Page 160 of Rush

I watch the three of them banter, and it feels like I’m intruding. They mesh so naturally, woven together by years of friendship and loyalty.

Is this how Philippa feels when Riley and I are together?

“Hey, come sit.” Broderick beckons me, and I realize I’m still rooted in the kitchen, awkward and unsure of my place.

I want to bolt, but my feet betray me, carrying me toward him—pulled by the safety of his presence.

“Aww, look at you two. You’re even matching,” Philippa teases, cooing over our outfits.

“Aww,” they both echo in unison.

I roll my eyes. They’re enjoying this far too much.

“Guys, we’re just friends,” Broderick admonishes—probably for my benefit—as he takes a sip from the drink they brought.

“Who fuck—like champions,” I shoot back, deadpan. If they’re going to skirt around innuendos all night, I might as well make them squirm. “Isn’t that right,buddy?”

Andrew’s eyes widen in amusement, and Philippa slaps a hand over her mouth.

Broderick coughs, choking on his drink, and I pat his back, grinning.

The new Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair graciously bring an array of Thai food—apparently Broderick’s favorite. He sure had me worked up with an appetite, because I barely join their conversation, shoveling Pad Thai noodles into my mouth like it’s my full-time job.

Once we finish eating, the four of us move on to wine and dessert.

“You guys excited about the honeymoon?” I ask.

“Yes,” Philippa gushes as she curls her fingers through Andrew’s hair, leaning back lazily in her chair. “I’m ready to be sipping cocktails, not worrying about work, and just relaxing.”

“And other things,” Andrew adds.

“You seem a little frisky tonight, Bro, already switched to honeymoon mode,” Broderick jokes, and we all laugh.

“I’m curious,” Andrew says, smirking. “How does this little deal work? Do you have a bat signal, Elena—flash it and Broderick comes running, hard-on in tow?”

Philippa cackles—any trace of ladylike composure gone.

“Oh my God, Andrew, you’re diabolical,” she says.

As much as I love seeing this looser, fun side of Philippa, I’m about ready to make my sister a widow before she even gets on that well-deserved vacation.

“Hey, Brody, remember that plan we had?”

“Yeah—El, be a dear and grab a shovel,” Broderick says.

“Damn, dude.” Andrew clutches his chest in mock offense. “Siding with her? The betrayal. Must be some seriously good sex.”

If only he knew. Heat creeps up my cheeks.

“Okay, okay—I don’t really want to discuss how one of my best friends is railing my little sister.” Philippa, ever the voice of reason, throws her hands up between us.

“Yeah, Andrew, save all that horny banter for the honeymoon. I’m fully expecting a mini Sinclair in nine months.”

“Race you there,” Andrew teases.

And I tense up.What?

Broderick must sense it, because he shoots Andrew a look.