Playing the Player: Falling for Best friend's sister. (The Hartford Brothers Book 2)

by JA Low

  “You think I’m being dramatic?” I ask my friends, a little hurt that they would think that of me.

  “Not dramatic. That’s not the right word. We think you should at least talk to him,” Audrey adds softly.

  “What about you?” I ask Rainn. I know she won’t sugarcoat things.

  “You two have always confused me. You both want each other, but in the same breath, you don’t. But you get upset when the other moves on, but you both refuse to move on with each other. Forgive him or don’t, either way you’re still going to be climbing that fine man every single damn time you see him so all this,” she states, waving her hands in the hair, “is all pointless. You are getting stressed and angry for no reason. Who the fuck cares who he is getting it on with because you know that boy’s dick is so good you will still climb it and ride it all the way to O-Town?” The make-up artists try to stifle a giggle at Rainn’s comments.

  “You make me sound weak.” I pout, taking in Rainn’s thoughts.

  “Babe, you’re not weak, that is not at all what I am saying,” Rainn says, trying to reassure me. “It’s just you are killing yourself with jealously. Worry for what? Use that man for the glorious dick creation has provided him with. Have fun, it is what it is with him. Forget everything else, you can’t control that and just control what you can, which is him giving you orgasms on your terms on your timeline.”

  Rainn has a point. I know we have said that it’s just sex, but somehow, we keep messing it up, but maybe I’m looking at this all wrong. I have the power, the control, I determine when and where I need an orgasm. I want nothing else from Remi other than his dick, fingers, and mouth. That’s all I should be worried about.

  “Guessing Rainn has made you see things differently judging by the face you are making?” Audrey asks with a grin.

  “She has. But I will reiterate a no hooking up with Dior edict,” I tell them both, which has us all laughing.

  “And what about Miles?” Rainn questions me.

  “What about him?”

  “You still have a thing for him?” she asks.

  “Of course. He is everything I wish Remi could be.”

  “So, what you’re saying is if Remi was more like Miles, you would want Remi?” Rainn asks, raising her brows at me.

  “No. I’m not saying that at all. Miles and Remi are two completely different guys.”

  “They are two completely different brothers,” Audrey adds unhelpfully.

  “So?”

  “You just cut Remi out because he kissed one of your friends by accident, but yet you expect Remi to be okay with you pursuing his brother?” Rainn asks, as her eyes narrow on me. Why the hell are they ganging up on me? I glare back at Rainn as an uneasy tension swirls between us.

  “You saying I can’t have them both?”

  Rainn’s eyes widen in surprise at my comment. “Oh, no, not saying that at all. Difference is, when that kind of thing happens, all parties are aware.”

  “Whatever,” I say, pouting, putting an end to the uncomfortable conversation. I don’t want to deal with my hypocritical feelings right now. Yes, I know it’s not right that I continue to sleep with Remi on the down low while lusting after Miles. I get how messed up that all is. My feelings are confused. Miles is the better person to be in a relationship with. He is dependable, caring, he saves lives, and has his shit together. Then there’s Remi, the bad boy player, you know everything about him is bad news, and yet like a moth to a flame, I’m drawn to him. Yeah, I’m fucked up.

  Once we have our hair and make-up done, we get dressed and make our way down to the limousine waiting downstairs for us. These charity events are a little more conservative than we’re used to and as much as I would love to have worn something ultra-extravagant, I’ll save it for the Met Gala instead. I still want to stand out but be elegant, so I chose a stunning fluorescent lime green off the shoulder evening dress that molds to my body like a second skin. There is no way in the world you could not spot me tonight. I wear my blonde hair up in a messy French braid, minimal jewelry, just diamond earrings, bracelet, and an enormous diamond ring, all on loan from a famous jewelry company in partnership for photos on my socials. They are so beautiful. How can I not show them off? Everyone knows with the three of us we are going to be late because of the million and one photos we take, so Audrey’s family has left without us. Hey, the three of us are always hustling, you can’t deny we don’t work for our money. Eventually we are on our way and thankfully traffic isn’t bad, and the event isn’t too far away. We have done this red carpet many times before, started off hidden behind our parents to now walking alone and working the media's attention to our advantage. As soon as the three of us step out of the limousine, the paparazzi are screaming at us to turn this way, turn that. Reporters are screaming at Audrey for comments on her brother’s divorce. Like a pro, she ignores them and continues talking about the charity her family’s event is supporting.

  “Bitches, I’m here!” Dior screams as she steps out of her car and sees us on the red carpet. Audrey cringes at our friend’s cursing on the red carpet. Dior didn’t grow up in this life. She doesn’t understand the way New York society works. She thinks that because she’s famous on the internet, it translates to everywhere else, it doesn’t. This is old money and what comes with that sometimes is judgment, and Dior doesn’t give a shit, but we do.

  “Careful what you say,” Rainn explains to Dior as she gives her a couple of air kisses.

  “Oops, sorry. I forgot where I was for a moment,” she says, fluttering her long lashes at us. Then she hears the paparazzi calling her name, and she’s gone, posing, and answering the reporter’s questions, getting her time in the limelight. Can’t deny the girl works it. Letting her have a couple of moments before telling her we are going inside. We search the large table list, find the table we are all sitting at, and head on over to it.

  I stop in my tracks as I see Remi standing there with his brothers, Miles and Stirling, each one of the Hartford boys looking devilishly handsome in their custom tuxedos. Honestly, it’s not fair to the rest of the men here this evening; they really stand out amongst this geriatric crowd. You can see the cougars circle, smelling the young blood, it’s rather laughable that they think they are being subtle with their penetrating stares. I guess their husbands don’t care because they are too busy flirting with the waitstaff.

  “I’ve got to do my rounds,” Audrey tells us before she disappears into the crowd; it’s her family’s event she must schmooze.

  “Oh, well, hello there,” Dior purrs, locking her eyes on the Hartford brothers. My stomach sinks. I told her after her party that Remi was my ex and that seeing them together freaked me out. Dior was so apologetic about kissing Remi that I forgave her. And before we can stop her, she is on her way over to where the guys are standing. Shit. Rainn rolls her eyes and shakes her head and follows Dior. How am I supposed to say, I don’t want you to hook up with Miles because I have a crush on him, but I’m too chickenshit to do anything about it? Oh, and don’t touch Stirling either, because Audrey likes him too. Just because Dior is a flirt doesn’t mean she’s going to take them to the bathroom and blow them.

  “Ladies.” Miles greets us, pressing kisses to each of our cheeks. I notice Remi keeps his distance from Dior, which is kind of comforting, but Miles, his eyes seem to be firmly engrossed with her inflated chest. Who can compete with double Ds like hers? Stirling looks uncomfortable, and his face is like stone as he endures Dior’s flirtations. Phew, at least he doesn’t seem interested. “Nell, my girl. How have you been?” Miles asks happily as he pulls me into a hug. “You going to save me a dance tonight?” Is he flirting with me?

  “Sure thing,” I say, giving him a wide smile. I look over at Remi, who has a scowl on his face as those green eyes narrow on his brother’s hand around my waist. Stirling’s eyes narrow on his brother’s hand too, and he looks between Miles and Remi. I can see the wheels turning in his mind as he wonders what the hell is going on.
How much does Stirling know about Remi and me? Does Miles know too? And if he does, why does he flirt with me still? Then, from the corner of my eye, I see a tiny little blonde and realize it’s my sister, Portia. I haven’t seen her in ages now that she’s in college, so I remove myself from the group and follow my sister.

  28

  Remi

  I’ve been trying to make amends to Nell since messing up over the whole Dior thing. I honestly, hand on my heart, did not know that the blonde hitting me up was a friend of Nell’s, otherwise I would never have gone there. I know it’s hypocritical of Nell to demand from me I don’t hook up with her friends, all the while crushing on my brother. It’s fucked up. But I know deep down inside she’s not really interested in him. She thinks he’s the good brother, Saint Miles, when in reality he is more of a player than I am. The thing is, I’m honest about it.

  I watch Nell excuse herself from Miles’s grasp and rush after her sister, who looks like she’s arrived at the event.

  “You, okay?” Stirling asks, taking in the white knuckles gripping my glass as he stares between Miles and me.

  “Yeah. He’s just being Miles. He’s harmless. Plus, I think he’s mesmerized by Dior’s tits, anyway,” I say, grinning as I take a sip of my whiskey. Let’s see if Nell is still interested in Saint Miles after she finds out he’s fucked her friend tonight.

  “You seriously think he would do that?” Stirling asks.

  “Um, yeah. This is Miles we are talking about,” I say, taking another sip of my drink, watching Miles flirt with Dior. Don’t worry, Nell, I’ll be there to pick up the pieces when Saint Miles crushes your idea of him.

  We eventually walk on over to our table, and low and behold, Nell and I are at the same table, and look at that, we are sitting beside each other. I take my seat and wait for the fireworks to begin when Nell notices where she is sitting.

  “Hey there, stranger.” Portia chuckles, taking a seat beside me on the other side.

  “There’s enough free champagne going around. I don’t think I need to steal you any bottles,” I tell her, raising a brow in her direction.

  “Maybe my sister falls for that grumpy, bad boy act, but I don’t,” Portia says, glaring at me.

  “What happened to you? I remember when you were nice.”

  This makes her laugh. “I can be nice when I want to be. You just make it so easy to mess with you,” she says, fluttering her long lashes at me. I’m fighting a smile, but I can’t hold it in any longer. “So, how are things going with my sister?” she asks, looking over where Nell is standing searching for her name tag. We both watch as her eyes land on her name and the person seated beside her. “She doesn’t look happy,” Portia whispers.

  “That’s a pretty standard look when she sees me.”

  “Did you mess up again?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I guess. I kissed Dior but didn’t know they were friends,” I explain to Portia as I play with the cutlery on the table setting.

  “Figures, she’s a slut.”

  I choke on my breath at Portia’s words. Nell gives me a weird look while Portia tries to hold back a set of giggles. “Portia. Oh my god, you can’t say that.”

  “Yeah, I can. Because she is. She loves coming to these parties looking for a sugar daddy. I bet you fifty dollars she’ll be blowing one of these fat, bald guys in the toilets after midnight,” Portia comments sharply.

  “Fuck. Portia,” I warn her again.

  “You don’t want to take the bet because you’ll lose. I thought you made good money being a polo player. Did you lose it all on hookers and cocaine?”

  Fucking hell. “What the hell, Portia. You can’t say that; if someone heard you, they would report me.”

  “Only if it’s true. Unless it is?” she says, raising a brow at me.

  “No. I don’t need to pay for sex,” I hiss angrily at her.

  “If you did, Dior would be up for it.”

  This girl is driving me nuts. “Stop it,” I say, turning my attention to Nell, hoping to shut down this obscene conversation with Portia. “Looks like you're stuck with me again.”

  “Looks like I am.” She fidgets with the menu.

  “Have you been getting my flowers?” I ask because I haven’t heard from her.

  “Yes, Rhonda appreciates them.”

  I knew that would be the case. “As long as a beautiful woman appreciates them, then that’s all that matters.” Silence falls between us, but I can see by the subtle twitches across her lips that she is dying to say more.

  “Why her?” she asks softly, her eyes lifting to where Dior is seated next to Miles, who she’s finding extremely funny by her loud laughter. Miles is not funny.

  “I was drunk. She whispered dirty things into my ear. The woman I wanted was there with someone else, so I thought, why not,” I tell her honestly. She mulls my words over while turning her champagne glass around in her hand.

  “It hurt seeing you and her together,” she says, looking up at me through those long black lashes before shaking her head, frowning, looking annoyed with herself that she told me that. “You and I have gotten complicated again.”

  “Don’t think we ever stopped being complicated,” I say, agreeing with her.

  “Sounds toxic,” she says, giving me a sad smile.

  “Probably is, but I can’t seem to break the cycle. Can you?” I ask her honestly. She sucks in a breath and closes her eyes for the briefest of moments.

  “I don’t know,” she tells me. “It’s been going on for so long I don’t know how to break whatever this pull is between us.”

  “You think there’s something wrong with us?” I ask her.

  “My friends seem to think there is,” she answers quickly.

  “What do you think?” I push.

  “I think we should talk about this later,” she says as the staff brings out our first course.

  “I’m going to hold you to it, Nell,” I tell her. As our eyes meet, she gives me a small nod and turns her attention back to her friends.

  The night continues with lots of drinking, talking, and laughing happening at our table. Everyone is having fun and getting along, which is a first with all our complicated relationships. I’m trying to find the right moment to have that chat with Nell, but she’s having a good time with her friends, so I leave it. I’m sure we can catch up later.

  “You owe me fifty bucks,” Portia squeals into my ear as she sits down beside me at the empty table.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, my mind a little foggy after one too many whiskeys.

  “Press play,” Portia states, handing me her phone.

  I do. Oh shit. I quickly shut it off and hand it back to her. The image of Dior blowing some old guy in the toilet is not what I wanted to see tonight.

  “What the—Portia. You can’t have this on your phone,” I tell her angrily.

  “Please, it was a proof of life. A bet’s a bet, Remi. Now pay up,” she asks, holding out her hand. I grab my wallet and hand her a hundred-dollar bill because I don’t care enough to ask for change.

  “What is wrong with you?” I ask, glaring at her.

  “What?” she asks, giving me an innocent look. I just stare at her, perplexed. “Fine. There’s something off about Dior. I don’t like her, but Nell, for some stupid reason, does.”

  “And you think showing her this video will make her kick her friend to the curb?”

  “That was purely to win the bet. No, Nell will have to work out Dior is shit in her own time,” Portia states, shrugging her shoulders. Wow. Okay.

  “You should use your skills for good, not evil.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s a blessing and a curse to be me,” she exclaims with a chuckle before jumping back out of her chair and disappearing into the night. That girl is trouble.

  I decide to head on out of the venue, sit in the outside courtyard, and look up at the night sky.

  “There you are,” Nell says, surprising me as she takes a seat beside
me. “Déjà vu, isn’t it?”

  Huh? Then I realize where we’re seated and where we are. Rhys got married in this same venue, and Nell and I disappeared out into the night, not too dissimilar to now. “Seems like a lifetime ago,” I muse, stretching out against the chair.

  “It certainly does,” she agrees with me. “And yet here we are again talking about you and me.”

  “We don’t seem to get it right, do we?” I say, letting out a heavy sigh.

  “Nope. Maybe we are gluttons for punishment,” she adds.

  “Maybe that’s our kink,” I joke.

  “You think what we are doing is a kink?” she asks, amused by my train of thought.

  “Well, I’m not an expert on kinks but it feels like it, or maybe we’re slow learners.”

  “Kink sounds better.” She chuckles. “What do you think it is, then?” We both sit there for a couple of moments trying to work out what weird ass kink we could have to explain the stupid things we do to each other.

  “Not sure if I want to Google it to find out,” I say, chuckling. This makes Nell laugh, too. “I miss this, Nell. Us being able to hang out have fun like we used to.”

  “Before sex complicated it all,” she adds. I nod in agreement. “Maybe we need to stop having sex.” Silence falls between us at the thought of stopping everything altogether. I dare turn my face to her, and we both end up bursting out laughing. “Remi, I’m being serious.”

  “I know. I am too,” I say, trying to keep a straight face.

  “We’ve tried everything else except no sex,” she says more firmly. Oh. Nell’s being serious.

  “Not sure if I’m down with that,” I tell her honestly.

  “You’re not prepared to repair our friendship?” she questions me.

  “That’s not what I said nor mean.”

  “Sex is fucking everything up between us. I don’t want us to end up hating each other, Remi.”

  I understand her concerns and maybe she’s right. Sex complicates things between us. If we take the sex away, we may eventually rebuild the friendship we had all those years ago. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think I agree with you.”