Craving My Brother's Best Friend (Bailey and Kaleb) novel Chapter 48

**The Night We Borrowed Fire from a Broken Star by Selvin Arlo Crest**
**Chapter 48**

**Bailey’s POV**

A deep sense of unease settled in my chest as I thought about Kaleb that day. The moment he called, his words were slurred, a clear indication of his intoxication. I could almost feel the weight of his despair through the phone, and when he passed out at the bar, my heart plummeted.

For a fleeting second, time seemed to freeze. It had been years since I had witnessed him in such a vulnerable state. The last time I had seen him like this was six years ago, a moment that had shattered me in ways I still struggled to articulate. The memory of that day haunted me, a ghost that lingered in the corners of my mind.

I sat in a cocoon of silence, my thoughts spiraling until my mother’s voice cut through the haze.

“Bailey, are you even listening to me?” she inquired, tilting her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in concern.

I blinked rapidly, forcing a smile to mask my turmoil. “Of course, Mom,” I replied, though my mind was still miles away.

She studied me with that knowing gaze that mothers possess, the kind that could see right through any façade.

“Where is your David? And what about Kaleb?” she probed, her voice laced with curiosity.

“I’ll call them,” I murmured softly, trying to sound nonchalant even as my heart raced.

Just then, my phone vibrated against the table, and I glanced down to see a message from David illuminating the screen: *We’re almost there.*

A wave of relief washed over me. “They’re on their way,” I announced, the anxiety easing slightly.

My parents were visiting New York for business, planning to stay for three long months. They insisted on gathering us all for a family dinner, a celebration not just for their visit but also for my recent election victory.

The thought of it made me squirm with embarrassment. I hadn’t wanted a grand affair; I preferred to keep things low-key. Yet, when my parents set their minds to something, it was like trying to stop a freight train.

As we entered the five-star restaurant, the rich aroma of gourmet dishes enveloped us, mingling with the soft melodies drifting from a hidden corner.

The chandeliers above sparkled like a constellation of tiny stars, casting a warm glow over the elegantly set tables. A waiter guided us to our reserved table, draped in pristine white cloth, with wine glasses glinting like jewels.

“Fancy,” my mom whispered, her eyes sparkling with delight as she slid into her seat.

I took my place beside her, while my dad settled across from me, adjusting his tie with the practiced precision of someone who wanted to appear important.

Moments later, David strolled in, his trademark calm smile lighting up his face. He waved at us before making his way over. Right behind him was Kaleb.

The instant my gaze fell upon him, my heart did a somersault. No matter how hard I tried to shake it off, the image of him lingered in my mind, like a stubborn shadow.

“Sorry we’re late,” David said, his tone polite as he embraced my mom and shook hands with my dad.

Kaleb merely nodded, his eyes flickering toward me for a brief moment before darting away.

He chose a seat at the far end of the table, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was far from okay. The familiar look of melancholy that I had seen years ago before he vanished for so long had returned, and it unsettled me deeply.

The waiter began to serve us, and soon, steaming plates filled with exquisite food were placed in front of each of us. We all dug in, the rhythmic clinking of forks against plates creating a backdrop to our meal.

My dad cleared his throat, leaning forward with a sparkle in his eye, as if he had a significant announcement to make.

“The son of my business partner is attending the same college as you kids,” he declared proudly. “He’ll be joining us tonight.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”

My mom chimed in, her smile widening. “That’s lovely. Perhaps you all know him already.”

I didn’t think much of it until the restaurant doors swung open, and my breath caught in my throat.

It was Ethan.

He strolled in with an air of confidence, as if he had been expecting this dinner all along.

Adjusting his jacket, he made a beeline for our table, and I felt my hands freeze around my fork. My stomach twisted in a knot of anxiety.

But before I could utter a single word, I caught a glimpse of Kaleb. His jaw was clenched tightly, as if he were holding back a tempest.

His hand gripped his spoon so fiercely that his knuckles turned white. His gaze was locked on Ethan, a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes—anger, confusion, something darker that sent a shiver down my spine.

Ethan flashed a small, disarming smile. “Good evening,” he greeted, his voice smooth as silk.

“Ethan,” my dad replied warmly, standing to welcome him.

“Welcome! Everyone, this is Ethan Cross,” he announced with a flourish.

I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “We all know who he is, Dad,” I interjected, my voice tinged with a mix of amusement and annoyance.

Ethan slid into the seat beside me, his cologne enveloping me in a cloud of sophistication. I could feel Kaleb’s glare burning into him, a palpable tension hanging in the air.

My dad surveyed the table, clearly relishing the moment. “So, are you all friends?” he asked, his tone light.

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