Page 152 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

He grins down at her, pressing a hard kiss to her lips, then he gives me a supportive smile. “Just be yourself. You've got this. We're right there, wave if you need us.”

Just then, the guy sees me and nods.

I wave.

“Already?” Aria says, alarmed.

“Relax, baby,” Hunter says with a laugh. “I think she's waving at Tall Handsome Filled Out Trousers walking this way.”

I laugh, more out of nerves than anything else, and slide off the stool, reciting affirmations under my breath like I'm a fortune cookie.

An hour later, I've decided the guy, Lance, is exactly as advertised. Tall, handsome, and — pants thing aside — a good conversationalist.

“Fine, I'll give you Elements if you're taking everything into consideration, especially for a special occasion,” he says, turning his glass a slow half-circle on the bar top, “but you can't discount sitting down for a good old T-bone at Ribs and Rumps for an easy Monday night steak dinner.”

I give him a look. “It's literally called Ribs and Rumps, Lance.”

“Exactly. Sometimes I just want something that does the thing it says on the box. Or in this case, the menu. And the building. In giant lettering.”

I chuckle. “Fine. It certainly does that. Only, on the other hand, 'ribs and rumps' could also pretty much describe my Tuesday Pilates class.”

He laughs and tips his glass, conceding the point. “Hey, no complaints here. Win-win.”

We knock our drinks together and move onto our favourite coffee places in the Sydney CBD.

It's easy, talking to him. No heaviness, no tension, no undertow — no pun intended. I'm enjoying getting to know him.

Aria walks past with a tray of drinks, twice, each time throwing me a wink so unsubtle I'm amazed the whole bar doesn't see it. The second time, she gets swatted away by Hunter, who adds, “Would you let the woman work?”

Lance clearly hears it. There's a small, awkward beat, and then he just laughs. “Popular around here?”

“Something like that.”

I pick up a spring roll from the appetiser platter Aria had brought out the first time she walked past, and it's halfway to my mouth when someone barrels past behind me, knocking my elbow sideways and sending the chilli-oil-dipped spring roll straight for my shirt, a streak of chilli sauce blooming across the collar.

“Oops. Classic clumsy me.” I'm already grabbing at a napkin, dabbing uselessly, which just spreads it further into the silk.

“Don't rub it, you'll set it.” Lance is already reaching for his own napkin, dunking the corner of it into his soda water. “Cold water, dab, don't scrub. My sister had triplets. If my job at the business council doesn't work out, I could make a killing as The Stain Whisperer.” He leans towards me. “May I?”

I gesture at my shirt. “Please.”

He starts gently dabbing at the collar with the soda-soaked napkin, focused like it's heart surgery. “Might come out. Might not.”

“Either way,” I say, “good excuse to buy a new shirt.”

He huffs a laugh as he gets closer to my collar, brow furrowed as he scrutinises his work. “I think we got mos⁠—”

“You know,” someone says from behind Lance, “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, since you look like a nice enough bloke.”

I know the owner of the voice even before I've looked up. And Lance straightens, a look of confusion on his face.

“But you’ve got about ten seconds to explain,” Marcus continues, folding his arms as his gaze fixes on the man's fingers still pressed to my collar, “why you've got your grubby hands all over my girlfriend.”

I stare at him, trying to process that he’s here.

Before I can say anything though, he adds, “And I’m going to give you one second to remove them.”

“Sorry, buddy,” Zachary says from his spot behind Marcus, his tone eerily pleasant. “My friend here is very particular about men touching what belongs to him.” His smile drops. “But he's a veritable teddy bear compared to me.”