Page 23 of Enemies with My Brother's Billionaire Bestie

“You gonna find her? Talk about it?”

“Not sure. I think we both need some space to cool off.”

“Olivia didn’t look good, man. She headed toward the beach. I’m worried she might do something stupid.” His words sink into my chest like a stone, and suddenly I can picture it—Olivia, alone by the water, lost in the darkness.

Without thinking, I’m out of my chair and racing toward the door. My heart pounds in my throat. I could never forgive myself if something happened to her tonight, not after what we just went through.

“Olivia, please don’t do anything reckless,” I whisper under my breath as I run. The cold air cuts through me, sharp and biting.

I find her almost knee-deep in the water. My instincts kick in before my brain can process it. I charge toward her, grab her by the arm, and pull her back.

“What the hell are you doing?” she yells, struggling against me as I hoist her over my shoulder and carry her to safety.

“I should be asking you that,” I snap, my voice thick with frustration and fear. “You’re gonna freeze out here because of one stupid fight?” My heart is still pounding like a drum in my chest.

She stares at me, bewildered. “Freeze? What are you talking about?”

“Wait, wasn’t that what you were trying to do? You’re in the water in a sleeveless dress!” I gesture to her soaked dress, still confused.

She stares at me for a moment, and then—unexpectedly—she bursts into laughter. Not the reaction I was expecting, but better than tears, I guess.

“You idiot,” she says between giggles. “I was just… getting a feel for the sea.” She laughs again, the sound light and free, and for a moment, it makes everything feel a little less heavy. “Don’t tell me you rushed over here tosaveme? I’m impressed.”

I sit down on the sand, pulling her with me, still processing everything that just happened.

“Well, not my proudest moment, but yeah,” I admit with a sheepish grin. “I may hate you right now, but not enough to watch you drown.”

“At this rate, I don’t think you hate me.” She shakes her head, smiling. “If you did, you would’ve left me to die.”

I shrug, a playful challenge in my eyes. “Should I jump in to test how much you hate me?”

Her eyes widen as I pretend to rise, but she pulls me back down, laughter still bubbling up. “You win. I guess we’re both not villains after all.”

Her face is streaked with mascara, eyes red and swollen, her wine-colored dress smeared with mud—probably from falling on the way here. Her shoes are nowhere in sight. I want to ask if she’s okay, but seeing that she’s no longer crying, I hold back.

She breaks the silence, her voice unsteady. “Go ahead. Tell me how you were right about everything. How I should’ve listened about the candles. I promise I won’t be mad.” Her voice cracks, and I feel a sharp pang of guilt.

I tilt my head so I can see her face more clearly, my voice softer. “How about you start by punching me for prom night?” I try to keep the mood light, but the weight of my regret is still there. “You spent all your savings on that gorgeous pink dress, and I was an idiot.”

She looks at me, then gently shakes her head with a small smile. “Nah, it was childish. Daniel was right. I should’ve let it go.”

I stare out at the ocean, sighing. “You have every right to hold a grudge. I confronted your date, physically, and threatened him into canceling on you.”

She sits back on the sand, looking at me. “You did,” she says quietly, as she lies down, staring at the stars. “But you also said I didn’t know the full story. So, are you going to tell me now?”

I weigh my options, torn between holding back and telling her the truth. “I don’t know, Ollie,” I say, my voice low. “Sharing this means we’ll have a connection, and that’s going to make it harder for me to keep hating you.”

She looks at me with that same honesty in her eyes. “I don’t think hating each other has done either of us any good. After tonight, maybe we could use a change.”

And maybe I agree. Without thinking, I lie down beside her on the sand, gazing up at the stars. I don’t even notice the cold, the wind, or the night closing in around us.

“Henry was cute, but he was a loser,” I say after a moment, my voice barely a whisper. “He liked you, but let’s just say he was more focused on taking advantage of you than on actually caring.”

“So, you punched him and threatened him?” she says, her voice steady, no trace of bitterness.

“Well, I broke his nose and threw a few punches. Let’s just say I’ll own up to whatever charges you want to file,” I joke, though there’s a part of me that regrets how much I let my anger dictate that night.

She smiles, a little more lighthearted now. “I’m glad you broke his nose. Honestly, I’d have been more insulted if you just threatened him. Maybe smashing his parents’ car would’ve been the icing on the cake.”

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