Page 2 of Secret Baby for My Brother's Best Friends

I’m such an idiot.

No, not an idiot, my brother James said when I said it out loud. Just trusting.

And boring.

And kind of a doormat.

I refuse to let those thoughts drag me down and reject the urge to hide, even as the door opens fully. I may not be the most extroverted person, but I’m not the mouse he thinks I am either. And I refuse to let myself become that mouse.

Maybe I can use some practice being the fun Chelsea.

Maybe I can pretend to be her, just for today, just to see if I can.

But I almost reconsider when the intruder pushes the door fully open.

Oh my God.

Well, it's not my brother, that's for sure.

A literal Adonis walks into the bedroom. I spotted him earlier when he first arrived, and he was instantly surrounded by a group of women in the corner. I couldn't even blame them. He was the type of handsome that it was impossible to play it cool around, the kind of handsome you make a fool of yourself over, the type of handsome that you just know is plastered over someone’s walls or Pinterest board, and they just look at it every time and sigh, because being with a guy like that is just really fucking unrealistic.

He has blonde hair, windswept and sparkling blue eyes that look like he just heard a joke. Of course, I can’t see them right now because he’s not looking at me yet, but I studied them extensively when he looked down at one of the women hanging onto his arm. She was saying something, and he smiled indulgently, his eyes twinkling as he did.

I swear I saw her swoon.

Hell, I swooned too, and that smile wasn’t even directed at me. Not to mention that body. He’s just wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans, but it clings to every curve of his muscles, his powerful thighs, and complements the oozing power and raw masculinity in his aura.

Yeah, I'm way out of my depth here. No way I can play fun, Chelsea, in front of this guy. I'll make a fool of myself, and he'll instantly see me for the fraud that I am.

If I had any brain cells left, I would duck to the side or hide under the bed so he doesn’t see me. Or I would simply walk out of this bedroom entirely to keep from making a fool of myself. But Idon’t do that. For some reason, I can’t get my legs to work. Hell, I can barely get myself to breathe.

And then he looks around, humming lightly under his breath, probably looking for something.

Either way, his eyes fall on me. And they flare open.

I don’t know what that means.

My brain's not working at max capacity right now, so I don’t know if flaring of the eyes is a good thing or a bad thing, not until a sultry smile spreads across his lips.

It's the smile that gets me.

It awakens something feminine within, and now I have butterflies bouncing in my belly.

“Well, hello,” he says, his voice deep and honeyed. “I don’t think I’ve seen you at all this afternoon.”

I laugh nervously, and it’s a little higher and tighter than my typical laugh. “That’s because I’ve been hiding out here.”

“What’s happening in here?”

“Nothing, just…” Having an existential crisis after being abandoned by my brother and then realizing that a crowd of drunk strangers has never been, and will never be, my scene. Except I don’t want to leave either because then I'll go home and cry all night into my Pinot Grigio, which will then make things more awful than they are now.

I don't want to tell him any of that boring, painful real-life stuff. I'm still trying for fun-Chelsea, so I attune my brain to whatshewould say if she were caught in her brother's bedroom at a party.

“Just thinking about how I’m going to lure you away from your harem out there."

Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Why did I just say that?

“Harem?” His voice dips in amusement, and I gird myself against just what it does to me. I have to keep playing it cool. I already started this, so I can't just stop now.