Page 16 of The Breaking Point

We finished eating in awkward silence.

“Brady, can you help me clear the dishes for dessert?” I asked.

Brady knew a command when he heard it. He smiled, his gaze heavy lidded, and then saluted me.

When we were in the kitchen, I whirled on him. “What the hell is your problem?” I demanded.

Brady put up his hands. “Whoa there, sweetheart. Should I put the knives away first?”

“You’re being a jerk. To Will, to me. To my parents, who invited you. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?”

I saw something flash across Brady’s expression that I almost thought could be remorse. But it disappeared so quickly that I probably had imagined it.

Brady popped a grape into his mouth. “Baby, you do look sexy when riled.”

“I am not your baby,” I hissed.

“Well, you’re definitely not Walt’s, either.”

“His name is Will.”

Brady looked bored now. “Is it? Sorry. Seriously, that’s the best you could find? He looks like he’d burst into tears if you stepped on his foot.”

“So? Why do you care?”

Brady blinked. Then his gaze narrowed. “Because you and I both know that little IT guy isn’t your type.”

I started laughing because there was no other response to make. “My type? You don’t know a damn thing about who my type is, Brady Carmichael. You also have no say in how I live my life—”

Brady pressed a hand over my mouth. “You’re yelling.”

I bit his palm—not hard, but enough to make him remove his hand.

“I’d forgotten how spicy you could be,” Brady said, almost to himself. He looked at me now like he didn’t recognize me.

I pointed a finger at him. “Behave yourself. You have to be boring. So dull that we’d all rather watch paint dry. Otherwise, I will never, ever forgive you.”

“And you’re still just as bossy as when we were kids.”

“Only because you’re a huge pain in the ass.”

Brady just grinned lazily. “You enjoy this.”

I stared at him. “What?”

He gestured vaguely. “This. Us. I just know Will doesn’t get you going like I do.”

I blushed to the roots of my hair. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come on. That guy? Seriously?”

“I’d rather be with a guy like Will than a guy who constantly has women with fake boobs falling all over him. Have you ever been with a woman who hasn’t spent thousands on plastic surgery? Do you even know what breasts without silicone feel like?”

Brady just laughed. “Baby, now you just sound jealous.”

I didn’t respond to that. Instead of decking Brady in the face, I returned to the dining room with a sweet smile plastered to my face. Dad raised an eyebrow as I sat back down.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” he asked.

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