My Brother's Billionaire Best Friend - Max Monroe Page 0,91

know what she was thinking.

I wish I could take back that night and have a do-over.

But mostly, I just wish she were mine.

Maybe

My favorite David Gray song, “Sail Away,” plays from the speakers inside the ballroom. I stand a few feet from the dance floor, a barely touched glass of wine in my hand, and watch as my brother smiles down at his wife, swaying gently with her to the music.

That’s right. Evan is officially married.

And damn, I’ve never seen my brother look so happy. So in love.

My heart is confused as I watch them. It wants to soar, but at the same time, it twists and turns inside my chest. Discomfort still there. A stark, unavoidable reminder of him.

I can’t stop my eyes from searching the room, taking inventory of all the familiar faces.

Until they stop on the one person they were looking for the entire time.

Milo.

He is on the other side of the dance floor, a gorgeous woman standing beside him. Together, they watch the happy couple enjoy their first dance as husband and wife.

He brought a fucking date.

He brought a beautiful woman to my brother’s wedding, and I get to play the part of the solo bridesmaid with a broken heart.

Thanks a lot, you asshole.

The pain in my chest moves to my stomach and seems to set up shop on the right side of my abdomen again, throbbing and aching and annoying the hell out of me.

I attempt to wash it away with a drink of wine, but when I lift the glass to my lips and the first tiny drop hits my tongue, nausea decides to join the party.

I roll my eyes and set my glass of wine down on an empty table.

Jesus. Can’t anything go right tonight?

The DJ encourages everyone to join the bride and groom on the dance floor, to share in the end of their first dance, and just before I can go back to my seat, a hand gently touches my shoulder.

I turn to find one of Evan’s friends, Caplin Hawkins, standing there and grinning down at me.

“Can I interest you in a dance?”

“Uh…yeah…sure.” I mean, why the fuck not? It’s not like I’m here with anyone.

He leads me out onto the dance floor, and despite his reputation for being a bit of a playboy, he appears content with keeping things very PG between us. A chaste number of inches separates our chests, and his hands never veer away from my waist.

“You doing okay, sweetheart?”

“Uh…yeah.” I furrow my brow and lift my eyes to his. “It’s a happy day. I mean, I have every reason to be nothing but okay.”

“You sure about that?”

What in the hell is he getting at here?

Uncertain, I half nod. “Pretty sure.”

“I know you probably don’t know this about me, but I’m a damn good listener,” he says quietly, and I don’t miss the way he flits his gaze across the dance floor and pauses for a few seconds too long on Milo. “So, if you need to unload some shit that’s on your mind, consider Ol’ Cap more than willing to lend an ear.”

It’s pretty apparent he knows something, and I’m just about to open my mouth and tell him to drop the bullshit, but an all-too-familiar voice fills my ears.

“Mind if I cut in?”

I glance over my shoulder to find the devil himself.

Milo. Standing there. Wanting to dance with me.

You have got to be kidding.

But Cap, the rat bastard, doesn’t hesitate to agree, and I mentally curse him as he walks away, leaving me committed to a dance I didn’t agree to.

Milo doesn’t hesitate to pull me gently into his arms, and I hate how easily I let him lead me.

He sways us to the music, and I notice that he doesn’t keep things as PG as Cap. Our chests touch, and his strong hands brush against my skin as he keeps me inside the safety of his embrace.

Goose bumps pebble my bare arms, and tears threaten to flood my eyes.

And when Ray LaMontagne’s voice filters in from the speakers and he starts singing the lyrics of “Hold You in My Arms,” one lone tear makes its escape and slips down my cheek.

Discreetly, I avert my eyes and wipe it away with my fingers.

God, I hate how good this feels. How good he feels.

I both hate it and love it, and I hate that I love it.

And I miss him…so bad. I miss being able to smell the soft hints of his cologne. I miss hearing