Her Brother’s Billionaire Best Friend (Her Billionaire #1)

Chapter TWENTY

(Matthew)

“Absolutely not.”

I grimaced at the firmness of Scott’s tone. Because it wasn’t like he was in a position to exert any power over the situation. “I’m not asking permission. This is a courtesy call. As requested.”

Scott had gone back and forth on his opinion of how much he wanted to know about things between Charlotte and I. He certainly never wanted details, but he didn’t like not knowing if the relationship still existed. So, he and I had made a gentleman’s agreement that if I intended to “court” his sister, I would let him know. And while I didn’t agree that what I had planned was “courting,” leaving the country with his little sister was something I had to be honest about. It wasn’t like she would be able to take a two-week vacation without him finding out.

“It’s one thing to hook up with my sister. It’s a totally different thing to take her to your pervert resort,” he argued.

“How is it any different than the cruise?” I countered, though it was a lot different from the cruise.

“It’s a lot different from the cruise!” Scott exclaimed. “We went on the cruise to celebrate dad’s sixty-fifth birthday, not for Charlotte to get fucked. She found a way to multi-task. And you and I both know that some weird shit goes on down there at your place.”

“Weird, but totally consensual shit.” I wasn’t going to have this argument with him. Charlotte was a grown woman. She could make her own choices.

Of course, I was a grown man. And here I was, making choices that were hurting my friend.

And why? Because I liked to have sex with his sister? There were a million other women in the world I’d also like having sex with. And none of those women would cause conflict between Scott and I.

But none of those women were Charlotte. And I—

Oh no.

"Scott..." I almost couldn't say it because it was tantamount to admitting he'd been right all along. "I like her."

"Come on!"

"I'm sorry! I don't know how it happened. It just happened. I like being around her. She's funny and she's—"

"Going to break your heart, you fucking dick!" Scott shouted. "I told you, everybody falls for her. But she's not looking for any kind of commitment."

"I know that. And I respect it." I certainly didn't want to dive into anything serious at the moment, either. "I got cheated on. My heart is already broken. But spending time with Charlotte is fun. We get each other."

"I knew you would." Scott sounded like a man who regretted every life choice he'd made so far. "Charlotte is an objectively awesome person. I get why you would want to hang out and have fun with her. But you live for commitment."

"Maybe Charlotte can teach me how to get past that. I'm trying to explain to you, as you requested, that your sister and I are in a relationship. We're friends We hang out and we flirt and yes, we have sex. And I wish I could tell you that it's no problem, I'll stop seeing her, but I... I can't do that." I could do that. I just didn't want to let her go.

"Are you telling me that my best friend is replacing me with my sister?" Scott chuckled, but it wasn't convincing. "Bros before hoes."

"First, don't call your sister a hoe. Second, no, you're not being replaced. A few phone calls and texts aren't going to erase two decades of history. Are you really that insecure?" I was kind of insulted that my loyalty wasn't obvious. Facing up to the fact that it was my fault, my own behavior, that he doubted my commitment to our friendship wasn't pleasant. I pushed that right down into the vault where I kept all the other unpleasant shit I didn't want to do any self-reflection about.

"Of course, I'm insecure," he answered without hesitation. "Dude, the person I was about to legally and symbolically combine my life with for the rest of time decided to give it a pass at the very last minute. I'm questioning everybody. I was left at the altar while simultaneously watching my best friend get mauled by a bear at the exact same time I found out he'd fucked my sister."

I winced. "Fair enough."

"You humiliated Charlotte and now you're both like, oh, water under the bridge," he went on. "She's falling for it because she doesn't have the self-esteem to tell you how fucked up that is."

It seemed a little unfair to hold me accountable for things I’d said during a bear attack, but I let him continue spilling out the emotions that had been accumulating since that day. Even though we'd been in contact again for a while, there had been no denying the latent tension surrounding this whole Charlotte situation.

He’d shocked me with the allegation that I was somehow taking advantage of her lack of self-esteem. It was difficult to believe that such a confident person didn’t have a good opinion of herself.

Scott went on. “She acts like she’s tough and that everything rolls off her back. And it’s very cool and it draws people in, but it’s not who she is. It’s an apology to the world for existing, and I hate that I’m the cause.”

“Because of the bone marrow thing,” I said, the pieces coming together.

“Exactly. She’s eager to please everyone because she feels like she let us all down. And there’s nothing I can do to make it right.” He let out a long, sad breath. “Look, she and I both found out about it at the same time, and it messed us both up.”

That was a part of the story I’d certainly never heard. “Wait, you guys didn’t know?”

“We were never supposed to find out.” He scoffed. “Why would anyone tell a kid that?”

“Somebody told you.”

“Yeah.” The memory hung like a weight from his voice. “It was a stupid thing a relative said in front of us because they thought we knew, too. I don’t know why they would think that. But Charlotte was eight when she found out.”

I hissed in sympathy, not only for Scott, but for Charlotte. I knew too well what it was like to have something shatter one’s childhood innocence.

But that was also in the vault. I’d never told Scott or anyone else. And I wouldn’t, now.

“She’s twenty-five,” Scott went on. “Do you remember what it was like to be twenty-five?”

“Yeah, nobody had to rush me to the ER because I opened a door too enthusiastically or sneezed with my head turned.” It wasn’t the time to be flippant but the turn in the conversation had unnerved me. This was not a standard over-protective brother. This was an angle of my friendship with Charlotte that I’d never considered. “I know there’s baggage there. I didn’t realize how serious. But again, Charlotte and I are friends. We can talk about this.”

Could we? Or would she brush me off?

“Nobody can talk to Charlotte,” Scott answered my unspoken question with something like resignation. “I mean, if you can, that would be good for her. But she’s built this shell around her… None of us have ever been able to get in.”

I didn’t want to suggest that I would be the one who succeeded. It wouldn’t just be insulting; it would be dishonest. I couldn’t commit to saving anybody when so much of my private self was unsalvageable.

And the worst part was, I wanted to try. Not because I wanted to prove anything to Scott or to myself, but because the thought of Charlotte being unhappy made me instantly miserable.

“I had no idea about any of this. I’ll definitely keep it in mind. But all I want to do is show your sister a good time. Tropical beach, a drink with a little umbrella in it, and good company,” I promised.

“Yeah, that’s it. You’re not going to do anything else,” he muttered.

“That’s none of your business and you don’t want to know about it, per our earlier conversations.” I was following our agreement to the letter, so he had to, as well. “You’re afraid this is going to go badly. I get that. And I’m overstepping so many boundaries. I understand that, too. I’m being a selfish asshole—”

“Thank you.”

“But,” I said firmly, “I l—”

“No!”

“Like,” I said, but my stomach lodged in my throat. “I like your sister a lot and this arrangement is making both of us happy. Why, other than the fact that she’s your little sister, do you have a problem with this?”

“I don’t know! It’s got to be in the bro code, right?” Scott sputtered.

“We’re almost forty years old.” Too old for anything like a “bro code.”

Fifteen years older than Charlotte. Was I one of those creepy guys who were only attracted to extremely young women?

I shook myself out of that preposterous thought. I’d had sexual relationships with women older than me. I’d never specifically sought out any sex partner based on their youth.

“Again. You’re forty. She’s twenty-five. I wish… Look, I want you to be happy, I want Charlotte to be happy.”

“But not together.”

“No, that’s not it.” He sighed in frustration. “I want you to be traditionally happy. I want to know that if you’re interested in her, you’re serious about her.”

I was starting to understand the real issue. “You want to see into the future.”

“I’ve had enough change in my life, okay? I want some things to stay the same.”

A shock of clarity hit me. An unpleasant one. My stomach turned. How could I have let things get this far? Nothing I had done concerning Charlotte had been okay, from the very first moment I’d talked to her. I’d promised my friend something and broke that promise less than twelve hours later. And despite knowing that Scott wasn’t fully okay with what was going on, I’d ignored his discomfort. He’d been reeling from being left at the altar and most of our conversations had centered around me trying to convince him that it was cool for me to fuck his sister.

I needed to break things off with Charlotte.

* * * *

“Did you tell that woman from the other night that I was your girlfriend?”

I blinked at Charlotte’s accusatory tone and expression via Facetime. “No?”

She narrowed her eyes.

“I didn’t,” I swore. And I hadn’t. “I told her you were one of my regular partners. She confused that with ‘girlfriend.’ Which, by the way, is why Amanda won’t be happening again.”

Charlotte pressed her hand to her collar bones and heaved a huge sigh of relief. “Thank god.” She quickly added, “Not about the not seeing her again part. I don’t care who you see.”

While I supposed that should be reassuring, something about Charlotte made me want her to care. “It would be okay if you were a little jealous.”

She laughed. “Oh, is that a wounded ego I’m hearing?”

“You know, most phone calls start out with ‘hello.’” I was a little taken aback by the ferocity with which she objected to being called my girlfriend. No, more than taken aback. I was nearly offended.

And I had no right to be. Because that wasn’t the relationship we had, and it wasn’t an eventuality, either. We’d both been very clear on what we were.

I was calling to break up with her. I shouldn’t care if she wanted to be my girlfriend or not.

“Hello,” she said sweetly. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“I know, sorry about the total lack of notice.” On the other hand, it was far better than a “we need to talk” text.

“You don’t need an appointment to fuck me, Mr. M.”

Her giggle destroyed me.

“This isn’t a sex call, I’m afraid.” The expression, “like ripping off a band-aid” came to mind. But I was the kind of flinching coward who never ripped them off. “I talked to your brother—”

“Oh, weird. I just got done talking to him, myself.” Did she sound extra bubbly or did I notice her cheerfulness more because I knew I would have to wreck it all?

“Talk about anything interesting?” I fished.

“We talked about you.” Her expression turned serious. “He’s worried that I’m going to emotionally destroy you.”

“He’s worried that I’m going to do the same to you,” I said grimly.

“You’re calling to break this off, right?” she asked bluntly.

“Did he tell you that?” How the hell had he known?

Her face fell and froze. “I told him I didn’t want that. And I was hoping you didn’t want that, either.”

“I don’t.” A tide of relief swelled against the dam of resolve I’d built around my Charlotte-related emotions. I held it back. “But should we? For him?”

“No!” She shook her head firmly. Then all the resolve went out. “Maybe? On my end, it doesn’t matter. He’s my brother, not my keeper, and he doesn’t own you. But you’re his best friend and there’s obviously a different code of conduct there.”

“Plus, he got left at the altar.”

“Which is affecting his ability to reason,” she said with an eye roll. “I love my brother. I know you love him, too. But it’s ridiculous that two grown adults are tiptoeing around the feelings of a third, fully uninvolved person.”

That was reasonable. Too reasonable.

“I think you’re talking me out of canceling,” I admitted reluctantly.

“You’d better not cancel the trip you promised me,” she threatened. “If I’m not fucking you, I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone else. It seems unfair to rob me of that chance.”

The thought of her going to Ascend Red without me seemed more unfair. And unacceptable. Of course, she would be able to find other sex partners there. But I didn’t want her to have sex with them. I wanted her to have sex with me. Or, with me and them.

“I think what we need to talk about here is whether or not we’re actually hurting Scott,” she went on. “Or if he’s hurting himself because it’s easier to be concerned and overly involved in our sex lives than it is to deal with the end of his own relationship.”

Now that she mentioned it… “I guess I hadn’t thought of it like that but maybe you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. Not just because I want a vacation,” she added with a sly raise of her eyebrow.

“And not because you think you have to please everyone?” I asked cautiously. “Scott suggested that might be the case.”

“If I were trying to please everyone, wouldn’t that include Scott?”

I didn’t have an answer for that.

“I know I’m screwed up, okay?” she said, an undercurrent of brokenness beneath her words that I identified too easily. “But that doesn’t mean that every action I take is due to the thing that screwed me up. Scott feels responsible for anything and everything that’s ever gone even slightly wrong in my life, and that’s nice of him, I guess, but it’s not okay to butt into my private life to protect me from myself. If you want to call this off out of loyalty to my brother, I can’t force you not to. But I’ll think you’re making a shitty choice, and I will still be expecting those plane tickets.

“Fair enough.” I took a deep breath and made a split-second decision. “I’m not calling it off. But let’s not tell Scott that.”

“You want to lie to your best friend?” She seemed patently unimpressed.

“No. I want to stop discussing the subject with him. Unfortunately, I made a gentleman’s agreement—”

“Ah, an agreement between ‘gentlemen’ about a totally unaware, female third party. That’s not gross, creepy, or infantilizing at all,” she snapped.

“Now that I hear it out loud, it does sound…”

“Misogynistic? Archaic? Outright unacceptable?” There was no humor or teasing present. "First and final warning: that behavior is what’s going to end this arrangement. Not my brother.”

“Noted. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“As long as you can it admit it, we can be on the same page about it.” She rubbed her forehead, a similar gesture of frustration to one I’d seen her brother make tons of times. “I like what we have.”

“I like what we have, too.”

‘Then let’s not end it. And we’ll stop talking about it and maybe everyone will politely ignore it until it goes away,” she said hopefully.

“That sounds like an unhealthy tactic,” I pointed out. And I didn’t want it to go away.

“Stick with me, kid. I can teach you all about unhealthy.” She made a finger gun and a clicking noise.

“I have no doubt about that, princess.” My chest ached suddenly. I went through my mental list of blood clot symptoms; I was still a little jumpy about those. It was almost worse to realize I was fine, just emotional, precisely what I’d decided not to be about Charlotte.

“Look, I have to go to work,” she said, glancing off-screen. “Are we cool again? Not breaking it off?”

“We’re cool again.” Technically, I was more selfish than cool, but I couldn’t resist her.

“Wanna do something dirty when I get off work?” She brightened at the prospect.

“Sure thing. Call me.” For her, I would drop whatever I had going on.

We ended the call, and I hung my head. I’d wanted to the right thing. Be the bigger man and a better friend.

But I wasn’t a better man. I was weak, and at the moment, Charlotte was my biggest weakness.