Page 21 of Filthy Rich Brother's Best Friends

Chapter 6

Lola

I’m not okay right now. Not even a little bit.

The grill is smoking. The patio string lights have fallen down in several spots. I’m not sure why Gigi decided they needed to be put up at the last minute. All I know is that she was pissed I wouldn't help her. You know, because I can’t exactly prepare the entire dinnerandhelp her hang completely unnecessary decorations at the same time. What a cold-hearted bitch I am, right?

Blaire was conveniently absent during Gigi’s meltdown. She emerged from the house five minutes later in a new outfit, raving about how she had created theperfectplaylist. I guess our definitions of “perfect” differ because her playlist is giving me a massive headache.

I am now extremely irritated on top of being completely burnt out.

And they’re here. All three of them.

Jude, Reid, and Miles.

I can handle this, right? I’m an adult who does adult-y things. I can handle big girl feelings and even bigger awkwardness. This is just a simple backyard gathering with the new neighbors, not a complete disaster, right?

But every time I glance across the patio, I see Jude laughing at something Blaire said. It’s casual. I know it’s casual. But she keeps inching closer and closer to him and I’m fighting every instinct in my body to go push her away from him and tell her to back the fuck off.

Across the yard, Reid is bantering with Gigi, trying to get a laugh for some stupid joke he just told. The way she’s pressing her chest into his arm, you’d think she’s incapable of holding herself upright without his help. She tosses her head back with a laugh that carries over the god-awful music. He says something to her, and she lightly slaps his chest.

Miles is standing a little off to the side, though near enough to Blaire and Jude that he’s almost part of their conversation. He’s not talking much, just nodding while Blaire rambles on about something I can’t hear. His expression doesn’t change, but I can tell he’s listening.

I’m trying not to spiral. Really, I am.

I’m keeping my distance, doing what I was “asked,” and I’m wearing the smile I keep on reserve for when I want people to think I’m fine. Spoiler alert: I am very muchnotfine. The trick is to keep moving. If I stop, I might start crying or screaming or throwing things. Probably all three.

And who doesn’t want to see a full-grown woman have a complete toddler tantrum?

The smoke is getting in my eyes. Or maybe that’s just my brain melting.

It’s just…a lot. Every second feels longer than the one before. I have to keep reminding myself to chill the fuck out.

But every time I manage to find some semblance of calm, I catch another glimpse of Reid’s smirk or the way Jude’s shirt hugs his arms or the way Miles keeps watching Blaire. And Gigi. And me.

I can’t do this.

I really, really can’t do this.

But I don’t really have a choice, do I?

I flip the burgers on the grill again, even though they don’t need it. Behind me, someone cracks open another drink. Someone else laughs too loudly. I can’t focus on any of it.

Then Jude steps up beside me.

He bumps my shoulder with his. Even that small, casual touch makes my brain short-circuit. I can feel someone’s eyes burning a hole in the back of my neck. When I glance back, I’m not at all surprised to find that it’s both Blaire and Reid staring daggers. If looks could kill…

“Do you need help with this? I feel bad you’re over here all by yourself.”

“It’s fine.”

The silence stretches thin. I wish he’d just walk away.

But he doesn’t. “So, you doing okay?”

“Yep,” I say.

I can feel him looking at me. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I can feel them all looking at me. My hands are shaking.