Page 136 of Borrowing My Bestie's Brothers

“I can’t just sit here pretending that this…” She gestured vaguely to me and my guys. “Is happening right in front of me. I’m going to get a drink.”

I watched her hustle away, my eyes falling to the still three-quarters full wine glass she’s left behind, then jumped when someone pulled a chair out for me. Brock, I stared into his eyes, smiling when he did. I’d revved myself up like a car idling on the starting line, ready to fire up, fight my mother, but her storming away? That was the best possible scenario. I sat down and Dad nodded in approval as Brock tucked my chair in under me. The twins grabbed seats on either side of me, something that had him snorting right before he leaned over and said, “I’ll go and get us a drink.”

“Beer for me,” Hunter said with a grin.

“Get it your bloody self,” Brock shot back before ambling over to the bar.

“So…” When Dad folded his hands before him and leaned forward, I stiffened. This is what he looked like just before he started to interrogate someone. “How the hell did you learn how to drive like that, love?”

Steve rolled his eyes and Amber watched what was going with a quizzical expression, but I just smiled.

“Well, you know how I used to say I was going out to study at the library?”

“You didn’t.” Worry and amusement warred on Dad’s face, a smile winning. “Not with those bloody idiot boys that used to come around the house, sneaking in the back door.”

“The one and the same,” I said with a grin. “Pretty sure they just invited me out thinking I’d look pretty perched on the bonnets of their cars. That wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to put my foot to the floor, do burnouts, just like the guys.”

“So freaking hot…” Hayden hissed, winking when he caught my eye.

“That’s why I didn’t pass Year 12, but I got a pretty impressive reputation down at the illegal drags track.”

“Bloody hell…” Dad raked a hand through his hair, then turned to Steve. “Did you know anything about this?”

“Don’t drag me into this,” my brother spluttered.

“So how about now?” Dad’s eyes begged me for an answer he could live with and thankfully I could provide it.

“Now?” I sat back in my chair, feeling Hunter’s fingers toying with my braid, or was it Hayden’s? “Now I work hard not to buy cheap tyres to burn up and blow out in the same night. Now I just try to be the best damn mechanic I can be.”

“We’ll do our best to keep her on the straight-and-narrow, Mr. Kingston,” Hunter said with a smirk. “I mean it’s hard, seeing as Jamie’s such a wild child, but every day we wake up and try to convince her to stay on the straight-and-narrow.”

He should’ve turned around then, feeling my eyes burning into the side of his face. it’d been years since I’d done anything as dumb as that.

“Do you now?” Dad’s eyes narrowed. “So, tell me a bit more about yourselves. Male models, Jamie was saying?”

“Carpenters most of the time,” Hayden said.

The chatter washed over me, but I couldn’t really pay much attention to it. Brock made it to the bar and I watched him put a finger up, drawing one of the bartenders over.

But not just the staff member.

Mum was propped against the bar nursing a new glass of wine, but when she caught sight of Brock, she stiffened. My body was filled with the same tension. Because she pushed away from the bar and then stalked forward, taking up position next to Brock’s elbow. A shout froze in my throat as she looked up at him, then started to speak, because no matter what she had to say–enquiry about the weather, a discussion whether the banks would raise or lower home loan rates, or the likelihood of facing a nuclear winter or global warming, I didn’t care–none of it was good. I was rising up out of my seat, right as her arm landed on his.

Chapter 61

Brock

It all started so well.

I was patting myself on the back for not punching Steve Kingston’s teeth down his throat earlier this afternoon, and while I never liked getting dressed all fancy, Hunter was right. Putting on that suit, looking at my reflection in the mirror, I felt like I was fit to stand beside Jamie. Part of me wanted to compete, to see where I fitted against my pretty-boy brothers, but when she walked out, all that shit faded away. There was only Jamie.

So when she walked into this party like she was a damn queen, I just followed hot on her heels, watching the impudent swish of her hips, all while trying to keep my thoughts PG, lest I ruin the lines of my suit. Then when Frankie demonstrated he had some balls, even if it was just to keep Nadia happy? It let a little flame of hope flicker to life, one that threatened to turn into a proper fire when Jamie confronted her family.

I was prepared to step up, step in, be a meat shield for her family to unleash their barbs on, if it meant that it spared her the pain. I didn’t give two shits about these people, feeling none of Nadia’s need to make peace with the Kingstons and find a way to co-exist. I barely suppressed the need to pick Jamie up bodily and drag her out of this party, driving her around to Mum and Dad’s, so she could lay down on the couch and munch mindlessly on popcorn as the people I loved debated the chances of drag queens winning a competition I didn’t really understand. Then she would be safe, happy, and comfortable, and that’s what I needed for her.

Instead, I stood here, at a bar, waiting for the guy serving to turn to me. Of course it wasn’t just his attention I got though, was it?

“Two rum and Cokes,” I told the bartender, sucking in a breath, “and a couple of beers.”

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