Page 25 of My Brother's Best Friends

“Do you think he’ll be upset if we get together with her?” Alex asks.

I glance at the two closed doors across the room—one Makayla’s, the other Oscar’s.

“Does it really matter if Bryan cares? We’re not in high school anymore.” I shrug. “She’s an adult; she can make her own decisions.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to make things hard on her or strain our friendship with him. Starting something with Makayla without Bryan’s blessing could backfire. Eventually we’ll have to step out of the bedroom and face her family,” Alex says. “Right?”

“Of course.” My heart thuds just picturing that day. It’ll come—with her it has to—and the thought scares and exhilarates me in equal measure.

“Maybe we should follow Oscar’s lead on this,” Alex says with a sigh. “Maybe this way no one gets hurt. Not Kay, not Bryan, not any of us, for that matter.”

“I won’t argue, but three of us are already on board—more than on board.”

“Now all we have to do is convince Oscar,” Alex replies with a cool grin.

“I will,” I promise. “As soon as he hauls his ass out here.”

As if on cue, Oscar opens his bedroom door. Out of his suit and tie and looking comfortable in jeans and a knitted sweater, he gives each of us a curious look.

“Everyone ready? Where’s Kay?” he asks.

“Speak of the devil—you summoned her,” I quip as Makayla steps in, dangerously gorgeous in painted-on jeans and a red sweater that barely grazes her midriff. I didn’t expect to be this turned on by her being clothed, but here we are.

And I can’t wait to peel those clothes off her and let them pool in a heap on my bedroom floor.

Alex rises, just as mesmerized. Oscar’s eyes widen; he can’t stop tracking her as she saunters to the coffee table. If she notices our blatant staring, she doesn’t seem bothered. She slips her hands into her back pockets and flashes us a brilliant smile.

“Are we ready to go?” she asks.

“Sure,” I agree, stumbling over the word.

“Great. Let’s go—I’m starving.”

Tension hums in the air, sharp with want. Still, she has a point—we need real food. I set my bottle down while Alex drains the last of his soda, and we file out the door.

“Do you have your keycard?” I ask Makayla.

“Got it,” she replies, holding it up.

“I’ve got one too.” Oscar’s attempt at conversation is so awkward it’s almost cute.

I start to roll my eyes, but Alex elbows me in the ribs. One quick look tells me everything—give Oscar some breathing room withMakayla. He’s right; if Oscar can break the ice, the rest of us can follow.

I hang back as we head down the hall, letting Oscar and Makayla take the lead. It feels strange after what happened earlier, but soon enough conversation flows easily.

“How was your flight?” Oscar asks politely.

“I’ve had better,” Makayla replies. “I’m glad I made it, though.”

“Really? Ours was pretty smooth,” he mutters, making it hard for me not to roll my eyes again.

“Oh, I had some issues with mine. Ended up boarding a different plane with a layover in London,” she says.

At least she’s keeping the conversation afloat, no matter where he clumsily steers it. Bless his giant heart.

“Where were you laid over in London? Heathrow?”

“Yes. I’d love to see more of London soon. I’ll bet photos and travel blogs don’t do it justice,” she says.

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