Falling for my Brother's Girlfriend

Morgan's POV

Twenty push-ups, thirty sit-ups, and a five-minute plank—my typical morning ritual. Unlike my brother Patrick, who hits the gym five times a week, I prefer the solitude of my bedroom floor with nothing but my thoughts and the steady rhythm of indie rock playing through my wireless earbuds. The Killers' "Mr. Brightside" pumps through my ears as I finish my final set.

Sweat beads on my forehead as I check the time — 6:15 AM. Perfect. With Patrick staying at his fiancée's place last night, I have the bathroom all to myself. No need to coordinate schedules or rush through my shower.

I grab a towel and head to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My short brown hair is sticking up in all directions, shaved sides growing out just enough to need another trim soon. The look suits me—what my little sister Lucy lovingly dubbed my "handsome" appearance years ago. The nickname stuck, much to my mother's dismay and my older sister Whitney's perpetual eye-rolling.

The hot water cascades over my shoulders as I hum along to Hozier now. This is my sanctuary—the place where I don't have to pretend to be anyone but myself. No expectations to dress more "appropriately" or act more "ladylike." Just me, Morgan Reed, in all my contradictory glory.

I'm toweling off when I hear the front door open. Patrick wasn't supposed to be back until this evening. Curious, I quickly pull on my bathrobe—pink, of course—and poke my head out of the bathroom.

"Hello? Pat, is that you?"

"In the flesh!" my brother's voice calls back. "Got a surprise for you, Morg!"

I step into the hallway, securing my robe. "You're early. I thought you were staying at—"

The words die in my throat as I enter our small living room. Patrick isn't alone. Standing beside him is the most breathtaking woman I've ever laid eyes on. Tall, with caramel skin and dark curls cascading past her shoulders, she has the kind of presence that immediately commands attention. Her eyes—deep brown with flecks of amber—meet mine, and I feel an electric current run through my body.

"Morgan, this is Bianca," Patrick says, his arm around the woman's waist. "My fiancée."

Fiancée? When did this happen? Last I checked, they'd been dating for only a few months.

I realize I'm staring and quickly extend my hand. "Hi, I'm Morgan. Sorry about..." I gesture to my bathrobe and wet hair, "...this whole situation."

Bianca's laugh is musical, genuine. "Don't apologize. Patrick sprung this visit on you." She takes my hand, and her touch sends another jolt through me. "It's wonderful to finally meet you. Patrick talks about you constantly."

"All good things, I hope," I manage to say, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my chest.

"The best," she replies with a smile that could melt glaciers.

I turn to Patrick, desperate to break the spell Bianca has cast on me. "So, when did the engagement happen? And why am I just hearing about it now?"

Patrick has the decency to look sheepish. "Last night. It was spontaneous. We were having dinner at Riviera, and I just... knew." He looks at Bianca with such adoration that I almost feel like I'm intruding. "We came straight here because I wanted you to be the first to know."

"Congratulations," I say, genuinely happy for my brother despite the unexpected pang of jealousy. "This calls for coffee, at least. Let me get dressed, and I'll put on a pot."

"No rush," Patrick says. "We brought pastries from that bakery you love on Maple Street."

Ten minutes later, I'm dressed in my work attire—black slacks, a crisp blue button-up, and a tailored black blazer. Professional, but with my own touch. I've styled my hair into its usual swept-back look and added just a hint of cologne—the same brand Patrick wears.

When I return to the kitchen, Patrick and Bianca are already seated at our small dining table, coffee mugs in hand. A box of pastries sits open between them.

"There she is," Patrick says. "The most fashionable HR manager in all of California."

I roll my eyes but can't help smiling. "Flattery will get you everywhere." I pour myself a cup of coffee and join them, trying not to stare at Bianca.

"Morgan is the Human Resources Manager at Sunset Crest Hotel," Patrick explains to Bianca. "Got the job through her best friend Jade."

"The General Manager," I add, taking a sip of my coffee. "We've been friends since college."

"That must be nice, working with a close friend," Bianca says, and I notice she's studying me with interest. Not the judgmental kind I'm used to from strangers trying to figure out if I'm a man or woman, but something different. Something I can't quite place.

"It has its perks," I admit. "Though she's technically my boss, so it gets complicated sometimes."

"Morgan and Jade have this whole thing where they dress alike," Patrick chimes in, grinning. "It's adorable."

"It's not a 'thing,'" I protest, feeling my cheeks warm. "We just happen to have similar taste."

"In everything," Patrick adds with a wink.

I kick him under the table, and he laughs.

"So, Bianca," I say, eager to change the subject. "What do you do?"

"I'm an art curator at the Westside Gallery," she replies. "That's actually how Patrick and I met. His firm was handling the insurance for our new exhibition."

As she speaks, I can't help but notice the graceful way her hands move, the slight tilt of her head when she's explaining something she's passionate about. I force myself to look away. She's my brother's fiancée, for God's sake.

"Morgan's room is the pink paradise," Patrick suddenly announces. "You wouldn't believe it looking at her, but everything in there is some shade of pink."

Bianca raises an eyebrow, looking at me with renewed interest. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed."

I shrug. "What can I say? I contain multitudes."

"Which reminds me," Patrick says, his expression turning serious. "I have a favor to ask, Morg."

Here it comes. The real reason for their early morning visit.

"Bianca's apartment is being fumigated, and she needs a place to stay for a few days. I was hoping..."

"She could stay in my room?" I finish for him.

"Just for a week, tops," Patrick adds quickly. "I'd offer my room, but with all my equipment..."

Patrick's room doubles as his home office, packed with computer equipment for his job as a cybersecurity consultant. There's barely space for his bed, let alone a guest.

I look at Bianca, who seems genuinely apologetic. "I don't want to impose," she says. "I can find a hotel."

"No, it's fine," I hear myself say. "Mi casa es su casa." I hand her the spare key to my room that I keep on my keychain. "Fair warning though—Patrick wasn't exaggerating about the pink."

"Thank you," Bianca says, her fingers brushing mine as she takes the key. "I really appreciate it."

My phone buzzes in my pocket, saving me from having to respond. It's a text from Jade: "Outside. Your chariot awaits, handsome."

I check the time—6:50 AM. "That's my ride," I announce, grabbing a pastry from the box. "Duty calls."

"Jade's picking you up?" Patrick asks. "What happened to your car?"

"In the shop. Something with the transmission." I take a bite of the pastry—almond croissant, my favorite. "I should be back around six. Make yourselves at home."

I give Patrick a quick hug and nod to Bianca. "It was nice meeting you."

"Likewise," she says, and there's something in her eyes that makes my heart skip a beat.

I hurry outside before I can do something stupid like stare at her for too long. Jade's sleek silver sedan is idling by the curb, and she honks when she sees me.

"Morning, handsome," she greets as I slide into the passenger seat. She's wearing an outfit nearly identical to mine—same black slacks and blazer, but with a turquoise button-up instead of blue. Her long black hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and her makeup is flawless as always.

"Morning, gorgeous," I reply, buckling my seatbelt. "Thanks for the ride."

"What are best friends for?" She pulls away from the curb. "Besides, I couldn't let my HR manager be late on the day the CEO visits."

I nearly choke on my pastry. "The CEO? Today?"

Jade nods, looking far too amused by my reaction. "Got the email this morning. Surprise inspection."

"And you're just telling me now?"

"I tried calling, but you didn't answer." She glances at me. "Everything okay? You seem distracted."

I debate whether to tell her about Bianca. Jade knows I'm gay—she's one of the few people who does—but she's never taken my occasional flirtations seriously. To her, they're just jokes between friends.

"Patrick brought his fiancée home this morning," I say finally.

"Fiancée?" Jade's perfectly shaped eyebrows shoot up. "When did that happen?"

"Last night, apparently. Her name's Bianca. She's..." I search for a word that won't reveal too much. "...interesting."

"Interesting good or interesting bad?"

"Good," I admit. "Very good."

Jade studies me at a red light. "Morgan Reed, do you have a crush on your brother's fiancée?"

"What? No!" I protest too quickly. "I just met her."

"Mmhmm." Jade doesn't look convinced. "Well, keep it in your pants, Romeo. The last thing you need is family drama."

"Says the woman who's been engaged to the same guy for three years with no wedding date in sight."

Jade rolls her eyes. "Adrian and I are taking our time. Not everyone rushes into marriage like your brother apparently does."

We fall into comfortable silence as she navigates the morning traffic. I stare out the window, thinking about Bianca staying in my room. My very pink room, with its sports memorabilia on one wall and rainbow flag discreetly tucked in the corner of my bulletin board. My room that contains more clues about my sexuality than I've ever verbally shared with my family.

"Hey," Jade says softly, reaching over to squeeze my hand. "You okay?"

I turn to look at her, this beautiful woman who's been my best friend for years, who I've been half in love with since college despite knowing she'll never feel the same way. And now there's Bianca, who makes my heart race after just one meeting.

"I'm fine," I lie. "Just thinking about the CEO visit."

Jade doesn't believe me—I can tell by the way she squeezes my hand again before letting go—but she doesn't push.

"We'll knock his socks off," she says confidently. "The dynamic duo, remember?"

I smile despite myself. "The dynamic duo."

As we pull into the hotel parking lot, I push thoughts of Bianca aside. I have a job to do, a CEO to impress, and a best friend who needs my support. Whatever this strange new feeling is, it can wait.

But as Jade and I walk into Sunset Crest Hotel side by side in our matching outfits, I can't help but wonder what Bianca will think of my pink paradise—and what else she might discover about me in the process.