Brotherzoned

Zayne's POV

The push-up count stopped at thirty. I could've gone to fifty, maybe sixty, but my mind wasn't keeping pace with my body.

Every time I exhaled, Isla's face flashed.

The glasses. The trembling hands. The soaked hair plastered to her cheeks.

I dropped to my knees and sat back on my heels, breathing through the memory that wouldn't stop.

I dragged a towel over my face, forcing myself to focus. It didn't work.

I'd told myself I was going downstairs for my charger. Truth? I just wanted to see her again. Just once more, to make sure if the woman I'd pulled out of that alley was really Isla and not a figment of my guilt-soaked imagination.

She was more than real.

Everything Sienna and Silas had ever said about Isla had been criminally inaccurate.

Silas had described her as "sweet but boring," like she was a side note in his own story.

Sienna used to laugh, calling her "my hot nerd bestie" - None of them had mentioned how good looking she really was. The quiet gravity she carried, like she didn't need to try to be noticed, she just was.

Even in her sadness, she was... luminous.

Silas didn't deserve her. Hell, no one did, least of all him.

The sight of seeing her breakdown when Silas walked down the aisle broke my heart and the thought of him giving her the gig for his own wedding, letting her capture the damn pictures while he played groom? It made my stomach twist.

If I'd known earlier, I'd have told him to cancel the whole circus before I rearranged his face myself.

But Silas was my friend, a close one at that. 

My phone buzzed on the desk.

I grabbed it, expecting another useless message from him, but it wasn't.

Dr. Pierce:

Zayne, we didn't have time to greet each other at the wedding. Seems like you left earlier. How long has it been - four years? Come for a checkup soon.

Four years....

That's how long it had been since I last sat in Pierce's office. He'd been my doctor before and after Elena's death, my ex-girlfriend. The man had seen me at my worst, prescribing pills I stopped taking months ago.

He said they'd help restore what trauma had blurred out. I wasn't sure I wanted clarity anymore. Some memories were better left fogged.

I typed back one word - Soon.

A lie, neat and simple.

Before I could set the phone down, another message came through.

Silas:

Meet me before this week or I tell Pierce you're off your meds.

I let out a dry laugh.

Of course. Silas never changed, even blackmail came like gift-wrapped in casual threats.

Fine, I texted back, though we both knew I didn't mean it.

He wanted to see me; maybe to guilt trip for ditching his wedding. Or maybe he just wanted to remind me he still could.

The screen dimmed, and I sat there in silence. The room felt quiet, the air thicker.

Then came the knock.

"Go away, Sienna," I muttered, voice low. "I'm busy."

No answer. Then a hesitant voice -

"It's... not Sienna."

My hands still.

"Come in," I said, quieter this time.

The door creaked open, spilling light from the hallway across the dark floor.

Isla stood there, framed in the doorway like some misplaced item. She was barefoot, wearing one of Sienna's oversized shirts that hit mid-thigh, her hair pulled up in a lazy bun. The glasses were gone, and without them, she looked even hotter.

Her skin looked softer without the rain. Her eyes, wide, searching, found mine and held for a fraction too long.

"Sorry," she said quickly, her fingers twisting in the hem of the shirt. "I didn't mean to bother you."

"You're not bothering me," I lied.

She hesitated. "I, uh... wanted to ask you something."

I leaned back against the desk, crossing my arms. "Go ahead."

Her breath came uneven. "I know this might sound insane, but... were you the one who helped me back at the wedding? Down the alley, I mean."

The question landed like a punch.

"I just-" she stumbled over the words, cheeks flushing. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but when I saw you earlier, something felt... familiar. The cologne, maybe. Or the way you stood. I don't know. I just can't shake it."

My throat tightened. She'd looked small. Fragile in a way that made me want to burn the world down around her just to keep it from touching her again.

I swallowed, hard. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know." She shrugged weakly, eyes falling to the floor. "It's stupid. I'm just trying to make sense of everything."

Her voice cracked halfway through the sentence, and something in me did, too.

I hesitated for a moment...There was no reason to lie, because even if I do, it's only a matter of time before she'd start connecting dots I wasn't ready for her to see.

Call it instinct- stepping out of the shadows to catch some cool breeze and take a smoke, just to walk into her needing a protector. 

I let out a slow breath, forcing my face into something unreadable.

And then, before I could stop myself -

"You look better without the rain this time."

The words slipped out low, almost like they weren't meant for her to hear.

Her brows furrowed. Confusion came first, then a sign of recognition that made her still completely.

For a heart beat everything went still. She blinked once, twice, trying to read me. And I just stood there, hands in my pockets, pretending my chest wasn't burning from the weight of what I hadn't said.

"I..." she started, but her voice trailed off.

I gave her a small nod. "Goodnight, Isla."

She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but she didn't. She just nodded faintly, turned, and walked out.