Page 6 of My Best Friend’s Billionaire Brother (Billionaire Brothers #4)

Josie

“Can you see my underwear through this?” Chloe is turning in circles in front of the mirror, peering over her shoulder to check out her ass. She’s wearing a white sundress that falls just above her knees.

“Perfect,” Chloe says, smoothing the wrinkles and glancing at herself in the mirror again. “You never know with white.”

“Okay, is everyone ready to go?” I call, plopping my mascara wand back into the tube and tightening it. Rounds of tittering and giggles erupt from the various rooms we have in our large suite. Chloe is putting on her shoes—a pair of white espadrilles. Probably Chanel, if I had to guess.

Hannah and Maureen appear from one of the rooms, looking dressed and ready to go.

After a few minutes, Evie emerges as well.

Chloe’s other bridesmaids are all from her sorority in college.

While we went to the same school, I was never really into the sorority crowd.

Nor did I have the money to be a part of one. Those things are expensive as shit.

I glance over all the girls. Their outfits and hair are gorgeously on point. I’d guess their dresses cost more than my car.

I’d picked out a cute TJ Maxx dress and had blow dried my hair this morning .

“Okay, first thing on the agenda,” I declare, as the maid of honor and therefore ringleader of the weekend, “is brunch!”

The girls all cheer, and off we go. The guys meet us out in the hall, and all of us make our way to a fancy brunch place that Will and I had meticulously picked and had made reservations at.

A cute atmosphere for Instagram pics, as per Chloe’s demands, as well as gluten free waffles for Turner. Everyone would be happy.

I glance at Will as we make our way downstairs to wait for our Ubers. He’s wearing jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. A stupidly simple outfit, but somehow he makes it look … expensive. Suddenly his eyes dart to mine, and caught staring at him, I look away, feeling a slight blush on my cheeks. Fuck.

I think back to last night. How we’d hung out in the suite until the others arrived. We’d probably only been alone for about half an hour or so, but it had felt like an eternity. The way he’d stared at me over his glass. Was it just my imagination or had he been undressing me with his eyes?

I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. Besides, he’s notoriously hard to read. He was probably just tired after a long day of travel.

We make it to the restaurant, and there’s a bit of scrambling as we all find our seats at the large table.

All the other bridesmaids want to get a sorority group picture with Chloe, so they all end up sitting together and snapping about a million photos for Instagram.

Turner sits next to Chloe, so that means I’m wedged between Will and one of the other groomsmen.

No matter. As long as Chloe’s happy, that’s what matters.

That’s all I care about when it comes to this weekend.

Chloe orders mimosas for the table, and then we each order our brunch plates.

My phone buzzes in my pocket a few times, and I resist the urge to look at it.

I’d stopped texting Owen last night after Will had suggested so.

Because he’d been right. This weekend is about Chloe, and this fight with Owen can wait until Monday .

It’s over the stupidest thing too. He’d been over when I was packing for the trip the other night, and he’d seen some of the outfits I’d planned.

Well, one in particular. A hot pink, skintight romper.

Covered in sequins, low cut, short—very Barbie inspired.

All of us bridesmaids are wearing the same thing tonight while Chloe wears an identical version in white.

Granted, it wasn’t my idea, but rather one that one of the girls had brought up and then the whole group ran with it.

“It’s a little revealing, don’t you think?” Owen had asked.

I’d shrugged. “It’s what Chloe wants.”

And while he’d let it go for the time being, that conversation has yet to end, culminating in his demand that I promise not to wear the outfit. To be honest, it’s pissing me off. And stressing me out—I have enough to worry about this weekend.

The phone buzzes for the third time in the last few minutes, and with a sigh, I pull it from my pocket .

Owen: You know what guys are going to be thinking when they see you wearing that. And I’m not even there, Josie. It just seems disrespectful.

I grit my teeth, staring down at the text. I never took Owen for the jealous or controlling type, and this fight is honestly surprising me.

“You still texting Owen?” a deep voice asks from beside me.

I hurriedly put my phone back into my pocket. Will is looking at me with yet another unreadable expression.

“It’s fine,” I tell him with a smile. “We’re working it out.”

Will looks unconvinced.

Brunch continues, and Chloe seems to be having a fantastic time, drinking multiple mimosas, getting the “best pancakes she’s ever had,” apparently, and lots and lots of Instagram pictures. Perfect. Just what I’d hoped .

Will glances at the time on his phone, grabbing everyone’s attention with, “We’ve got a reservation in half an hour—let’s head out!”

While I’m usually up for anything, this next item on our agenda I’m not exactly the most excited for. It had been Will’s idea. An idea that both Turner and Chloe agreed with, so who was I to argue?

Our destination is only a short walk from where we had brunch, so we all head out onto the street, with Will taking the lead, following Google Maps instructions. In about twenty minutes, we’ve reached it.

A zipline over the Las Vegas strip.

My blood runs cold just looking at it. I purse my lips as a pair of screaming people fly above us, down the line. I suddenly wonder if maybe I can get out of this. Wait for everyone down here and just take pictures of them.

I briefly propose this idea to Chloe, who cries, “Oh no you don’t! You’re not getting out of this, Josie.” She grabs my shoulders, pushing me toward the building entrance. I roll my eyes and try to steel myself for the horror to come.

We head inside where Will presents our tickets and we’re instructed to take the elevator to the top floor.

Everyone chatters excitedly while I dig my nails into my palms and try not to think about hurtling through the air hundreds of feet above ground.

Chloe squeezes my arms encouragingly, and I smile the fakest smile ever in the hopes that she believes it.

At least she’s having fun, at least she’s having fun , I keep telling myself.

The elevator doors open, and we step out. We’re ushered out onto a balcony, and immediately my stomach drops.

Jesus Christ.

Okay, it’s not the tallest zipline in the world. We’re only a few stories up, and the slope is gradual. By the looks of it, there’s a motor that pulls you across. But I’m not a fan of heights, and this is way out of my comfort zone .

“The zipline is two at a time,” someone is saying, although I’m partially blocking them out, taking in the view of the strip before me. I can see The Flamingo from here, as well as the dozens of other hotels and attractions lining the street. “Simply sit in the seat and hold on.”

There’s a bit of bustling as everyone starts talking amongst themselves.

It takes me a moment to realize that everyone is choosing zipline partners.

I glance around for Chloe, only to see that she’s already been snagged up by another bridesmaid.

I look around at the other girls but quickly remember that we’re an odd numbered group.

Great. I’ll have to go with one of the groomsmen.

I twirl around to face the guys. They’re still chatting amongst themselves, but it slowly dawns on me that someone else is in the exact same situation that I’m in.

Will.

Perfect. Not only do I have to go hurtling through the air, but I have to do it with William Summers. I approach and shoot him a tight-lipped smile. “I guess it’s you and me.”

He shrugs. “Guess so.”

Chloe and Hannah are up first. They giggle as they ascend the small staircase up to the two seats hanging from the wire. The entire thing sinks just a bit as they sit down. They swing slightly back and forth, which makes my stomach flip just looking at it.

The zipline operator hooks them in and then counts down before setting it off, and Chloe and Hanna fly off with a shriek. I ball my fists at my sides, making the conscious decision to turn away while the rest of the pairs take off.

I hear them as they zip away, pair by pair.

A touch to my shoulder startles me, and I look up to see Will staring down at me, his eyebrows crinkled together. “Are you okay?” he asks, and I realize his frown might not be from irritation, but from concern.

“Uh, yeah,” I say quickly.

“You’re nervous. ”

I force out a laugh, but it sounds almost more like some kind of dying animal.

“Look, it’s not that high, and it’s a quick ride,” he says. His voice is somehow … softer than I’ve ever heard it. He’s speaking quietly, his tone low.

I bite my lip, turning to see the last set of groomsmen climb into the seats and strap themselves in. “Yeah …” I say quietly.

The two groomsmen zip off with a shout of laughter, and I watch as they fly into the distance. A few minutes later, the chairs are slowly pulled back up, and the operator ushers us forward.

I swallow hard. I can feel Will’s eyes on me, but he steps forward first, walking up the small set of stairs and then turning back to me. He holds out his hand.

I stare up at him, surprised. Is he actually being … nice to me? Not that he’s ever been terrible, but … wow.

I take a deep breath and reach for his hand. He grips mine firmly, his skin warm to the touch. I walk unsteadily up the stairs and take a seat. The chair wobbles from my weight, dangling from the wire above me. I suck in a breath and close my eyes.

I feel Will taking his seat beside me, and I open my eyes to see the attendant strapping us both in. He steps back. “Ready?”