Page 34 of Flirting With My Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

“Remember the time you tried taking that jump?”

“Don’t remind me of that. It ended quite tragically. My tailbone still hurts just thinking about that.”

“What made you do it to begin with? I just remember seeing you flying through the air and crashing. It looked brutal.”

“I thought I was being adventurous.” Jenni giggles. “I was never dumb enough to try that again.” She looks over at me with a crooked grin. “In the meantime, you’re whizzing down the black diamonds.”

“I’d say some of those ski slopes in Utah are even better than the skiing in the Swiss Alps.”

“Oh, but you can’t beat the adventure of going to Europe.” Jenni gets this wistful look in her eyes.

“Or India.” I’ve been there many times with her family over the years.

“India is the best. But of course I’m biased. I love the culture and seeing my mom’s family. It’s just good to revisit your roots, you know?”

“Then why didn’t you want to date a guy from India?”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that he’s from India. That I have no problem with. I just don’t want to be set up with someone I don’t pick out myself.”

“Have you ever thought about dating a guy from India?”

“Sure. Plenty of times. I’ve even talked to a bunch of Indian guys online.” She makes a face. “I don’t recommend using dating apps. You meet a lot of creepers that way.”

“But wouldn’t you be more likely to find a decent guy if you’re taking recommendations from your aunts?”

“Hey, my mom didn’t have to do the arranged marriage thing. I don’t think I should have to either.”

“It is kind of ironic that she was pushing you to try an arranged marriage.”

“I don’t know that she was going to take it that far, but she was inching into that territory.” Jenni runs her fingers through her jet-black hair. It looks touchable and soft.

I reach out to feel it, stroking my fingers through it. I half expect her to stiffen up at my touch, but she doesn’t. If anything, she looks relaxed, like she’s enjoying it. But I can’t tell if she’s putting on an act for the staff members passing by or if she really likes it.

“Well, don’t you two look cozy.” I look up to see Mom coming downstairs. “Amanda just pulled up.”

My heart starts to pound at her words.

“Just take a deep breath, Langston.” Jenni takes my hand and interlocks her fingers with mine supportively. “Everything will be okay.”

Her eyes are sincere, and I know for a fact she’s not acting. She’s actually being really sweet. It’s a side of Jenni I’ve rarely seen. Usually, she’s wearing this prickly exterior. I wouldn’t ever have called her tender before, but that’s what she’s like at the moment.

The doorbell sounds, and Gregory’s footsteps hitting the marble ring through the house as he goes to let her in.

I stand because I don’t know what else to do. It’s dumb. I shouldn’t care this much about what Amanda wants. It’s not like I have any feelings for her. Those have long evaporated.

Her voice drifts in from the foyer, talking to Gregory in a tone too low to understand.

When Gregory appears on the other side of the wall with the giant fireplace, he has Amanda with him as well as a boy who appears to be about seven or eight.

I was expecting Amanda to look vibrant and full of life, like she’s hunting for a man, but this woman looks emaciated and pale, like she’s been malnourished. She has dark bags under her eyes, and they’re sunken into her face with her cheekbones sticking out. Her hair is different too. It’s short, choppy, and thin. Far from the luscious long hair she had when I last saw her. Has she been starving herself or something?

But the kid with her is the picture of health. He has thick dark hair and eyes that are roaming across the room like he’s never seen a place like this before. The home is like a museum, similar to Biltmore, where they charge admission to get inside.

“Hi, I’m Langston. What’s your name?” I shake the little boy’s hand and look into eyes that mirror my own.

“I’m Hayden.” He smiles at me, and two dimples pop, one on each cheek, just like the ones I have.

“Langston,” Amanda says, stepping toward me. And as she gets closer, she looks even more frail than I’d originally thought. Her movements are slow, like they’re taking a lot out of her. “It’s been a long time.”

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