Craving My Brother's Best Friend (Bailey and Kaleb) novel Chapter 1

**The Night We Borrowed Fire from a Broken Star by Selvin Arlo Crest**

**Chapter 1**

**Bailey’s POV**

As I gazed out the window, the scenery blurred into a tapestry of green and gold, the winding road leading us to our summer retreat in South Carolina. Each curve of the asphalt felt familiar, a comforting embrace that welcomed me back to a place steeped in memories.

Every summer, this destination was our sanctuary, a place where laughter echoed and time seemed to stand still. But this year was different. This time, our parents were absent, off on a crucial business trip that they couldn’t postpone. Instead of canceling our vacation, they entrusted my older brother with the responsibility of looking after me, confident that we were mature enough to navigate the summer on our own.

I was on the cusp of turning eighteen in just a few days, a milestone that should have filled me with excitement. Yet, an unsettling emptiness lingered in my chest.

Why was that?

Because he wouldn’t be here.

Kaleb Hayes. My brother’s best friend.

It had been five long years since he vanished from my life without so much as a farewell. He had been a constant presence, a playful spirit who teased me mercilessly, shaping my childhood in ways I could hardly articulate.

He left when he was eighteen, and I was just thirteen—awkward, with a flat chest, metal braces glinting in the sun, and thick glasses perched precariously on my nose.

To the world, he was the quintessential bad boy—arrogant, tattooed, reckless, and irresistibly attractive.

But to me, he was so much more. He was the boy who taught me how to ride a bike, the one who slipped me candy when my parents said no. He was a beautiful contradiction—too wild, too off-limits, yet inextricably woven into the fabric of my youth.

I could recall every detail of our summers together. He was always part of our vacations, leaping off docks and igniting bonfires that crackled and roared. He and my brother would sneak beers while I pretended to be oblivious, and he would toss me into the water if I ever threatened to spill their secrets.

“Bailey, we’ve arrived!” My brother’s voice snapped me out of my reverie, and I blinked as we pulled into the driveway.

The house stood unchanged, with its wide front porch, sun-bleached shutters, and that easygoing charm that only a summer home could possess. The air was thick with the scent of pine and saltwater, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as if no time had passed at all.

I dragged my bags inside, the wooden floors creaking beneath my feet, each sound a whisper of nostalgia. We knew our rooms by heart, and as I stepped into mine, a wave of memories washed over me.

The first thing I craved was a long, hot bath. As I sank into the warm water, I let out a sigh that seemed to echo through the stillness.

Time slipped away, and when I finally emerged, my stomach growled in protest. I wrapped myself in a towel and padded down the hallway, my damp ginger hair darkening as it clung to my back.

**JEZU**

**ON, NOV 24**

I stretched and yawned, the remnants of sleep still clinging to me, as I made my way to the kitchen in search of a snack.

But then I froze. An unfamiliar figure stood there, his back turned to me, too muscular and rigid to belong to my brother. My heart raced, a wild thump against my ribcage.

He was bent over the open fridge, exuding a confidence that seemed to fill the entire space. I couldn’t move; I was rooted to the spot, eyes wide in disbelief. Yet, fear was the last thing I felt.

His scent wafted through the air—a mix of cinnamon, lavender, and something undeniably masculine. It stirred something deep within me, a memory I couldn’t quite grasp until I caught sight of the rose tattoo on his left shoulder.

In that instant, a vivid flashback hit me—my ten-year-old self, poring over a magazine, pointing out a rose design and telling him it would look amazing on his arm.

I stumbled back, realization crashing over me like a wave.

No.

It couldn’t be.

“Kaleb?” I breathed, barely able to comprehend the name escaping my lips.

He turned at the sound of my voice, our eyes locking in a moment of surprise… and something else that sent a shiver down my spine.

It was really him.

Kaleb Hayes.

Older. Taller. Devastatingly more attractive.

His brown hair was longer than I remembered, pulled back into a messy half-bun that somehow made him look even more alluring. His jawline was sharper now, adorned with a stubble that made him resemble the kind of boys mothers warned their daughters about.

Muscles rippled beneath his tank top as he closed the fridge door, and the way his sweatpants hung low on his hips revealed tantalizing V-lines that made my cheeks flush.

And the tattoos—there were more now, black ink snaking down his arms, wrapping around his biceps, crawling up his neck, telling stories of rebellion and freedom.

He turned fully to face me, his gaze sweeping down my body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

When his eyes met mine again, a smile broke across his face, revealing a perfect set of white teeth.

“Long time no see, kid,” he said, his deep voice jolting me back to reality.

I flinched, and then, in a moment of sheer horror, the worst possible thing happened…

My towel slipped.

For a heartbeat, time froze.

His smile vanished. His eyes widened to saucers, and I could see the tension coiling in his jaw.

I turned a shade redder than a ripe tomato.

“Oh my God!” I gasped, scrambling to retrieve the towel. My fingers trembled as I snatched it off the floor, and in a panic, I turned on my heels and fled.

I didn’t dare look back.

Once I reached my room, I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, my chest heaving as I tried to comprehend the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

“Fuck.” I sank to the floor, collapsing into a heap of mortification and embarrassment, my face buried in my knees.

Kaleb Hayes was back.

He was here.

And I had just accidentally flashed him as if I were the leading lady in a terrible romantic comedy.

To make matters worse, I was no longer a child.

And from the way he had looked at me…

He knew it.

*****

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