Page 27 of Enemies with My Brother's Billionaire Bestie

She leans over, her perfume filling the air, intoxicating and familiar. “What’s wrong with my smile? People say it’s one of my best features.”

“They lied. Ollie, it’s not pretty at all,” I reply, gently pushing her back so I can think straight again.

She scoffs, turning her face toward the window. “Cold-hearted bully,” she mutters under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear.

As I drive through the quiet streets, with nothing but the sound of the wind between us, I try to keep my thoughts of Olivia at bay. There’s more pressing business—like warning my mother to stop talking about Olivia. Her ridiculous ideas are part of why my head feels like a rollercoaster right now.

When we arrive at Emma’s office, she’s standing outside, that familiar bright smile on her face, just like the first time we came here. It makes me wonder why I’ve been so awful to such a sweet girl. Rubbing my sweaty hands against my jeans, I get out of the car.

She’s already walking toward me. “Hello, Mr. Sharp. It’s been a while,” she says, her smile only intensifying my guilt.

“Yeah. Listen, Emma, I’m…” I start to apologize, but she cuts me off.

“Don’t apologize. An event planner should learn how to say no, even if the person asking is such a cute human,” she says, winking at Olivia.

I nod. “Well, she certainly is persuasive.”

Ushering us into the conference room, she leads the conversation straight into the wedding plans, despite the disaster of the rehearsal dinner. Strangely, the thought of petals and flowers around the reception no longer makes me cringe. Maybe it’s because I’m done fighting it.

Olivia is watching me the whole time, her gaze never leaving me. It’s definitely not helping.

“What?” I ask, tilting my head as we leave the office.

She raises her brows, feigning confusion. “What do you mean, what? You’ve been looking at me like I’m some kind of alien since we got here.”

She lets out a defeated sigh. “Well, it’s just... odd seeing you not arguing or protesting about wedding ideas this time.”

“You make it sound like I turn into a monster when I don’t agree. I don’t do that,” I defend myself, unlocking the car door and sliding in.

She slams the door shut behind her. “No, El, you do worse. You spit fire when you disagree. Look in the mirror, bro,” she laughs, tightening her seatbelt.

“Don’t do that, Ollie. I’ve told you before,” I groan, and she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, I look ugly when I smile. You don’t need to repeat it, mister bully.”

I start the engine, and as we pull out of the parking lot, I try to keep my thoughts on Emma and the wedding plans, but Olivia keeps drifting back into my mind.

“What about my smile makes me ugly? Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” she says, eyes locked on mine.

Her blue eyes are searching, and I can feel the weight of her gaze pulling me in. My heart skips, and I realize how dangerously close I am to falling for her. This isn’t healthy. Not for me. But maybe it’s time to stop fighting it.

“What do you want to hear, Ollie?” I mutter, eyes on the road, but I can feel her watching me, waiting.

Groaning, I jerk the car to a stop, the sudden motion making her jump. “I lied, Ollie. About your smile... and a few other things,” I blurt out.

Her cheeks flush as she looks away, but I can’t take my eyes off her. My hands grip the steering wheel tighter. This feeling... It’s like stepping into unknown waters, dangerous, but irresistible.

And I think of Olivia’s last blog post—could this be my own spark of New Flames?

Chapter seventeen

Olivia

Something is terribly wrong. I felt it that night when Elliot dropped me off, and now, as we drive back to his restaurant in silence, the feeling lingers like a dark cloud overhead. Elliot is changing—saying things I’m not sure he means—and I don't know how to react.

My cheeks still burn from his earlier comment, and the air in the car feels so still, so heavy, that I’m afraid he might hear how wildly my heart is pounding against my ribs. His kindness feels dangerous, making my heart do things it shouldn’t. But I’m also not ready to stop it.

He clears his throat, breaking the silence. “I’ve been working on something for Daniel’s wedding, and I’m wondering if you could help critique it.”

---