Page 74 of Filthy Rich Brother's Best Friends

Her laugh is low and bitter. “All of you.”

I nod again, slower this time.

She doesn’t mention him by name, but I know she means Miles too. I’ve seen it in his face every time he sees her. His whole expression changes. The man tracks her every movement.

“I’m not asking you to figure it out right now,” I continue. “Or to give me answers you don’t have. No matter what you choose, I’m not walking away. You need to know that.”

Her head lifts, eyes finding mine.

“I’m not going anywhere, Lola,” I tell her. “You’re allowed to be overwhelmed. You’re allowed to be confused. None of it scares me.”

Her jaw tightens. “It should.”

I reach for her again, slipping my fingers between hers. “It doesn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m crazy about you. I’m not here because it’s easy. I’m here because I only want you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” I tell her. “I don’t care who else is in the picture. We can figure it out together.”

She swallows hard. She looks down at our joined hands and squeezes mine gently.

“You’re sure?” she asks, barely above a whisper.

I nod. “Yeah. I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“What are you talking about, baby? You deserve the best and we both know Iamthe best.”

I don’t want to scare Lola away. She’s still untangling everything in her head, so I don’t push for more conversations. Instead, I start showing up in ways I know she won’t ask for.

That first morning, I have a smoothie delivered to her studio. I know she skipped breakfast because I watched her walk out the door with not enough time to eat.

I start offering help on the admin tasks I know overwhelm her. She hesitates, but eventually agrees. So, I sort invoices, clear out her inbox as much as I can, and try to make things run a little more smoothly for her.

She stands in the doorway when I’m done, watching me. “You didn’t have to?—”

“I wanted to.”

The next few days, I continue.

She throws her arms around me the first time I show up with lunch, and she eats the entire meal, raving about how good it is.

I don’t flirt as much. She already knows how I feel, so I don’t need to. And I want her to know this is real for me.

She lets me in more than she has before. Not all at once, but little by little.

She falls asleep on the couch next to me one night. Another night, she calls just to say her day was shit and doesn’t hang up even when neither of us talks.

It’s not about grand gestures. Or trying to win.

It’s just about being there.

There are still moments where she pulls away. She’ll collapse into herself and close the proverbial door. I don’t knock. I wait patiently on the other side until she opens it again. And she does, eventually.