Page 42 of Enemies with My Brother's Billionaire Bestie

“Because I’ve read every word you’ve posted over the past two years. I’ve memorized each post. Maybe that should have been the first clue about my feelings for you, but as my mother always says, I tend to be slow in that area,” I say, forcing a laugh that cracks under the weight of my emotion.

“You never asked me how I knew the dress you wore for prom, even though I never attended. It’s because I’ve been watching you, Ollie, crushing on you in ways my foolish heart was too scared to admit.” Tears well in her eyes as I share truths I’ve never revealed to anyone—truths I buried so deep I forgot they existed.

I don’t let the tears stop me. “I started cooking because of you, Ollie. I remember when this fourteen-year-old girl told me I made the best mac and cheese and that the entire world needed to taste it. You put this big dream in my head… No one else but you, Olivia Reed.”

Now the tears are streaming down my face. “I’m done pretending not to feel what I feel for you. I’m done hiding behindthe shadows of hatred like a coward,” I say, sinking to my knees and taking her hands in mine. “Your love makes me vulnerable, but I’m not afraid anymore. I’m ready to take any leap with you. So here I am, on bended knee, begging you to love me again, Ollie.”

She struggles to form coherent words. “Elliot, I’m so… how can I—”

“All I need is your love, Ollie. Take my hand, and I promise to give you a happily ever after that any fairytale would envy,” I plead, and her eyes glisten with hope.

“Yes, I’ll love you forever, El,” she cries, throwing herself into my arms. I hold her close and press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, Miss Olivia Reed,” I whisper, capturing her lips with mine until Daniel clears his throat.

I’d completely forgotten we had an audience. “I brought you here to apologize to my sister, not to watch you propose marriage!” he smirks, and Julia bumps him jokingly.

“It’s not a proposal yet until there’s a ring on her finger. He didn’t come with any,” Julia whispers loud enough for me to hear.

Wrapping my arms around Olivia’s hips, I respond, “Oh, that can be easily arranged.”

Julia pulls Daniel away. “Let’s get out of here before they make me gag.”

As they leave, I stare lovingly at Olivia, wondering if I truly deserve this miracle.

Indeed, even a rolling stone finds its way back home. I’ve found my home.

Chapter twenty-seven

Epilogue

This is happening all over again. It’s like reliving my worst nightmare, but this time, it’s no dream—it's reality. I’m going to kill Elliot Sharp because he’s ruining everything again with his ridiculous rules.

I slam the book on the table, startling Daniel and Julia. “Can you tell your best friend to be more reasonable, Dee? Our rehearsal dinner feels like a funeral without the flowers!” I turn to my brother, but he’s too busy munching on his chips to care.

“You tell him yourself. You’re the one marrying him,” he replies, and while it’s a valid point, this isn’t exactly the best moment to remind me.

Elliot slides into the seat beside me, his fingers dancing over my hands in a familiar, persuasive manner. “Babe, I’m not saying we shouldn’t have flower petals at the wedding, but covering the entire floor with them is a little excessive.”

“It’s not! They’re beautiful!” I protest, my voice rising.

“What if someone trips or has an allergy?” he shoots back, glancing anxiously toward the kitchen.

“Then they should take allergy medication. Come on, babe, it’s been a year, but you’re still acting like the same grump you were at Daniel’s rehearsal dinner!” I whine, and he cocks an eyebrow at me, as if reminding me of how that night ended. But this is different.

“Fine, can we at least have a few flowers laid out today? It’s our rehearsal dinner!” I plead, tugging on his arm.

Before he can respond, Emma’s voice slices through the tension. “If you two keep this back-and-forth going, we might never eat today, let alone have the wedding in three days! And in case you’ve forgotten, we only have three hours left.”

“I’ve never said this before, but if you both keep arguing, I’ll scream. Just agree on something for once!” she yells, and the room falls into silence.

Elliot leans in, whispering in my ear, “Looks like we’ve managed to piss Emma off. She might just set your wedding dress on fire.”

I chuckle, my frustration fading. “Maybe it’s your cue to back down,” I reply, and he nods in agreement.

Rising to his feet, he smooths down his beige suit. “Do whatever my lady asks. I have a kitchen to manage,” he says, planting a kiss on my forehead.

“Who works on their rehearsal dinner? You’re just a control freak,” Daniel teases, and we all know it’s true. Elliot thrives on keeping his kitchen running like a well-oiled machine.

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