Page 5 of My Best Friend’s Billionaire Brother (Billionaire Brothers #4)
Will
As the car pulls up to The Flamingo hotel, I check the group chat that Josie had created for everyone in the wedding party.
Currently, it’s full of a bunch of airplane and heart-eye emojis, mostly from the girls.
Everyone seems super stoked about the weekend.
And so am I. Definitely. I’m not at all nervous or on edge. Nope.
I’m just a bit restless. For no particular reason.
It has nothing to do with the fact that every time I’ve met with Josie over the last few weeks to plan this weekend, I’ve been unable to keep my eyes off of her.
Unable to think about her adorable dimples, the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles, the way her cleavage peaks out just a bit when she bends over.
Unable to think about all the downright horrible things I want to do to her.
The expression on her face when I do those unspeakable things, the sounds she’d make …
The Uber driver comes to a stop, and I thank him as I hop out of the car, my bag in tow.
Jesus. Get it together, Will. I’ve never had a woman take up this much real estate in my brain.
What is it about her? Is it something about the fact that I’ve known her for years?
That my attraction to her years later is coming as such a surprise?
Josie has always just been my kid sister’s best friend.
Practically another little sister I had to protect.
Where is all this attraction coming from?
Or maybe it’s because she’s off limits. Not only is she Chloe’s best friend, but she has a boyfriend. She’s a hundred percent a no-go. I can’t have her, and maybe that’s why I want her so badly.
That has to be it .
As I enter the large, pink lobby, I pull up my reservation information and head to the front desk.
We’ve reserved two large suites with multiple rooms and bathrooms—one for the girls and one for the guys.
I grab all the keycards and text the group chat the room number, letting the guys know I’ll be hanging out there until everyone arrives.
Ten minutes later, I’m up in the room, my stuff unpacked, bed claimed, scrolling through my phone. A message pops up in the group chat, and I check it. It’s from Josie. Apparently, she’s the first of the girls to arrive and is doing the same thing I’m doing—waiting in the room for everyone else.
I glance at the door, knowing the girls’ suite is across the hallway from ours. I clear my throat, turning back to my phone.
But something gnaws at the back of my brain.
Is it weird to not go say hi? We both know we’re here.
Or is that enough? Would it be weird to go say hi?
Fuck, when did I overthink and obsess about walking across a fucking hallway and saying hello to a girl?
I almost smack myself in the head, hoping to get the thoughts out.
But before I can send myself into another spiral, a soft knock sounds at the door.
I spring up, tossing my phone aside. I sit frozen for a moment before standing and striding across the room. I don’t even look through the peephole—I open the door.
And standing before me is Josie. In a green sundress.
Fuck me.
“Josie,” I manage.
“Hey, Will,” she says quietly with a somewhat hesitant smile. “Just thought I should come say hi. I’m the first of the girls here.”
I nod. “Yeah, same. Wanna come in and hang out until everyone arrives?” I don’t stutter over my words—I’ve never been one to do that—but my heart is clawing its way up my throat, my nerves on edge .
Josie widens her eyes just a tad but then nods. “Yeah, sure.”
She steps in, and as she passes me, I see that her dress barely covers her ass. Fuck. What I wouldn’t do to bend her over right now, press up against her, and—
“You got the tickets for tonight’s show, right?” Josie asks.
I swallow. “Yeah. They’re on my phone.” We’re all going to a comedy show tonight. Some comedian Chloe likes.
She nods and takes a seat on one of the large, recliner chairs, pulling her legs up underneath her. I’m sure if I looked hard enough, I could catch a glimpse of her underwear, but I’m doing everything within my power to not.
I sit back down on the bed, leaning back against the backboard.
Josie’s phone vibrates and she pulls it out. Her brows crinkle just a bit.
“Someone in the wedding party?” I ask .
She looks up, startled, and then shakes her head. “Oh. No. It’s Owen.”
The boyfriend.
I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t seem happy to be getting a text from your boyfriend.”
Her gaze darts to mine. I can’t tell if she’s angry or wants to confide in me. Or both. She purses her lips. “Relationships have rough patches. It’s normal,” she snaps.
Ah. So they’re fighting.
I shrug. “True.”
“It is ,” she insists.
“I agreed with you.”
She turns and looks out the window. Soft brown curls frame her face. She’s biting the inside of her lip.
“Do you want something to drink?” I offer, standing up.
She frowns, glancing at me .
I level her with a stare. “You look like you need a drink. Besides, Chloe needs you to be your happy-go-lucky self this weekend. So forget about lover boy. Your fight can wait until Monday.”
The corner of her mouth tugs upward ever so slightly.
I walk to the kitchenette, opening the liquor cabinet and pulling out one of the small shot bottles. “You a vodka girl?” I call over my shoulder.
“It’ll do,” she replies.
I dig around until I find some tonic water and mix together a passable drink before bringing it back to Josie. She looks up at me with those big green eyes, slightly wary but slightly grateful. She takes the glass with a soft smile. “Am I drinking alone?” she asks.
I snort, heading back to the kitchenette to fix myself a drink as well.
I hear a soft sputter from behind me. “This is strong, Will,” she says with a laugh .
Will . There it is again. My name from her lips. And now all I can think about is her moaning it, screaming it. I could definitely make her scream.
Shut the fuck up, man. Pull it together.
I turn and head back to the bed with my own drink. “You need a strong drink,” I reply.
She rolls her eyes and sips delicately.
“Here’s to a great weekend,” I say, raising my plastic cup.
She raises hers in return. “To a great weekend,” she replies with a grin. I watch as she brings the cup to her lips and drinks.
Jesus, this is going to be a long weekend.