Page 23 of Falling For My Best Friend's Brother

I sent him another glare that didn’t even faze him, the fucking prick, though I chewed slowly, swallowed and pushed the muffin down with a sip of coffee.

“We got invited to a party this Friday,” I muttered.

His gaze was still on me, now confused. “We?”

“Yes. We. It’s a welcoming party for the new people in the building. We have to go.”

Huffing, he lifted his head to me, giving me his full attention. “Wearen’t going anywhere.”

Hmm. Well, well, well. What dowehave here?

I bit back a teasing smile, trying not to let my amusement show. “Why not? Are you antisocial?”

“Of course not,” Knox said sharply. “I just prefer quiet places. Preferably with fewer people. Or no people at all.”

I made a show of scoffing way too many times. “Surely, you’re not scared? I mean, someone like you would never allow something as ridiculous as apartyto frighten him. Right?”

If he noticed what I was trying to do, it was either he didn’t care, or he wanted to prove me wrong. Either way, the absolute pleasure I felt when he scowled and said, “Fine. We’ll go to your stupid party” was almost comical.

Smiling victoriously, I stood up. “Great. See you Friday.”

***

Truth be told, I wasn’t much of a party girl myself. Sure, I’d been to my fair share of parties in both high school and college, and I’d even thrown some before, but they usually ended very quickly for me. The ever-flowing crowd and never-ending alcohol, drugs, sex and, ugh… I got tired of it.

But Lindsay and I still made it a habit to find time to enjoy our university days by attending some parties or raves. One of those “I don’t want to look back and regret” kind of things. On graduation night, we’d partied so hard that we’d both woken up in some random guy’s bed in a room we had no recollection of ever entering. But it was fun.

With Knox though, not so much.

The party was in full swing when we arrived. Fairy lights draped across the spacious living room just like ours, musicthumping, and people scattered everywhere, mingling, laughing, just having a good time. I scanned the scene with a smile. Even though it was sometimes exhausting, it wasn’t out of my element. Knox, on the other hand, looked like he’d rather be in a dentist’s chair.

“Do we have to be here?” His voice was already grating on my nerves, and we hadn’t even crossed the threshold of social interaction yet.

“Yes, we do.” I shot him a sideways glance. He was scanning the crowd like a soldier entering hostile territory. “Why are you standing like you expect to be ambushed at any moment?”

“Because people are unpredictable. Someone could talk to me,” he muttered, a hint of real dread in his voice.

I laughed, grabbing his arm and tugging him along. “Oh no, the horror. Peopletalkingto you.”

Knox groaned but followed, his body stiff as if the idea of mingling physically hurt him. I was already making my rounds. Smiling, greeting familiar faces of people I’d already met, enjoying the vibe. This was easy for me, like swimming in calm water. Growing up with rich parents meant attending different functions and events and learning how to engage people in conversation.

A glance at Knox’s stiff shoulders made me roll my eyes. “This is ridiculous. Don’t you work in public relations or something? Do you publicly relate with stones?”

His glare was sharp. “That’s work. An entirely different scenario.”

“Is it? Isn’t talking to people what you do all day?”

“Again, work,” he scowled at me, just as a young lady hit his shoulder while she passed by. The veins in his neck almost popped out. “At the office, I don’t have to deal with terrible music and unnecessary noise, and everybody is focused on one thing: making money. This is a massive waste of time.”

“Well, you did say parties don’t frighten you. And it’s just a few hours. I don’t see what the fuss is about. Let loose, you psycho. Dance. Mingle. Flirt.” I threw him a look over my shoulder. “You do know how to flirt, don’t you?”

A wry expression replaced the scowl on his face. “A lot of questions for someone who claims she doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

I shrugged, mentally cursing myself for showing interest. “I don’t. Do whatever you want.”

A few minutes later of watching him awkwardly hover, I found myself whispering, “You can’t just stand there and look like you’re about to fire someone.”

Knox blinked at me; his eyes wide as if I’d suggested something horrific. “What else am I supposed to do?”

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