The Billionaire’s Forbidden Little Sister

by Monroe, Max

  She can’t believe I’m standing here either.

  What in the ever-loving-fuck?

  Lena

  One minute I’m flying high off Loro’s successful runway show, and the next, I’m plummeting from the sky and smacking straight into the proverbial fucking ground.

  Holy mother of designer heels and unexpected men.

  It’s him.

  I’m backstage at New York Fashion Week, after one of the most exciting experiences of my life, and yet I feel like I’m outside my body, hovering over myself and trying to discern reality from fiction.

  It can’t be him…can it?

  I’m tempted, damn near seconds away from reaching out with my index finger and poking his chest just to test the truth, but my brother’s voice pulls me from my trancelike state.

  “Lena, this is Theo, one of my best friends,” he introduces us. “Theo, this is my baby sister, Lena.”

  Lord Almighty, this is real.

  He is real.

  I know I should say something. I know I should, like, do something with my mouth right now like form actual words.

  But fuck.

  It’s Mr. Serious.

  Mr. Business of Pleasure—who gave me a whole fuck of a lot of pleasure three weeks ago.

  It’s painfully handsome, dimpled-cheeks, I-don’t-need-a-fucking-introduction-because-I-still-can’t-get-him-out-of-my-head Theo.

  He is right here, standing in front of me, and I’m pretty sure this is what a nervous breakdown feels like.

  Numb limbs. Sweaty palms. Shaking hands. Racing mind.

  And a complete inability to do anything but just stand here, staring at him.

  What are the odds that the man I left behind in Positano, my sexy Italian rendezvous, is one of my brother’s friends?

  Pretty sure he said best friends…

  Oh, sweet mother of insanity.

  When the silence stretches out too long, my brother starts to glance between the two of us.

  And that’s when I somehow find a way to push words past my lips.

  “Theo, wow, it’s…uh…” I pause. It’s…what, Lena? Fucking insane? Crazy? My mind races with a million different responses, but what is probably the worst response for this moment slips past my tongue. “It’s…uh…nice to meet you.”

  It’s nice to meet you?

  Good God, like I didn’t just spend an entire week with this man. Like I somehow managed to forget about him. Like I haven’t been thinking about him every single day since I wrote that awful goodbye note.

  What the hell, Lena? What is wrong with you?

  Basically, every-fucking-thing.

  Vulnerability and insecurity tighten my chest, while my brain struggles to grab ahold of a single emotion.

  Nerves prickle the skin of my arms, and guilt and shame are so present, my stomach feels like it’s twisted into a thousand tiny knots.

  Fuck, I’m a total chickenshit.

  But instead of reining in the lunacy that I’m just tossing out like candy on Halloween, I punctuate my crazy, completely untrue statement by holding out my hand toward him.

  Oh yeah, Lena. That’s real nice.

  Theo blinks three times. Looks at me. Looks at my hand. Then, after a barely-there sigh leaves his lips, he gently wraps his hand around mine and shakes it.

  And, hell, it’s painful how good just a simple touch from him feels.

  “Yeah,” he says, clearing the cobwebs from his throat and letting go of my hand. “It’s…nice to meet you too, Lena. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you from your brother.”

  The way he says it is all wrong.

  His lips are in a firm line. His jaw is tight with tension.

  And his normally warm blue eyes are arctic.

  Yep. It’s official. I am an asshole.

  But, seriously, what else was I supposed to do?

  I’m no mind reader, but I don’t think Cap would’ve responded too kindly to me outwardly acknowledging just how well I know Theo…

  “Oh wow, Theo? Is that really you? I mean, it’s been three weeks since you friendshipped the fuck out of me, but here you are! How crazy is that? And you know my brother? Well, I’ll be damned! You know what my favorite memory of our little rendezvous was? It was that time I let you slide inside me without a condom and then begged you not to stop because it felt so good…”

  Pretty sure that would’ve gone over like Brogan’s bathrobe at one of my mom’s snooty dinner parties.

  “Well, that was kind of awkward,” my brother mutters on a laugh, but somehow manages to stay oblivious to just how awkward it all truly is right now. “How about the next time you two kids see each other, at Milo and Maybe’s party, you try to act like you’ve been in the presence of other humans before, yeah?”

  Milo and Maybe’s party.

  Next weekend.

  And the hits just keep on coming.

  “Wow, thanks, man. You’re a real pro at breaking the ice.” Theo forces what I know is not a natural smile to his lips and just shakes his head. “And, you know, not making things more awkward.”

  His reaction makes me feel irritated and, besides myself, there is only one other person that irritation is directed toward.

  “Don’t be a dick, Cap,” I say and narrow my eyes at my idiot, still thankfully, clueless brother.

  Theo laughs. A real, genuine laugh that he can’t hold back, and relief inflates my lungs like a balloon while my fingers tingle with the temptation to reach out and touch his mouth and his cheeks and the sexy five-day stubble on his chin.

  My emotions are all over the damn place, and sweet Lucifer, if hell was a roller coaster ride, I’m certain it would feel exactly like this.

  “Hey now,” Cap says through a chuckle. “You two just met, no need to start ganging up on me.” Then he narrows his eyes at Theo. “And just so you know, this isn’t a free pass for you to start spouting bullshit like Harrison.”

  I have no idea who Harrison is, but I’m strung up too tight to ask. Every cell inside my body might as well be a live wire that’s seconds away from sparking into flames.

  I look between Cap and Theo and repeat that circuit a good three times, trying to find something to say, but the words don’t come.

  “Lena, darling!” Loro’s voice fills my ears, and I glance over my shoulder to see him waving me over. “Come over here for a minute, lovely!”

  When I move my gaze back to Cap, and then Theo, I open my mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a pathetic, “Uh…”

  “Looks like you need to get back to it.” My brother chuckles and wraps me up into another hug. “And I’m so damn proud of you, sis,” he whispers into my ear before letting me go.

  “Thanks, Cappy,” I whisper back, but when I meet Theo’s eyes again, there really isn’t anything else I can do besides continue on with my ridiculous lie.

  “It was nice to see you, Theo,” I say, but my gaze locks with his, and I don’t hide the apology that sits on my tongue. Fuck. I’m so sorry.

  “You too, Lena,” he says, but his words are so damn neutral that I can’t discern what he’s thinking or feeling.

  I can’t decide if he’s pissed or apathetic or if he’s been thinking about me like I’ve been thinking about him.

  I can’t tell anything.

  Until he drops a bomb of a reminder.

  “And I’m looking forward to seeing you again,” he adds. “Next weekend. At Milo and Maybe’s party.”

  His smile is knowing. And his eyes, well, they are knowing too, wordlessly saying that this conversation will be resumed then—next weekend.

  Holy shit.

  Theo

  “Thanks, man.” I adjust my tie as I slide out of the back of my driver Tim’s Escalade. “Appreciate the ride.”

  “What time do you need me back here, Mr. Cruz?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder and meeting my eyes.

  “It’s Saturday. Take the night off and spend it with your family.” I wave him off. “I’ll ge
t a taxi home.”

  “You sure, boss?”

  “Positive,” I say before shutting the door.

  Tim pulls away from the curb, and I stare up at the softly lit sign that reads McKittrick Hotel.

  Tonight is my good friend Milo Ives and his fiancée Maybe’s party.

  Both content in their relationship and pretty much never wanting to spend time apart, they decided to forgo the usual bachelor and bachelorette parties filled with strip clubs and barhopping and celebrate the festivities together.

  Truthfully, I think Milo didn’t want to leave anything up to chance with either Thatch or Cap stepping in to plan something outrageous for him. It doesn’t matter that planning the party wouldn’t have been assigned to them—they have a special way of inserting themselves.

  I take a deep inhale and steel myself for the night that lies ahead.

  Unanswered questions roll around inside my brain as I step into the popular Chelsea establishment and make my way onto the elevator.

  After one tap to the button that reads Rooftop and a quick ride toward the sky, I step off the cart and into the garden oasis that is Gallow Green.

  With foliage and greenery and a secret garden vibe, the expansive space is well-known for being otherworldly. Even though the rooftop is sandwiched between skyscrapers, you can hardly tell you’re in the city.

  It’s intimate and luxurious—and most definitely costs a pretty penny.

  But deep down, while I’m happy for the lovebirds, I don’t give a fuck about any of it.

  My eyes scan what I can see of the venue between all of the fucking twinkle lights and foliage, but the one person I’m wanting to see here is nowhere to be found.

  Lena.

  It’s been a week since I saw her backstage after Loro’s show, and her presence is all but imprinted like a tattoo on my mind at this point.

  Of course, it shouldn’t be. At all.

  She’s the wild woman with the endless eyes and enchanting free spirit—the woman I had the best unexpected week of my life with—but she’s also Cap’s forbidden little sister.

  No matter how much I try, I can’t seem to prioritize the latter.

  I just want to talk to her. Really talk to her—not sit through superficial bullshit where we pretend not to know each other again.

  Although I was caught off guard at first—and maybe a little hurt that she could shove aside our week together so cavalierly—I can’t actually blame her for her reaction.

  I was pretty damn shocked and tongue-tied myself, and none of us are perfect in high-stress situations. In the end, her quick thinking is probably the reason the whole venue and hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes didn’t go up in a blazing inferno at Cap’s hands.

  When I don’t see Lena after a fifth scan of the crowd, I settle for watching the couple at the center of it. Milo and Maybe are at one of two bars hidden within Gallow Green’s garden oasis, laughing and chatting with a few of our closest friends—Kline and his wife, Georgia, Wes and his wife, Winnie, Thatch and his wife, Cassie, and the only other single guy in our group besides me, Harrison.

  “Theo!” Harrison calls toward me, a certain sense of desperation on his face. Apparently, I’m like a lifeboat of singledom. I weave through the scattered minglers easily and step up to join our group of friends at the bar. “How’s it hangin’, man?” Harrison slaps a hand to my back, and I can tell by the lazy smile stamped on his face he’s already a few drinks deep.

  “Pretty good.” I smirk. “I see you’ve already dived headfirst into the festivities, huh?”

  “All in the name of love!” He lifts his pint of beer toward Milo and Maybe. “And to these two tying the knot in two weeks!”

  “Cheers to that, motherfluffers!” Thatch chimes in, raising his glass in the air and taking a swig.

  Maybe giggles, and Milo smiles down at her like a man whose eyes are blind to anyone but her.

  “Aw,” Georgia coos, going all heart-eyes as she watches them. “You guys are so adorable. Aren’t they adorable, Kline?”

  “The cutest,” he says, an amused smirk cresting his lips.

  Thatch sniffles. “Goddamn, I feel like I’m in the middle of a fucking rom-com. Right at the motherfluffing end, when the guy gets the girl and everything works out.”

  “Aw, T.” Cassie grins and pats a gentle hand to her big sentimental ogre’s back. “No need to get emotional, honey.”

  “Can’t help it, Crazy. You know I’m a sucker for an HEA.”

  “Yeah.” Wes snorts. “We all know about your love for HEAs. Hell, the fact that I even know what the fuck H-E-A stands for is because of you, you sensitive bastard.”

  Winnie grins, and Thatch looks at Wes, his emotions switching from happy tears to downright mischievous.

  “I think now is the perfect time to make an announcement,” he says and lifts his glass toward Wes. “I have decided that Wes Lancaster has earned a lifetime membership to the Billionaire Book Club. And because he lets his pretty wife do most of his reading, Winnie Lancaster is an official honorary member.”

  Winnie giggles. Wes groans.

  “You’re such a dick.”

  “Aw, I love you too, Whitney, you broody motherfluffer.”

  “What the hell?” Cassie spits. “Why don’t I get to be an honorary member?”

  “Because you, honey, are a sex pusher who barely leaves my cock alone long enough to let me read.”

  “Pffft. Whatever.” She raises a knowing brow toward him. “Like you’d want it any other way.”

  “Damn straight, Crazy.” He wraps his big arms around her and pulls her close to his chest. “And, tonight, when we get home, I’m going to show you just how much I love your love for the Supercock.”

  “Promise?”

  He nods. “I swear on the Supercock, honey.”

  “If you break that promise…” She pauses and kisses him hard on the mouth. “Then I will break your dick.”

  I grimace at the visual, but Thatch takes it all in stride, laughing and kissing his insane wife on the lips.

  Two psychotic peas in a pod of crazy, that’s Thatch and Cassie Kelly.

  Thankfully, their banter is entertaining enough that no one expects me to make any witty remarks. I’m too distracted to put a sentence together, let alone say something intelligent.

  I glance back to the door again—I am pathetic—but still, no Lena.

  Jesus. Get it together, man.

  I run a hand through my hair and give myself a mental kick in the ass. It’s time to become an active participant in this party. Milo is my friend, and he deserves my focus during the celebration of his upcoming marriage.

  Right?

  I glance to the door one final time, and then heave a deep sigh.

  Fucking hell.

  Thankfully, one of the bartenders grabs my attention and asks me what I want to drink.

  I order a whiskey, and upon acceptance of the glass, lose myself studying the amber liquid and crystalized ice cubes in a defiant attempt to shun the door’s allure.

  And the night pretty much continues on in that manner—my group of friends chatting and laughing it up, while I try like hell to act like I’m having fun.

  More people arrive.

  Maybe’s brother, Evan, and his wife. Quincy Black and his wife, Emory—who also happens to be Milo’s cousin.

  I have a short burst of hope as I remember the fact that Milo is about to marry his best friend’s sister, but it doesn’t last long.

  After the arrival of some of Milo’s work acquaintances and Trent and his wife Greer, Cap and Ruby show up and blow a hole right through the center of it.

  Because Cap isn’t Evan. Cap isn’t anyone but himself.

  He laughs at something one of the other guys says, winks, and then flips the bird the way only he can. I try to imagine telling him about my week with his sister, and my chest tightens like a vise. Yeah. That conversation would flop like a fish out of fucking water.

  But th
en I catch myself looking behind the group to see if she’s finally arrived.

  Fuck. I feel like I’m playing with fire here…

  “Congrats, you guys!” Greer pulls Maybe into a big hug. “I can’t wait for the big day!”

  “Girl, me too! I’m so excited!” Ruby joins in on the hug, and Maybe giggles while Emory focuses on getting a drink from the bar while occasionally smiling in their direction. “I can’t believe it’s only two weeks away!”

  It’s a full-on girl lovefest, and Cap is having none of it.

  “Hey now,” he chimes in. “What about our wedding, little Ruby?”

  She reaches out to playfully slap him on the chest. “Oh my God, stop being so dramatic. Of course, I’m excited about our wedding, you idiot.”

  An amused, devilish smirk crests his lips. “You know what I think, doll?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think since we’re both excited about it, we should move up the date.”

  “Cap,” she sighs. “Not this again. May 2nd isn’t that far away.”

  “Not that far away? It’s a fucking year away!”

  “More like eight months,” Ruby mutters, and Cap looks down at her with a little glint in his eye.

  “One day soon, I’m going to whisk you away in the middle of the night, take you to an undisclosed but very gorgeous location, and give you no other option but to marry me right then.”

  “That sounds like a kidnapping,” she teases, and he pulls her tight into his arms.

  “Don’t worry, Ruby. I know a good lawyer or two.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “Yeah, well, you only have yourself to blame,” he retorts and kisses her forehead. “You made me this way. Before you, I didn’t give a shit about marriage.”

  Ruby’s responding smile lights up the room. “I love you,” she whispers toward him. “And I love that you want to marry me right now.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she says. “But the wedding date is set, and you’re going to have to hold your horses.”

  He winks. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

  She winks right back. “We will. In eight months. On May 2nd.”

  Harrison starts laughing his ass off, and Cap looks away from him fiancée to narrow his eyes.