All Chapters of My Brother's rich best friends: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

HARRISONBut it’s not the bad kind of drowning—not the kind where you’re slipping under with no way back. This is something slower. Heavier. The kind where you realize you’ve already gone too deep to pretend you’re still safe.She tastes like peppermint and coffee. Her fingers tighten in the hair at the nape of my neck, and I press a hand to the small of her back, holding her to me like I can make this moment last longer just by wanting it hard enough.Her hips shift. Tentative. Questioning. I groan against her mouth. Can’t help it. She breaks the kiss first, eyes searching mine. “I don’t want to be a mistake.”“You never could be.”She rests her forehead against mine. “I feel like I’m floating and anchored all at once.”“I know the feeling. Ever since the elevator.”Her lips brush mine again, featherlight, then she pulls back and slides off my lap. I follow her with my eyes as she stands, then turns and walks toward the bathroom. She pauses at the door and glances over her shoulder.

PARKERDownstairs in our little apartment, things settle into a familiar rhythm—movies, microwave popcorn, warm fleece blankets piled too high. The kids pick something animated and overly musical, and I let them. I don’t have the energy to debate plot holes in a show about magical woodland creatures solving interpersonal drama through song.If only humans had it so easy.Lyra curls into my side, her head tucked beneath my arm. Levi stretches out at my feet, using my calf as a pillow.I don’t even bother changing out of my jeans. I just sink into the couch and let myself be theirs again, fully. Not Parker the assistant, not Parker the mess tangled up in three men’s lives—just Mom. Their mom.The knot in my chest loosens again, just a little.Halfway through the movie, I have to pee. I wait as long as I can, not wanting to break the moment, but eventually I shift Lyra off me with an apologetic kiss to her forehead and shuffle down the hallway to the bathroom.It’s the third time tonight

JACKGood. Because if he even hinted at the possibility, I’d have to reconsider working here, and I’ve grown accustomed to my career. I don’t want to start over somewhere else. “Then what are we doing?”“I’m trying to keep the gala from turning into a referendum on my decision-making.”“It already is,” Harrison says. “You just haven’t responded yet.”Silence falls again. Heavy. Charged. He’s not wrong, and we all know it. I finish the last of my coffee. Cold now. Bitter in a different way. Then I look at Gavin. Really look at him.And I see the weight on him—the pressure of being his mother’s son in a company she built with gold-plated claws. He’s trying to run forward with her hand still clenched in his shoulder blades.It won’t work. I clear my throat. “She’s testing you.”“No shit,” he says without malice.“She wants to know if she can still pull your strings.”His jaw clenches. “She can’t.”“Then prove it.”He meets my eyes.And I say, quietly but clearly, “It’s time she understoo

GAVIN“You want to know what Parker’s real crime is?” I ask. “It’s not her résumé. It’s that she didn’t beg for your approval before being good at her job.”Vivian says nothing.“You don’t get to sabotage her because she didn’t kiss the ring.”“This isn’t about her.”“Of course it is.”“No,” she snaps. “It’s about you. Letting your hormones compromise your leadership. You’ve gotten involved with someone you can’t protect. Not forever.”I step back. There it is. The core of it. The threat.She’s not just scared of Parker. She’s scared of what Parker represents—an emotional vulnerability she spent her whole life trying to train out of me. If I care for someone else, she loses her power over me.“Well,” I say. “We’ll see about that.”Vivian narrows her eyes. “If you let her bring this company down, I will not bail you out.”“You won’t have to. Because she’s not going to.”“She’s reckless. She doesn’t understand who she’s dealing with.”“She’s handling your bullshit better than most of th

HARRISONThe sun is warm. Her hair is catching the light. And for the first time in what feels like a month, things don’t feel like they’re falling apart.She looks up halfway through the meal and says, “You know this doesn’t fix everything.”“I know.”“I’m still your assistant.”“I’m still your CFO.”She tilts her head. “You think we can keep pretending?”“No.”She sighs, like she knew I’d say that. Then she says, “Sometimes I think professionalism is a scam.”I glance up. “Picked that up too?”She stirs her lemonade with her straw. “I mean, what does it even mean? Never cry at work? Never need anything? Never fuck up?”“Never want anything,” I say.She lifts her eyes.I lean forward, resting my arms on the table. “You want my definition?”“Hit me.”“Professionalism is the ability to pretend you’re not a human being. To look someone in the eye and pretend their judgment doesn’t hurt. To want something and swallow it anyway. To sit in a room where you’re not welcome and act like you e