who decided to climb on top of me."

I scowl, my emotions bubbling to the surface. "I wasn't the one who got drunk and decided to crash in my best friend's sister's bed, was I?" The words come out before I can stop them, and I immediately feel the weight of them.

His gaze hardens, and a flicker of frustration flashes in his eyes. "I only came here because I was drunk, don't get your hopes up. I didn't want to be here. I was just trying to apologize. But I'm not gonna pretend like you didn't—" His words stop abruptly as if he's caught himself, and the silence that follows is thick with unspoken tension.

I cross my arms, staring at him. The words "I didn't want to be here" gnaw at me. Not because I'm hurt. But because it feels like something is missing. Like he's saying one thing, but his actions are telling me something completely different. I know I should be angry. I really should, and I won't lie he is definitely making me angry, but he is really hot in my bed. His morning hair is...