My best friend had one rule-his sister was off-limits. But he's gone now. And she's the only thing that feels right. JULIA It was always the three of us-me, my twin brother Eric, and his best friend, Trent. Inseparable through childhood, thick as thieves through high school. From the moment I met Trent at eight years old, I knew. I knew I loved him, even before I understood what love was. But to him, I was just Eric's little sister. And Eric made sure it stayed that way. I was off-limits. No exceptions. No second chances. But now Eric is gone. A freak accident stole him from us. And Trent... he's still here. Still devastatingly gorgeous. Covered in tattoos and built like a sin. Still looking at me like I'm everything he's ever wanted. He's hurting. So am I. And maybe-just maybe-what we need is each other. TRENT Eric always said it. Over and over again. "You were my friend first. Stay away from Julia." Technically, that wasn't true. Julia was my friend first. But to Eric, none of that mattered. The rule stood. And I honored it. Even when I wanted to break it. Even when every glance, every laugh, every damn touch drove me insane. Now, Eric is gone. And Julia? She's right here, needing me the same way I need her. I want her. Not just for one night. Not just for comfort. I want her in my arms, in my bed, in my life-forever. But I can't have Eric's blessing. And no matter how much I love her, I don't know if I can live with that. Sinfully Yours is a heart-melting, brother's-best-friend romance packed with steamy chemistry, forbidden longing, and a second chance at the love that was never supposed to happen. Get ready to swoon, sigh, and fall hard.
Chapter 1 One
TRENT
Growing up here was like living inside a childhood dream. To most people, it was just another suburban townhouse development, way out on the edge of nowhere. But to an eight-year-old kid? It was magic.
Before that, it had always been just me and my mom, moving from one crappy apartment to the next. The kind with peeling paint, leaky faucets, and neighbors who got into screaming matches at two in the morning. Places where cockroaches were just part of the décor.
But that year-when I turned eight-everything changed. We left the city behind because she got a job working for some fancy lawyer guy.
(Yeah, he ended up being my stepdad. One of those sappy, Hallmark-movie-type stories where a down-on-her-luck single mom meets a guy who actually gives a damn, sweeps her off to a quiet little townhouse community, and pays her well enough that, for the first time, she can make her own choices.)
His name is Joe. My dad, now. And honestly? He looks like a Joe. Sounds like a Joe. Acts like a Joe. And thank God for that. Because before Joe, my mom had a thing for guys named Chad. Or Todd. Or-no joke-Snakes. She actually dated a guy who went by Snakes.
So yeah, Joe Turner was a serious upgrade.
But I'm getting off track.
I was talking about the day I met them-the twins who lived across the green space.
See, this place wasn't just some neat little neighborhood. It had this huge, open field right in the center, with row after row of identical townhouses facing each other. To the left, there were woods. To the right, this incredible rock formation surrounded by just enough water to make it feel like an adventure. In the summer, there were tadpoles and frogs. One year, even a turtle.
Maybe to some kids, that wasn't anything special. But to a kid like me-who had only ever known cracked pavement and overflowing dumpsters-this was heaven.
And then there were them. Julia and Eric.
Same age as me. They'd lived here forever, and to them, I was some clueless city kid who had never built a proper fort, never caught tadpoles, never spent an afternoon just being in the woods. And they made it their personal mission to teach me.
From the moment the moving truck pulled up, we were inseparable.
That's where it all started.
And now... this is where it ends.
I blink, suddenly realizing I've just said all of that out loud.
I'm standing at the podium. In a church. At Eric's funeral.
Everyone is crying. Everyone but me.
I can't even look at Julia, because if I do, I'll lose it. And I can't-won't-lose it. Not yet. Not until I finish this. Because this is the last thing I can do for Eric. My last chance to tell him, in front of everyone, how much I love him. How much I'll miss him. How the world is just wrong without him in it.
I was going to say, "And now this is where it ends." The words are right there, written on the paper in front of me.
But I don't say them.
Because that would mean it's over. And it's not. Not for Julia.
Losing a best friend is one thing. Losing your twin?
I can't even begin to imagine.
So I change course. I talk about growing up. About how Eric went off to business school, I went to mechanic school, and Julia moved away to become a chef. How Eric and I started Hill Top Custom Jeeps and spent the last decade knee-deep in grease and horsepower, living the dream.
Maybe it's just for me. Maybe no one else cares about all these little details. But I need to say them. I need to remind myself that life was good once. That it was real.
Or maybe I'm just stalling.
Because once I stop talking, we have to go outside. Get into the limos. Drive to the cemetery. And throw dirt onto his coffin.
And I'm not ready for that.
But eventually, I run out of words. I mumble out a goodbye and walk back to my seat.
My mom grips my arm. Joe leans in and whispers, "Very nicely done, Trent. He would've loved that eulogy."
And I think, God, I hope so.
After that, everything blurs together. A priest speaking. Me and the guys from the shop carrying Eric's casket. Then standing at his grave, staring down at a wooden box covered in Jeep decals and racing stickers, because of course, that's how Eric would have wanted it.
And then, at some point, everyone leaves.
Everyone except me and Julia.
We sit in those crappy little folding chairs, staring at the fresh dirt. The backhoe is waiting, parked a few feet away. Soon, they'll finish the job. Cover him up for good.
Julia doesn't sob. She doesn't break down or wail into the silence.
She just sits there, hands folded in her lap, staring straight ahead.
But I know what she's thinking.
Because I'm thinking the same thing.
How the hell do we do this? How do we keep going without him?
She sighs-heavy, exhausted.
"Where are you staying?" I ask. "At home?"
She barely shakes her head. "Not staying."
"Not even for a night?"
She shakes her head again. "I need to get back."
"Why?"
She hesitates. Then, barely a whisper-"I don't know."
"You'll have to come back next week for the will," I remind her.
"I don't think I'm going to that."
And finally-for the first time today-she looks at me.
Julia has always been pretty. Soft, round face. Dark wavy hair that falls in a curtain over her shoulders. Plump lips, though her lipstick is long gone. Her black dress is simple, nothing fancy, but she's wearing this little black hat with a veil over her face.
And through that delicate web of lace, I see it.
The loss.
And my heart just-sinks.
Or maybe it's my stomach. I don't know. I just know I need to do something.
So I wrap an arm around her.
She leans into me like it's the first bit of relief she's had all day.
"Remember when you and Eric switched places for a day?" I ask.
She huffs out a tiny laugh. "Oh, God. Why did we do that?"
"I think it was because he wanted to wear your clothes."
She actually laughs. A real laugh. "No, he wanted to trade chores. He was supposed to wash the car, and I was supposed to sweep the patio." She looks up at me, smiling. "Guess who was out playing in the woods with you first?"
I smirk. "God, Julia. I've missed you. Why'd you move two hours away?"
She shrugs. "I dunno." A pause. Then, softer-"I do know."
She takes a breath. And then, in a voice so small it nearly disappears-"I wanted to see what life was like without him."
And just like that, the ache in my chest becomes unbearable.
So I lean into her, and she leans into me. Holding each other up.
And for a little while, we just sit there.
Giving in to the sadness.
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