Page 34 of Filthy Rich Brother’s Best Friends (Filthy Rich Harems #5)

Reid

T his day has been dragging by like the DMV line on a Monday morning.

I’ve been waiting for the fallout since Lola stepped off the porch this morning in my jersey and nothing else. I was halfway out the door after her when Wes’s car pulled into her driveway, just as she was about to walk into her house.

I thought the whole thing would detonate before they even walked into the house.

I waited around hoping Wes would leave so that I could talk to Lola about what went down. But Lola stormed out first, got into her car and drove off like a bat out of hell. I had plans to go in with her today. That clearly wasn’t happening now.

Wes came out a little bit later. He stood there staring at our house for a few minutes. I was fully braced for him to storm over and demand answers. But he just left. And I’ve spent the rest of the day waiting for the bomb to drop.

I sent Lola a few texts.

Reid: You still want me to come to the studio?

No answer.

Reid: Lo.

A few minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty.

Finally:

Lola: Probably better if you don’t.

It wasn’t a hard no, but close enough.

Then she followed up with:

Lola: Wes saw me in your jersey this morning when I was coming back from your place. I told him I spilled something on my clothes.

Another one came right after it:

Lola: I don’t know if he bought it.

I didn’t respond. What was I supposed to say? Thanks for covering ? Sorry you had to lie? Maybe I should’ve showed up at the studio anyway. I don’t know. I’m no good at this shit.

Lola and I aren’t just hooking up. We’re in whatever the hell this is, and it’s already more serious than anything I’ve ever been in. And she’s Wes’s baby sister. I have no idea how we’re ever going to make this work.

I was too much of a coward to pursue Lola way back when. I can’t seem to tell her how I feel about her now without coming across like an ass. And telling Wes I’m not only fucking his baby sister, I’m sharing her with two of my best friends?

Yeah. That’s not fucking happening.

So where does that leave us?

I’ve spent all day waiting for Wes to storm through the front door and break my nose. He finally reaches out a little after six.

Wes: You home?

I run through a few possible responses. Nope! Forgot to tell you, I moved back to Chicago. Or Moscow. Or Mars. Anywhere that would stop him from showing up here to ask me questions I don’t want to answer.

I don’t want to lose our friendship over this. Wes has been my best friend for ten years. He’s family. But so is Lola and I’m not giving her up. Even if it means losing him.

Eventually I respond.

Reid: Yeah. Out back.

Dude was obviously laying in wait because he shows up two minutes later.

I know the second he sits across from me that this isn’t a friendly check-in. It’s an interrogation.

I am so fucked.

I lift my chin. “Beer?”

“No, thanks.”

He watches me, waiting to see if I’ll start the conversation. I don’t.

Eventually, he gives up and opens with work talk.

“How’s Miles’s ‘break year’ project going?”

“Depends on the hour,” I say. “Still figuring out how to stop the reminders from stacking when someone pauses mid-session.”

“Buggy?”

“Annoyingly so,” I say. “But we’ve seen worse.”

Wes nods. “I heard you’ve been taking on a lot of UX work.”

“Trying to keep it lean until he decides if this is something we’re actually launching or a very time-consuming hobby.”

We talk a little more about launch windows, beta feedback, someone we both know who got poached by another firm. It’s easy. Familiar. And absolutely not the reason he’s here.

“I saw Lola walking back from your place this morning.”

And there it is.

“Yeah,” I say, keeping my tone even.

“She was wearing one of your jerseys.”

“She spilled her coffee. Didn’t want to walk home soaked. Pretty sure she just grabbed the first thing she found in the dryer.”

He narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything.

My head runs through every possible version of this moment. The fight. The fallout. Will he see through my lies? Does he know I’ve been half in love with his sister since she was a teenager?

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks.

“She’s having a hard time, Wes. Between shit with her studio and her asshole roommates, she’s drowning.”

“You could’ve told me she was struggling.”

“Yeah, that would have gone over well. You know how Lola is.”

He doesn’t answer right away. I can feel him peeling back every layer looking for the lie. Deep down he knows the truth. He’s just not ready to accept it and I'm definitely not ready to tell him.

“She never asks for help, Reid. You and I both know that. You should’ve told me.”

“It wasn’t our place, Wes. She’s a big girl and if she doesn’t want to ask for your help, she doesn’t have to.” My hands curl around the bottle in my hand. “You would’ve taken over. You would’ve made decisions for her, then convinced her they were her own.”

His jaw ticks.

“She needed some support. Not someone to jump in and do everything for her,” I add, more quietly this time.

“And that’s what you’re doing?” he asks. “Supporting her?”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“That's all you’re doing?”

If I lie, he’ll know. So, I avoid answering directly. “If you want that answer, ask her .”

“I’m asking you . You’re the one who’s been my best friend for ten years.”

Wes isn’t dramatic. He doesn’t throw history around unless he wants to remind you of what’s at stake. And this one hits exactly where he wanted it to.

We’ve been through it all—college, breakups, startups, rehab, and more. He was there when I had nothing but a broken collarbone and a bottle of pills. He’s the reason I went to rehab. I would have died without his support.

I can’t give him the answer he’s looking for. Telling him the truth means giving up something I’m not ready to lose.

So I hold his stare and continue to wait him out.

Wes exhales slowly, but the tension doesn’t decrease. If anything, it gets worse. My silence is saying it all, and we both know it.

I shift forward. “She needed someone. That’s it.”

His mouth pulls into a thin line. “You’re sure that’s all it is?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say here, Wes.”

“She’s my sister , Reid.”

“She’s your sister. But she’s not a kid. She gets to choose who she leans on.”

“And you’re one of those people now?”

I don’t flinch. “Looks like it.”

“Reid—”

“It’s nothing, Wes.”

Eventually, he nods. We bullshit for a little while longer but it feels stilted.

He finally leaves and as soon as he does I’m reaching for my phone. I open the thread Jude started and named “Lola’s Harem.”

Reid: Wes is asking questions.

If we want this to continue, we need to find a way to tell him the truth. I just hope we can do it without blowing everything to hell.