Best friend's Baby Sister [END]

BFBS : 2

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Chapter 2
FREEN

Boobs.

All I see are boobs. Perky. Round. They're in my face and I'm having a hard time straightening up to look at the waitress's eyes. Alcohol drips off her perfect tits, rolling down onto the table and splashing into my lap.

"Sorry," the drunk asshole who bumped into her slurs, stumbling away. Heng, who's on his way to being just as toasted as that guy, jumps up and takes the waitress by the arm and helps her straighten up. The guy had shoved her forward and she hit the table. In a desperate attempt to save the tray full of shots she brought it closer to her body which resulted in all ten shot glasses and one strawberry margarita sliding down the tray and crashing against her ample chest.

I've never been jealous of an inanimate object before today. She's leaning over, alcohol streaming down the tray. A shot glass hits the table and rolls, landing on my lap.

"You all right?" Heng asks, brow furrowing. He looks through the crowd for the drunk guy who bumped into the waitress. She takes a step back, looking at the alcohol running down the front of her white dress. I raise my gaze from her breasts to her face, and my heart stops in my chest.

It's Rebecca, and I haven't laid eyes on her in years. Her eyes widen in shock, full lips parting ever so slightly. And then red rushes to her cheeks, embarrassed not by dropping the tray, but by having everyone look at her.

It may have been years since I've seen her, but I remember her well. Even though I shouldn't. Even though it's wrong.

"Bright's going to kill you," Heng says with a grin.

She shakes her head. "I do his taxes. He won't kill me." With a sigh, she shifts her gaze, looking at me for the first time. "I am so—" The words die in her throat the second we make eye contact. Everything about her is sheer perfection—even with the booze covering her dress. Her brunette hair falls down her back in waves, and I can see a hint of her freckles dotting her cheeks. She blinks rapidly, long lashes coming together. Then she turns her head down again, wiping away a bead of alcohol rolling down her neck. I can't help but look too, eyes going right to her tits, which are currently covered in whiskey. My cock jumps at the thought of licking it off her.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry," she finally finishes.

"It's okay. It wasn't your fault." I exhale and reach across the table for a napkin. It's damp from the drink that was resting on it, but it's better than nothing.

"Thanks." Her fingers brush mine as she takes the napkin, swiping it over her collarbone. "It's going to be hard to explain this if I get pulled over on the way home." Her hand plunges between her breasts, wiping up as much of the whiskey off her white skin as she can.

"You too, Freen." Nam points to the shot glass that's resting on my legs. "You both smell like alcoholics."

Her comment, as innocent as it is, makes me cringe. I do know what an alcoholic smells like. And it's often much worse than smelling like straight whiskey and a strawberry margarita.

"Whatever," Rebecca says, shaking her head. "It is what it is, right? Could be worse. Want me to get you refills?"

"Refills implies we got the first fill," Heng teases, picking up empty shot glasses from the table. I lean over and grab three from the floor. Rebecca does the same, but her back is to me. My mouth goes dry as I watch her bend over, oblivious to how dangerously close her ass is to being exposed in that short dress.

It's just a sundress, white with little pale-yellow birds patterned along the hem. On anyone else, I wouldn't bat an eye. But on Rebecca, a potato sack would look erotic.

She's lean, getting most of her height from her long legs. I've wanted to bury my face between her breasts since the moment I saw her, and those tits are what threw me on day one, thinking she was much older than she really was.

Even when I found out our age difference, I still wanted her. Her brother was my roommate freshman year of college, but it didn't matter.

Until it did.

Heng became more like a brother than my best friend, and I didn't realize how much I needed his family until they took me in. The whole Armstrong crew—all seven of them—are good people.

The kind of good that's hard to find.

The kind of good that values family. That means it when they say they'll be there for you. The kind that makes you feel welcome and safe, who invites a stranger who's been living with their son for a few months back to the family farm for Christmas because her own parents had to fly out to Vegas at the last minute to deal with some shit no one should deal with over a holiday.

Then it mattered.

"Thanks," Rebecca tells me and puts the final shot glass on the tray.

"Why are you bringing drinks out?" Heng sits back down in the booth and puts an arm around Nam.

"Heather is running late and I tried to be nice."

"That's where you went wrong, sis." Heng picks up his beer only to realize it's empty. "Don't do favors for those dickheads."

"Those dickheads who brought you another beer?" Bright appears behind Rebecca, with a towel in one hand and a beer in another. Heng laughs and takes the beer from his younger brother.

"It wasn't my fault," Rebecca starts. "Some drunk guy bumped into me. On accident," she adds quickly, knowing her brothers well. All four of them are over-protective, and if it weren't for the fact that I've secretly wanted Rebecca for myself for the last several years, I would have felt sorry for her. Dating can't be easy with Gulf, Bright, Heng, and Billy always looking over her shoulder.

Bright shrugs it off and mops up some of the booze on the floor with the towel. "There's a reason you're not a bartender anymore."

"Trust me, I know." She picks up the tray. "I'll go get more."

"No!" everyone shouts at the same time. Laughing, Bright takes the tray from her. "I'll get it."

"Thanks," she tells him and pulls her phone from her purse, firing off a text message.

"Dammit. Irin's already on her way. I was hoping she'd bring me more clothes," she mutters to herself.

The white fabric of her dress is stained from the margarita, and she has to be soaked down to her bra from the whiskey. Well, if she's wearing a bra. My eyes go back to her chest on their own accord. I don't see straps, and the faint outline of her nipples are visible through the wet fabric.

Dammit. I need to stop.

"I have an extra set of scrubs in my car," I offer before I have a chance to think about what I'm saying. "They're clean."

"I'll take you up on that offer," she says, looking at the stains on her dress again. "The smell alone is going to make me sick."

"Memories?" Heng probes, raising his eyebrows.

"Maybe."

"I didn't know your nerd-friends knew how to have fun."

— TBC 🐻