Page 13 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

“You’re late.” Her eyes sweep over me with the disdain of a woman who already regrets breathing the same air.

I smirk, shifting my weight onto one hip. “What can I say? Had to mourn the death of my platinum card.”

Her arms cross. That blazer pulls deliciously tight across her chest, revealing just enough of the swell of her cleavage to distract a lesser man. Hell, even a better one.

“Do not make this harder than it already is.”

“Too late, sweetheart. You opened the door, and every part of me stood at attention.”

And I’m not even lying.

Her glare could peel paint off the walls.

I step inside summoning all my will power to make it look like I own the place, even though technically, I’m squatting under duress.

The apartment is sleek with its cool-toned furniture, sterile lighting, and that vaguely feminine scent I’d bottle if I could. It’s all so very Sophie: curated, pristine, controlled…everything I’m not.

I’m chaos in a tailored jacket, and she’s the hurricane pretending to be a well-organized calendar.

And now I get to wreck it. Beautiful.

I toss my bag onto the floor, right in the middle of her perfect hallway.

“Which room’s mine, boss?” I drag the word out just to watch her flinch.

She spins on her heel, jaw locked. “Let’s get something straight.”

I lean against the wall, watching her like she’s the most fun I’ve had in days. “Oh, please do.”

“No girls. No parties. No drinking. No disappearing acts. No one in or out without my say-so. You don’t touch my things. You don’t mess with my schedule. No loud music. No sleeping all day. No shirtless lounging in common areas. No excessive cologne. And if you even think about bringing a stray woman into this apartment—”

“What if she’s very clean?”

“Then I’ll staple your balls to the welcome mat.”

I grin. “God, I missed you and your obsession with my balls.”

She takes a breath, clearly restraining herself from throwing something sharp at my face. “I'm serious. This isn’t summer camp, Alessio. You’re not here to have fun.”

I saunter past her toward the kitchen. “Shame. I brought marshmallows.”

She follows me in, her steps sharp and angry. “And don’t touch my stuff.”

“Even your panties?” My eyes flick toward the hem of her blazer.

Her glare sharpens. “Try it. I dare you.”

We’re toe-to-toe now, the air between us charged and heavy.

Her pulse jumps at her throat.

Mine hammers beneath my smirk.

I could kiss her.

Shouldn’t.

Fuck, I want to. Crave it.

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