Page 32 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

"Any time. And, uh, I mean that. Any time you need some company for lunch or dinner, just give me a call." He gives me a warm smile that seems to linger just a little longer than friendly. "Lady Riley," he says, with a tip of his imaginary hat, and then leaves.

Okay, maybe he was flirting.

When I turn to my desk, there's a wrapped panini and an iced green tea.

On top, a post-it note that says:

Don't skip lunch — R

The afternoon is so busy, I hardly have time to think about anything outside work. My second meeting with Professor P, as Craig called him, is significantly more helpful than the first, and I leave feeling excited about my work with him and the work that he wants me to do in the next few months. He's also interested in my thesis, and has some ideas, though he's careful not to "help" too much.

I leave a little after four p.m., deciding to drop by the house to change into something more comfortable before my five p.m. apartment viewing.

When I get out of the bedroom, though, I'm suddenly aware I'm not the only one home.

"What are you doing here?" I ask Marcus, who's standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands in his jeans, as if he were waiting for me.

"I live here. I'm Mar-cus," he says slowly with a smirk.

"Yeah, but aren't you usually working at this time?" I quickly check my phone. Four-thirty. I've got to go.

"Slow arvo." He pulls his phone out of his pocket. "So, you've got a rental viewing at five?"

"How do you—" I stop. "Leon."

"Leon," he confirms.

I press my fingers to my eyes. I'd texted my brother after booking the appointment for the viewing. I didn’t realise I needed to explicitly tell him his friends don't need to know my business. I foresee an imminent lecture for my big brother.

"I don't need⁠—"

"I know a lot about buildings," Marcus says. Which, fine, is technically true; he literally owns a construction company, but that is not the point.

"I can view apartments by myself."

"Didn't say you couldn't."

“Well…I…um, almost have a doctorate!" I shout as if it should matter, knowing full well, it doesn't.

"In political science,” he says with a smirk. "Not finding mould and load bearing walls.”

I open my mouth to continue the argument, but Zachary materialises from around the corner, as if he's been lingering there the whole time.

I take the chance to cash in on what feels like an unspoken truce after our conversation last night. "Zachary! Thank god you're here." That earns me a strange look, but I move on. "Tell Marcus I'm perfectly capable of looking for an apartment by myself."

Zachary freezes. As if he doesn't know what he's walked into.

But then he holds his hand up and jingles his keys.

"Er, I was going to say that maybe I should drive us. Probably more comfortable than having to cram into Marcus's work truck."

My mouth drops open. So much for thinking he might be on my side.

"No! One of you was bad enough. I'm not bringing you both like a pair of bodyguards."

Just then the front door opens and Rhys walks in, stopping in his tracks as he spots the scene in the hallway.

He looks from me to Marcus to Zachary, hand still hovering with the keys.