Page 60 of Filthy Rich Brother's Best Friends

I convinced myself none of it meant anything. Because I always thought she wanted someone else.

"What?" she asks, catching me staring.

"Nothing," I say, shaking my head. "I just...I don't understand how I could have missed it. I notice everything about you."

Her eyebrows lift slightly. "Everything?"

Heat creeps up my neck. I've said too much.

"I mean, not in a weird way," I backtrack, but the damage is done.

Lola sits up straighter, the hoodie sliding further up her thighs. "What kind of things do you notice?”

Okay, what do I admit to without seeming too creepy?

“I notice how you always made enough food to feed an army for group dinners. Or how you'd stay late to clean up after parties, even the ones you swore you didn’t want to be at. I notice how you tap your index finger against your thumb when you’re nervous. Just little things like that.”

I pray that she doesn’t ask me to continue.

My throat tightens.

“I didn’t think you saw me,” I say. “But I saw you.”

Her fingers are still curled around the edge of the hoodie sleeves. I’m too scared to meet her eyes after everything I just said. I’m about to take it all back when she moves.

She slides to the edge of the bed. I watch as her legs unfold and her toes reach the floor. The sleeves slip down past her wrists as she pushes up to stand, and for a second she doesn’t move.

Then she steps forward.

One step. Then another. Until she’s standing between my knees, close enough that I can see the smudge of mascara under her eyes.

I don’t move a muscle. When she looks down at me, there’s something raw in her expression.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispers.

Neither do I.

I know what I should say—something logical and responsible. I should acknowledge Wes and Reid and Jude and every other reason this shouldn’t be happening. Nothing comes out of my mouth though.

I reach up, fingers brushing her waist, then sliding higher. I thread one hand into her hair and feel her take a sharp breath as I pull her closer.

And then I kiss her.

She stiffens in my arms for just a moment before she melts into me. The sound she makes vibrates against my lips. It’s a low hum that starts at the base of her throat and coils through both of us. Her lips taste like salt and citrus.

I want more. Ineedit.

My fingers move through her hair and I gently tug it. I kiss her harder. She answers with a soft gasp and moves forward, her weight folding into mine until she’s sinking against me.

Heat surges through me. Every place she touches blazes. My pulse hammers in my ears, but the world narrows to the feel of her mouth and the quiet, breathless sounds she makes when I deepen the kiss.

I pull back just enough to look at her. I need to know if this is real. It doesn’t feel real. I’ve spent years imagining what this exact moment would feel like. The reality of it is even better than I could ever have imagined.

I search her face for the truth. There’s no fear in her eyes, no hesitation at all.

I kiss her again before I can stop myself. It’s slower this time, deeper. I want to savor it. This may be the only opportunity I have.

The hand in her hair slides to her jaw, my thumb brushing the side of her neck. She shivers and presses in tighter, her body molding to mine.