Page 85 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

I opened the closet andsure enough, there were the three dresses I’d brought with me. Ipulled the black satin slip dress out, the one that I’d never beenbrave enough to wear at functions back home. I’d never even takenit to the club; it was too short and flimsy to guarantee I wouldn’texpose myself. But this seemed like the perfect venue.

After I brushed myteeth—midday dental hygiene never hurt anybody—and pulled my hairup into a high ponytail, I sent off to find Matt.

“Are you fucking kidd—onyour six, on your six!”

I followed the sound ofMatt’s nonsensical, one-sided chatter through the living room anddown another hall.

“Too bad, I don’t like youcamping the spawn point.” A brief pause. “Yes, you were. Dan TheMan, back me up.”

I entered a den that held awet bar, leather furniture, and a huge TV that currently displayeda video game with little soldiers running around shooting at eachother. Matt sat on the sofa, holding a controller in his hands andwearing a microphone headset.

“Don’t whine at me,” hetold whoever he was talking to. “Those are the server rules, notmine. Oh shit, they’re coming from behind those railcars. Who’scovering the rail yard?”

I leaned against the doorframe and cleared my throat loudly. “This is how you choose tospend your time at a sex resort?”

Matt slapped the headsetoff and tossed the controller aside, scrambling to his feet. Heturned to me with the guilty expression of someone who’d beencaught in the act. Unfortunately for Matt, that act was supremelyuncool.

“Hey,” he said, scratchingthe back of his neck. “So. You’re up.”

“I am.” I glanced up at thescreen, which pulsed red around the edges. “I think your guy isdying.”

“Yeah, well. War is hell,”he said sheepishly, grabbing the remote to turn the TV off. “Have agood nap?”

“I did. How long did Isleep?” I was somewhat nap-disoriented.

“Four hours.” He winced.“I’m sorry, should I have woken you?”

I shook my head. “No. Imust have needed it.”

What I’d needed was spaceaway from Matt, where I couldn’t see his ridiculously beautifulface or absurdly jacked body. All of my feelings for him, I’ddecided, were entirely predicated upon his physical perfection. Iwas being drawn in like a fly on a beautiful carnivorous plant. Atthe end of our time together, I would go back to the real world andnever even think about him.

You were thinking about himconstantly before you came here,my brain reminded me.

“You look…” Matt blew out along, low whistle as he looked me up and down. “And Ilook…”

“Like you’ve been sittingon a couch playing video games all day?” I caught the end of myponytail and toyed with it over my shoulder.

“I should change fordinner,” he said grimly, plucking at the front of his T-shirt. “Ifyou’re up to going out?”

“Iamhungry.” As if summoned, my stomach rumbled, and I pressed myhand to it as if I could conceal the sound.

“Let me take a quick, quickshower and get changed?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Whydid my voice sound so tight? I cleared it again. “I’ll snoop allover your house while you do.”

He scoffed. “Obviously.What’s the point of going to other people’s houses if you’re notgoing to snoop?”

When he left, he used hiscane, giving me a weirdly apologetic look as he picked it up. Iwasn’t sure what that was about. When we’d been doing thelong-distance sex and chats thing, he’d made lots of jokes abouthis injury and his reliance on mobility aids. I supposed all thosejokes could have been a shield to protect his ego.

One wall of the den wascovered in a floor-to-ceiling collection of DVDs. There was asimilar collection in my parents’ den, from a time beforestreaming. I ran my finger along the edges of the boxes as I readthe titles.Full Metal Jacket. DonnieDarko. The Rocky Horror Picture Show.Allvery out of context with our location. In fact, the whole room wasout of context. Who needed video games in a place like this? Whowanted to stop and watch a movie when there was so much flesh andsin on demand outside?

Suspicious, I took one ofthe DVDs with me and headed to Matt’s bedroom. He sat on the paddedbench at the foot of the bed, shirtless and seemingly out ofbreath.

I held up the DVD. “Quickquestion: who needs a copy ofThe DevilWears Pradaat an exclusive four-star sexresort?”

He blinked at me for amoment. “It was a gift.”

“From whom?”

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