Page 27 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

"Er...second?"

He thinks for a moment and then shakes his head. "Thought so. It's Marcus's week for cleaning. If it were Rhys's or Leon's, I'd say we could risk it. As it is? I'd rather not."

I hold up my hands. "Enough said." I sigh, leaning onto my elbows and look up at him. "Guess I won't be getting ten packets of Tim Tams."

"You weren't going to anyway. You'll see tomorrow. And then I expect to get my own ten packets of Tim Tams to make up for you doubting me."

"We'll see about that." I scoff. "How do you know about the service elevator anyway?"

The look I get is scathing. "Er, I went there, remember?"

I do remember. I remember everything he ever told me. Buelt he doesn’t need to know that. “You went there for—" I tilt my head. "What was it. Four weeks?"

"Five. And a half," he says, sniffing in indignation. "And I came away with two things. Knowledge of the laziest ways to get around campus and a very thorough understanding of why I was better suited to hospitality."

"Do enlighten me."

"When you say something quippy and irreverent in class, they give you a failing grade." He takes a long dramatic sip from his mug. "In a bar, they give you a twenty dollar tip."

I laugh. And snort.

Sudden, unguarded, and loud enough that I clap a hand over my mouth immediately after. I need to stop being amused by the things he says, dammit.

But it's too late. Zachary's eyes light up at the sound and then he's laughing as well.

"What?" I snarl.

"I made you snort!"

"Did not," I exclaim.

"Did too. And it's just as cute as it was when you were ten."

I scrunch up my nose at him which just makes him laugh even harder, so I grab my mug of what's left of my tea and pretend to storm out of the kitchen.

"No, Lex, don't leave!" he calls after me. But I just flip him off over my shoulder and keep walking.

His footsteps follow behind me out of the kitchen, his chuckles causing a tingle to trickle up my spine as we make our way through the house.

I round the corner toward my room.

And stop.

Rhys is in his doorway.

Wearing a pair of white cotton pyjama pants. No shirt. Ankles crossed, arms folded, shoulder and head tilted to rest against the frame. His dark hair is tousled, falling over his forehead and left eye. A smattering of scruff shadows his jaw. He looks like a sleepy god. And I want to fall to my knees and worship him.

His eyes are already on mine when I'm done tracing the length of his body. His expression is the same one from his office this afternoon, guarded but simmering...something I can't quite name.

Something tells me he's been standing there a while.

Zachary comes around the corner behind me, still chuckling as he says, "Lex, I have an idea for what you can give me—" He stops when he sees Rhys. "Oh. Hey, man. Didn't realise you were still up. Hope we didn't wake you with our shenanigans," he says, giving me an exaggerated wink that sends butterflies into my stomach and makes me cringe at what Rhys might think of it, all at once.

"Was just grabbing a water," Rhys says, eyes not moving from mine. "But I didn't want to interrupt...whatever was going on in there."

"Always the gentleman." Zachary pats Rhys on the shoulder as he walks toward his room. "Well, kitchen's all yours now, bro." He glances back at me over Rhys's shoulder and gives me a grin that sends the butterflies into overdrive. Then he's gone.

I turn my attention back to Rhys and we stand there in complete silence, barely breathing.