Page 43 of #Bossholes

Virginity duplicity.

Yeah, deflower is good.

I unlock the front door, open it, and immediately turn around to finish tying my tie in the hall mirror. “I’m almost ready. Sit down, have a drink, relax.”

“I’m already relaxed.” Brantley pushes past me, sitting in my recliner with a huff.

I turn, brows nearly in my hairline, watching Brant as he crosses a leg, his foot shaking about a mile a minute. “Yeah, you look very relaxed. Like you’ve had eight shots of espresso.”

“Yeah, well.” He doesn’t finish, just pushes himself up from the chair, stomping to one side of my living room and then the other. “What can I say?”

“What can you say?” I ask slowly, taking a cautious step toward him.

“Fuck if I know.”

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” he grits out, each word coming out strained. “I know what you’re doing.”

I freeze, my hands tugging on the ends of my tie. “What exactly am I doing? Trying to figure out what’s going on with you before you have a breakdown?”

He whips around, his eyes cold. “Don’t play games with me, Wyatt. I know you’re going to meet Kinsley tonight. I know you and our best friend are going to fuck her; I’m not stupid.”

“Oh, well…we, uh…” I shove my hands in my pockets. “I didn’t think you’d want to know. You told us to leave her alone.”

“Yeah, I did.” He unbuttons his suit jacket, tosses it on the couch, his footsteps only getting louder, heavier. “So, why didn’t you?”

I take the recliner and sigh as I run a hand through my hair. “I couldn’t. There’s nothing else I can say. There’s just…there’s something about her. She’s fucking beautiful; you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed her when she’s running around the office in her tight skirts and heels. Okay, maybeyouhaven’t. But it’s more than that. She’s smart, funny, and she’s the only one who’s been able to put up with all of us.”

“Of course, I notice her.” His voice raises, his arms cut through the air, and for a second he looks pained. “I can’t not notice her. It’s because she puts up with our shit that we need to leave her alone. Once you do this, there’s no going back.”

“I know.”

“What if she’s pissed when she realizes it’s the two of you? What if it’s too much?”

Those are completely valid questions, and I’d be lying if I said they hadn’t been running through my mind all day. There’sa good chance she’s going to see me and Mav and show us the door. But if there’s a tiny sliver of hope that she’ll let us into her perfect, curvy body, I have to take it. I have to.

I tried to be professional, I tried to look the other way, but she’s in my mind, under my skin, and I don’t think I want to get her out.

Maverick feels the same way. But what if…

I lean forward, eying Brantley as he turns, his pacing slowing down a fraction. “Are you mad that we’re going to meet Kinsley or mad that you’re not joining us?”

He stops, stares at me for several seconds, his jaw working back and forth.

His gaze narrows.

He huffs a breath.

He runs a hand along his jaw.

“Fuck you.” He points at me, aggressively I might add, before flinging himself down on my couch. “You’re a dick.”

“Noted. But you didn’t answer my question.”

I know my brother better than anyone, probably better than himself at times. And I know Kinsley—yes, I figured out her name—has him all twisted up. Brantley doesn’t date, not since he found his fiancée between the sheets with a man we thought was our friend. Fuck, he barely meets women in any capacity.

Granted, I don’t date much either, we’re way too busy, but Brant takes it to a whole other level. He’s so closed off, so emotionally unavailable—it’s not healthy.

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