Page 16 of Filthy Rich Brother's Best Friends

I shake my head and start unboxing some dishes and kitchen towels.

“She’s not my type,” I say, folding one slowly.

“What is your type?” he asks, grabbing a bottle of kombucha from the fridge and cracking the seal. “Wait, don’t tell me. Natural deodorant. Big opinions. Probably owns at least one neti pot.”

I pause. “That’s a weirdly specific list.”

“It is, but I’m right, aren’t I?”

He is. But I’m not confirming anything.

Reid takes a long drink of his disgusting vanilla protein concoction. “I’m just saying, you’ve been a little…closed off lately. And it wouldn’t kill you to let someone in. Even just to have some fun.”

I don’t answer. I stay busy, smoothing the towel edges, while my mind conjures images of a face I haven’t seen in weeks.

Lola.

That girl has been on my mind and I haven’t touched anyone since her—except for massage clients, of course. Every time I’ve tried to start a conversation with someone new I just don’t have the desire to follow through.

The night we shared was mind-blowing. No question, it was the best sex I’ve ever had…and I’ve had plenty. This is the longest dry spell I’ve had since high school and, honestly, I don’t want to break it unless it’s with her.

But she left. One moment she was asleep beside me. The next, she was gone. All that was left was the faint smell of her shampoo on my pillow.

I tell myself it’s fine. It was one night. We didn’t exchange numbers. There were no expectations.

But I think about her when I’m not busy. I think about the sounds she made when she came and the way her fingers gripped my wrist. I still have marks from her nails on my shoulder. Faint. Faded. But they’re still there.

I may or may not have contemplated accessing the spa's booking system to search for her contact information. But that's…creepy. Not to mention illegal.

I realize Reid’s still watching me, waiting for me to say something about being closed off. Not going to happen—Reid and I think very differently about this subject and there’s no point in getting into it.

“You coming to this BBQ thing?” he asks.

I nod. “Might as well.”

He grins. “Maybe Gigi’s roommates are into crystals and tai chi.”

“I’m not looking.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Maybe you should be.”

“Not tonight.”

Reid doesn’t push any more than he already has. He just finishes his drink and throws the bottle in the sink. “I’m sure Miles will want to bring some kind of organic, probiotic-rich, gluten-free something.”

“Sounds promising.”

“Sounds like I should’ve grabbed tacos on the way home.”

I laugh, a short exhale through my nose, and grab another box from the stack.

“She said they’re doing burgers.”

Reid gives me a look. “I don’t trust that girl to operate a grill though. Or a stove. Or a toaster, for that matter.”

“Fair.”

He walks past me and flicks the box I’m holding with two fingers. “I’ll let Miles know what the plan is.”