Page 102 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

“I told you, I’mterrible!”

“No, you’re not!” Hisshoulders shook with the force of his laughter. “That was one of myfavorite pastimes in college.”

“No, it wasn’t.” I felt alittle silly, but somewhat vindicated, if he was telling thetruth.

He nodded vigorously.“There was a park I loved to go to because there were so manypeople, well, not on skateboards, but inline skating. I would sitat the bottom of this hill and watch people come down itface-first. It wasn’t funny if it was a kid. I would have felt badlaughing about that. But these guys who took it seriously? Yes, Iloved it. I loved watching them fall down.”

I watched him wipe tears oflaughter from his eyes, and I couldn’t help but laughtoo.

“Okay, okay, what aboutthis one. Equally horrible,” I said, and cleared my throat. “Whensomebody spoiled has their wedding ruined. Bonus points if it’sbecause someone else proposed during the wedding.”

“You didn’t seem to thinkruined weddings were so funny before,” he reminded me, and it was alittle scolding.

I lifted my chin. “Joke’son you. I loved that Scott didn’t marry Lauren. But I didn’t likethe way that particular wedding got ruined. You almostdied.”

“Yes, I remember.” He slidhis scarred leg against my thigh. “That’s two.”

“TikToks of peoplecriticizing recipe videos.” I’d been missing those in my time onthe island. “Almost-new lip balm.”

He raised an eyebrow, onthe edge of being disgusted. “Almostnew? Secondhand?”

“No.” I laughed. “No, whenyou get a new tube of lip balm, there’s this thin ridge around theedge. I like it better when that edge has worn down because youdon’t get way too much from it crumbling.”

“These are very specific. Iwas imagining ‘kittens’ or ‘warm socks.’”

“Those things are nice,” Iagreed. “But is anything as nice as smoking a joint on thebeach?”

“Is that your fifth thing?”he asked.

I nodded.

“I’m pretty sure I can makeyou happy.” He stood, water sluicing down every ridge of muscle onhis torso. I wanted to claw my nails into his ribs. I wanted tosink my teeth into his pecs.

“Come on,” he said, eithernot noticing or outright ignoring my lustful appreciation. “Let’sgo smoke on the beach.”

****

Most of the resort guestswere at the castle. Apparently, there was a BDSM exhibition in thetheater that night. People performing on stage and everything. Therest of the place was fairly deserted. We saw a giggling foursomesneaking into one of the canvas-curtained bungalows near the sand’sedge, and Matt nodded to them with a slanted smile.

“You love owning thisplace,” I observed.

He took a deep, contentedbreath. “I do.”

“You like making peoplehappy.”

“I do,” herepeated.

“Sexuallyhappy?”

He considered. “All kindsof happy. My life has been… I don’t want to say easy. Life isn’teasy on anyone. But I haven’t been deprived of anything, in amaterial sense. I haven’t known what it’s like to go without food,to worry about whether or not I’ll have a place to live. And Irecognized very early how unfair that is.”

“A lot of people in yourposition would have rationalized that away,” I said.

He’d tucked a joint behindhis ear for the walk down. With his dark curls a little grown out,he looked like a cool kid in an eighties movie. “I know they do.I’ve heard all about it. My dad was a big believer in the conceptof ‘deserving’ wealth. If you had it, you deserved it. If youdidn’t have it, you were lazy. Shortsighted.Poor.”

It wasn’t a funny truth,but the way he pronounced poor as if he had a permanentlythrust-forward chin made me laugh.

The sugar-fine sandsquished through my toes, and I closed my eyes, savoring thefeeling. Everyone thought people who lived in California had abeach at their doorstep, but I rarely made it out to the ocean. Itwas at least a three-hour drive. The sound of the gently rollingsurf and the pleasant ache in my calves as they adjusted to theresistance of the sand distracted me so much that I didn’t realizeI’d walked ahead of Matt.

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