Page 46 of Filthy Rich Brother's Best Friends

I leave the tequila on the counter and step out the back door without bothering to put shoes on. I walk off the patio and dig my toes in the damp grass. I don’t stop walking until the patio light fades behind me and the yard starts to blur in the shadows.

I’m alone. I’m always alone and part of me is so tired of it. Reid is right. I never ask for help. But I never feel like I can.

I’m starting to really feel the alcohol now. My skin is flushed and I’m swaying a little.

This was probably not the best idea. I’m not a happy drunk. I have only two settings when it comes to too much alcohol: weepy drunk and horny drunk. Sometimes they happen at the same time. I once cried because I couldn’t get my pants off fast enough. Surprisingly, the guy didn’t run for the hills. He did leave before dawn, though.

Looks like weepy is up first. I can already feel the sting building behind my eyes. My whole life is falling apart and I have no idea how to stop it. And I was never taught how to ask for help.

Wes and I didn’t come from much. And while my parents were kind and loving, they weren’t soft. They believed in self-reliance. I was praised for figuring things out on my own and not making waves.

Feelings were something you pushed past, not something you talked about. We coped by moving forward, whether we were ready emotionally or not. I don’t know how to do it any other way.

But I’ve done everything I was supposed to do and it doesn’t matter. Wes never had to work as hard as I do. The boy genius was coding by the time he was twelve. He sold his first app at twenty-two for a six figure sum.

He paid for my education. Then he gave me the seed money I needed to start my studio. Asking for more is…I just can’t do that. And admitting I’m overwhelmed would be admitting I can’t handle it. I don’t do that.

Suddenly I’m not alone anymore. I don’t even have to look to know who it is. Jude has this presence about him I can feel long before I ever see him.

He steps close enough that our shoulders are brushing. “Rough night?”

I look at him. “That obvious?”

He smiles as he reaches out and brushes a piece of hair from my cheek. His fingers barely graze my skin, but it’s enough to undo me. I can’t even stop myself from leaning into his touch.

His thumb strokes down my jawline until it presses under my chin. He searches my eyes when they meet his. When he leans in and kisses me, I don’t stop him. I kiss him back.

I lean in as he pulls me closer. His thumb lifts my chin, angling my face just right before his mouth takes mine deeper. His arm slides around my waist and holds me there. For a moment, I let myself get lost in it.

I reach up around his neck. His hand slides from my chin to my throat and the kiss starts to slow. Things start to move toward something more?—

But then he pulls back.

Jude rests his forehead against mine. “Not like this,” he whispers. “You deserve better than a half-drunk hookup.”

I don’t argue. He’s right. Even if I still want the half-drunk kisses…and a whole lot more. But I’m barely holding myself together. And even though part of me wants the distraction, I know this isn’t how I want it to be.

Jude has the potential to be something real. I know that I don’t have the time or energy for a relationship, and I’m worried that if I keep pushing him away I’ll lose my chance with him. And I don’t want to miss out on him.

“Okay.” I tip my head forward until it rests against him.

He pulls me in even closer, one hand rubbing my back, gently pushing into stiff muscles. For the first time in a long time, I take a deep breath.

Chapter 13

Jude

I’m at Lola’s door with two smoothies in my hands.

I’m definitely not playing it cool right now. It’s barely eight in the morning. The neighborhood is still quiet and there isn’t a single light on inside Lola’s house. I’m hoping that means her roommates are still asleep. But there’s a good chance Lola is too.

She wasn’t exactly sober when I walked her up to her room last night.

I thought about staying, but I didn’t know how she’d feel waking up and finding me there. So I left and now I'm showing up first thing in the morning.

I probably should have texted first. And there’s a chance she is going to be uncomfortable with the fact that I stalked her social media until I found a post that described her favorite smoothie.

This was probably a dumb idea.