Page 8 of My Best Friend’s Billionaire Brother (Billionaire Brothers #4)

Josie

“Shots!” Evie yells, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Shots, shots, shots!” Maureen and Hannah chime in.

Chloe laughs contagiously, jumping up from the couch we’re sitting on in a crowded bar on the strip, her sash with the word Bride emblazoned with rhinestones glittering in the lamplight.

The rest of us are wearing matching Bridesmaid sashes, and because of them, we’ve received more attention and free drinks than I ever thought possible.

I follow the girls up to the bar where Maureen orders us all shots of tequila .

After a few moments, with shot glasses in hand, we raise them to the sky and then down them.

“Whoo!” I cry, shaking my head as the tequila burns its way down my throat. It heightens the buzz I already have, tipping me closer and closer to drunk. Or maybe I already am drunk. Who knows at this point?

It’s late into the night. Late enough that I refuse to check the time on my phone, knowing it won’t do me any good. After seeing a burlesque show and hopping around from bar to bar, the five of us have been partying hard.

Chloe bumps into me, wrapping me into a hug and giggling. I somehow find it the funniest thing in the world, and I laugh along, cackling even louder when we stumble and almost fall. This gets the other girls laughing, and soon we’re all a ridiculous chorus and giggles.

“Ooooh, I wonder what the boys are up to,” Chloe shouts over the loud music .

We’d parted ways with the guys after dinner, venturing off into our separate bachelor and bachelorette parties.

“Probably drinking somewhere,” Hannah says with a giggle.

“I miss Turner,” Chloe says with an exaggerated sad face, slumping against me drunkenly.

“This is your bachelorette!” Evie cries. “No men allowed.”

“But I loooooove him,” Chloe retorts and then falls into yet another fit of giggles.

She pulls out her phone, and it takes me a second to realize she’s texting.

A few moments later, the screen lights up again.

“Ah!” she screams. “They’re at a strip club!

” She breaks out into more laughter. “No fair, I wanna go to a strip club too.”

“We can go to a strip club,” Evie offers, pulling out her phone to start searching.

“I wanna go to their strip club,” Chloe insists.

“Where is it?” Maureen asks .

Chloe spends a few seconds fiddling around on her phone, checking Turner’s location and then searching strip clubs in the area. “Oh my gosh, it’s right next door,” she says, and then bends over, cackling drunkenly.

“We have to at least go say hi then,” Evie declares, looking at the rest of us for agreement.

I’m pretty apathetic about the whole strip club experience, but what I really don’t want to do is see Will.

We haven’t spoken since I told him off after the zipline adventure.

We’d pretty much avoided each other the rest of the day, and then when our groups split up, I was relieved to no longer have to think about his presence.

And now Chloe wants to go join them? And Evie too?

Well, I guess that’s not particularly surprising considering she and one of the groomsmen have been making major eyes at each other all weekend. Ugh.

I resign myself to my fate as Maureen goes up to the bar to close out our tab, and then we’re back out on the street.

We walk a block through the dazzling lights of Vegas, past other groups of drunk tourists, until we reach the club.

We’re stopped at the door where we have to present IDs and pay a small cover charge.

Then we enter the club and start scanning the area.

There’s a large stage in the center with poles and dancers in various stages of undress.

Runways jet out from all four corners of the stage, each with a pole and a dancer at the end.

The lights are all pointing at the stage, and bright, making the rest of the room, filled with chairs and couches, somewhat obscured.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually Chloe squeals, “Over there!” She points to the other end of the room.

I take her word for it and follow the group as we weave our way through.

We finally make it to a clump of couches in the corner where Turner, upon seeing us emerging from the crowd, throws his hands up and yells in greeting.

He’s obviously just as drunk as Chloe is.

She squeals and throws herself onto his lap. “Have you had a lap dance yet, baby?” she asks, wiggling on top of him. They both erupt into laughter .

The guys greet us, scooching around on the couches to make room. Evie makes a beeline for the one she’s been flirting with all day, and I scurry to sit anywhere but next to Will, ending up squashed between Maureen and one of the groomsmen named Jack.

The group starts chatting amongst themselves, and I just lean back against the couch, closing my eyes momentarily. The buzz I’d had earlier is definitely turning into actual drunkenness. That last shot really did it for me.

“I’ll go up to the bar and grab us all drinks,” Jack offers, standing up.

“I’ll go with you,” Maureen declares.

It takes a few seconds for me to realize that with Jack gone, there’s no one between me and Will.

Damnit. And … now that I look around, where’s Evie?

I glance around, but the huddle of couches that was just occupied a second ago by everyone in the wedding party just has Will, me, and Turner and Chloe—and th ey’re on the opposite end, practically ten feet away, making out.

I sigh in frustration, refusing to look in Will’s direction. The music is loud enough that it isn’t exactly awkward to be alone with Will, but it certainly isn’t comfortable either.

The dancer on the stage in front of us catches my eye.

She walks out across the catwalk, to the pole barely five feet from us.

Slowly, she twirls around it, her long hair falling to her butt.

It’s now that I sneak a glimpse at Will beside me.

He’s watching her, but in a cool, calculated sort of way.

I can’t tell if there’s desire in his expression or merely mild interest.

But what do I care?

“You know, you might think my boyfriend is an asshole,” I say, to which he turns and levels me with one of his unreadable expressions.

“But at least I’m getting it regularly.” It’s definitely the alcohol talking.

I would never say something like this sober, and I know it.

But Will is single—at least I’m assuming so based on the fact that he isn’t taking anyone to the wedding, and the way he’s eyeing that girl up there?

Well, let’s just say I’m not above hitting below the belt.

He raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “What make you think I’m not regularly getting it ?” He says the last words slowly, as if he likes how they taste on his lips.

I feel myself redden, and I turn away, back to the dancer on the pole.

She’s backed her ass up to it, holding the pole behind her for support as she leans over.

Her breasts, covered only in flamboyant nipple tassels, dangle provocatively below her.

The sight of her only makes me blush harder. Or maybe it’s the alcohol.

Fuck.

“You know, you could be getting laid by an actually decent boyfriend,” Will says, and I realize he’s moved closer. Almost close enough to touch. “And honestly, based on the vibe I’m getting, does he even get you off? ”

I snap my head in his direction, my mouth open in shock.

There’s that infuriating smirk again. “Based on that reaction, I’m going to assume the answer is, at best, sometimes .”

“No, that’s not—” I stammer, but I’m having a hard time concentrating when Will is looking at me like this. Like how he’d looked at the dancer just moments before, only this time it’s like … he wants to devour me. Like a fucking panther. Like I’m some piece of meat.

“Do you ever scream his name, Josie?” Will asks, his voice low, so low I almost wonder if I made it up.

“And not for show, not to please him, not because you think you’re supposed to,” he towers over me, staring me down, “but because you can’t help yourself?

Because you can’t think of any other word? ”

My breath hitches in my throat, and my face is burning. Fuck, it’s hot in here. Is it supposed to be this hot? “Yes,” I breathe, forcing the word out of me whether it’s true or not. Because any other answer would mean giving Will the satisfaction of winning this stupid, stupid conversation.

His eyes twinkle, and he snorts. “You’re a bad liar, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? What the fuck? How patronizing? But what’s worse than him using that nickname was the way my lower belly clenched when he said it. Shit, I need to get out of here. This night needs to end. Now.

“Take my advice,” Will says, leaning in so I can better hear him over the music. His breath tickles my ear, my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Is this the closest he’s ever been to me? “Find a man who’s more interested in making you come than in what you’re wearing.”

I only have a moment to register the shock before Will is leaning back up and suddenly Maureen and Jack are waltzing back over, drinks in hand.

“Here you go,” Maureen says, handing me some pink, fruity-looking thing before plopping down beside me .

“Thank you,” I mutter quietly, still in shock. I look to my side to see that Will and Jack have struck up a conversation, chatting away like he didn’t just say the most inappropriately insane things to me.

I turn back to my drink, taking a big, long sip. The dancer continues to twirl on the pole in front of us, everything on display.

Chloe has disentangled herself from Turner and has now joined Maureen and me. “Best bachelorette weekend ever,” she gushes, leaning over to squeeze my arm.

“Yeah,” I say on autopilot. “Best weekend ever.”