“Without my crack team of bodyguards?” Ryan gestured toward his men again. “The ones currently doing their best impression of ficus trees? I’m being responsible!”
“Responsible?” Matt’s eyebrow shot up. “You call stalking my boyfriend responsible?”
“First of all”—Ryan held up a finger—”it wasn’t stalking. It was reconnaissance. And second”—another finger joined the first—”can you blame me for being curious? You’ve never let anyone move into the penthouse before. Not even that supermodel from last year who?—”
“Ryan.”
“Right, right. Ancient history.” Ryan turned to me with a conspiratorial wink. “Though I have to say, you’re much prettier than she was.”
Fin, who’d been watching this exchange like it was the best reality show ever, said, “I can’t believe Matt Caine has a baby brother who’s this… this…”
“Charming? Delightful? Roguishly handsome?” Ryan supplied helpfully.
“I was going to saychaos incarnate,” Fin grinned.
“I’ll take it.” Ryan beamed, then turned back to Matt. “See? Your boyfriend’s friends love me already. I’m practically family.”
Matt’s expression softened slightly, though he was clearly trying to maintain his stern big brother facade. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossibly lovable,” Ryan corrected, then turned to me. “Now, about that time Matt tried to adopt a tiger cub…”
“Ryan,” Matt warned.
“It’s such a good story though! He actually convinced our parents it would make a great guard cat?—”
“I was twelve!”
“And apparently terrible at distinguishing cats from tigers,” Ryan stage-whispered to me. “Though in his defense, it was a very small tiger.”
The lunch crowd had thinned considerably by the time we wrapped up. Ryan’s stories had somehow managed to fill nearly an hour, and I’d learned more about Matt’s childhood than I had in all our time together.
Later, Matt insisted on personally escorting Ryan to his suite one floor below the penthouse. “Try not to cause an international incident while you’re here,” Matt warned as Ryan dramatically flopped onto the luxurious couch.
“Me? Never.” Ryan’s innocent expression wouldn’t have fooled a blind man. “I’ll be a perfect angel for the whole week. Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout,” Matt pointed out.
“Details, details,” Ryan waved dismissively. “Besides, I came at the perfect time. The tech conference gala at the Bellagio is tomorrow night, right? I wouldn’t miss seeing you in action for anything.”
Matt’s expression turned serious. “This isn’t a social event, Ryan. There’s a lot at stake.”
“All the more reason to have your favorite brother there for moral support.” Ryan grinned, then turned to me. “You’re going as Matt’s plus one, right? The way these tech galas go, you’ll need someone fun to keep you entertained while the billionaires play their power games.”
“Andy is my date,” Matt said firmly. “And the guest list is already finalized.”
Ryan’s grin only widened as he pulled out his phone. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I already got myself a gold-tier ticket. Being a Caine has its perks.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Plus, I heard Xavier Kingsley might be there. This is going to be better than reality TV.”
I’d been watching Matt navigate the first half of the conference this week, disappearing to endless seminars and closed-door meetings. Tomorrow’s gala at the Bellagio marked the halfway point, and from the way Matt’s jaw tightened at Xavier’s name, I had a feeling the remaining days of the conference were going to get very interesting.
Thirty-Three
ANDY
The glow of dual monitors lit up my makeshift office—a converted guest room that had become my sanctuary in Matt’s penthouse. Lines of code filled the screens as my fingers danced across the keyboard, each keystroke bringing my app closer to reality. I’d been at it for hours, lost in a digital world of my own creation. My world had narrowed to pixels and possibilities, each successful function clicking into place like puzzle pieces in a grand design. I was in my zone, a bubble of creation where dreams took shape one line at a time.
A gentle knock pulled me from my coding trance. I turned to find Matt leaning against the doorframe, looking every bit the successful billionaire with his tie loosened and jacket draped over his arm.
“How was work?” I asked.
