Page 63 of Don't Fall For Your Best Friend

“That exchange. It felt like you guys are a couple or something.”

“Pax,” Tripp interrupts, and I’ve never been more thankful.

“What?” I ask. I’m becoming annoyed because I know my brothers can sense something going on between me and Hartford, and I don’t want to tell them anything. It’s none of their business.

Hell, I don’t even know what’s going on. Sure, we’ve had sex. Great sex. Life-changing sex, but that doesn’t mean we’re a couple, does it?

Fuck. I don’t even know what’s going on, so how am I supposed to tell anyone else about it?

“You do look like a couple. More than normal,” Tripp says in a raspy voice. He looks like shit, and I’m sure he’s probably hungover. Again.

“Nothing’s going on.” When is dinner going to be ready? I hate getting the third degree from my brothers. “Everything’s fine,” I add on for good measure.

Callum and our father discuss the game, while Shep, Brock, and Tripp focus on me.

“Are you trying to convince us, or yourself?” Shep asks.

“You all are a bunch of assholes,” I say, not really sure why I’m even so bothered. I’m used to my brothers joking around with me. Normally I can give as good as I get, but today there’s something off.

I blame my mother.

Her saying I needed to claim Hartford before one of my brothers did really got to me. Okay, she didn’t say it quite like that, but she meant that, right?

My head’s a mess.

Hartford and Anya come back into the living room, and Hartford squeezes between me and Brock on the couch. She rests her hand on my thigh as she hands me a beer.

“Thank you,” I say, thinking about the fact that I never even asked her for a beer. I should marry this woman.

That thought makes me pause, but then I think about Hartford as my wife. I think about getting to have Hartford by my side always and not having to worry about any of my brothers moving in on her.

“Scoot over,” I tell Brock, realizing he’s way too close to Hartford and it’s pissing me off. Would it be weird if I told all of my brothers that none of them are allowed to look at Hartford while she’s here?

Probably.

As my family chatters about the game, work, and life, I stay silent, lost in thought. Hartford squeezes my thigh, and I want nothing more than to pull her close to me and kiss her madly.

Can we leave early?

Maybe dip out before dinner even begins? The need coursing through me right now to claim Hartford is overwhelming.

“How’s it going living with Paxt, Hartford?” Brock asks, breaking me from my inner turmoil.

She confiscates my beer from my hand and takes a sip before handing it back. “It’s fine.”

“Sounds exciting,” Brock says lifting a brow, obvious sarcasm lacing his tone.

And I get more and more upset with how close Brock is sitting next to Hartford. Can’t he sit somewhere else?

Like the floor?

“She’s being well taken care of,” I say, placing my hand over hers on my thigh, and Shep eyes me from across the room.

He raises a brow, and I quickly move my hand away.

Fuck. I don’t know how to act anymore.

“She’s being well taken care of,” Tripp says in a mocking tone, and I wish I could chuck this beer at his head.

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