Page 120 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

“I don't like arguing with you either.” I help her zip her dress and spin her round to face me. “Difference is, it bothers me because I hate upsetting you. It bothers you because you hate losing.”

She scowls. “I take back every nice thing I've ever said about you.”

“Good thing there haven't been that many.”

“I would've said more if you weren't such an argumentative runaway-erer.”

I lean in, tucking her hair back behind her ear. “How about I never run again? Does that earn me any points back?”

She thinks and then says, “What about letting me win occasionally?”

“And give up the one thing about me you like best? Never.”

She rolls her eyes, but she's smiling, and it might be my favourite combination of expressions on her face ever.

“Come on,” I say again, softer this time. “Let's go home. I think there's a conversation we need to have. And not just between us.”

Something sobers her face. “Yeah. I think so too.”

“Hey.” I catch her chin, gentle, before she can disappear too far into it. “Whatever gets said tonight, I meant what I told you, I'm not⁠—”

A knock cuts me off. One quick rap and then the door's already swinging open before we can say anything.

THIRTY-TWO

Alexia

The door swings open before either of us can stop it.

“Hey, Lexi, we brought you som⁠—”

And the two figures stop in the threshold, staring in at us, still in a half-dressed embrace.

Marcus and Zachary. Their eyes scanning the tableau in front of them.

Then Marcus's eyes narrow and he storms in, pulling me from Rhys's arms.

“What did you do to her?” Marcus hisses.

Rhys frowns, takes my arm and gently pulls me back towards him. “What are you talking about?”

Zachary comes in and stands at my side, a little more wary, eyes still locked on my face. “Then why has she been crying? Did you do something to upset her?”

“I... don't think she was upset with what I did, no,” Rhys says, offence in his voice at the accusation.

Marcus spins to me. “But look at her eyes⁠—”

“Guys, it's fine. Rhys didn't do anything.” I swipe under my eyes, aware of exactly how I must look, puffy, blotchy, and thoroughly kissed (and fucked) within an inch of my life. “Well. He did plenty. None of it upsetting.”

Rhys's mouth curls at the corner and I elbow him in the ribs hard enough that he grunts.

“Right. Okay, then, if you're sure.” Zachary drags a hand down his face like he's bracing for something, gaze flicking between the two of us, putting all the pieces together. “So why do you look like you've been crying for an hour, and why does it look like you two just⁠—”

“Can we not do this in my office,” I say, “with the door open?”

So we end up at home twenty minutes later. The three of them lined up on the couch like an inordinately handsome jury, me pacing the rug in front of them as I recount my day in detail. Up to the part when I found Rhys waiting outside my office, that is.

“Yeah, I'm going to go have a word with Craig,” Marcus says, getting up from the couch.