Page 51 of Don't Fall For Your Brother's Best Friend

Tripp: Millie? From the bookstore? Why?

Paxton: Tripp, don't be an asshole. Millie and Hartford are friends and Brock is dating her. You’d know this stuff if you were around a little more.

Anya: He was just asking, no need to get upset. Seems like everyone will be there, sounds like a fun day.

Callum: Do Mom and Dad know you’ve invited a house full?

Paxton: No, I thought we’d surprise them and not have enough food for everyone.

Hartford: Paxton, stop. Yes, of course they know.

Shepherd: I’m bringing extra beer.

Do you want me to make anything?

Callum: Do you want to piss off my mom?

Anya: Why are all my brothers such assholes all the time? A simple, no thanks, would’ve been great.

I chuckle, loving how Anya comes to my defense.

I leave that group message and pull up Anya’s name.

It’s hot seeing you get defensive.

Anya: LOL they just need to chill out.

This is going to be the first time we’re around everyone. You gonna be able to keep your hands off me?

Anya: You might want to worry about that because I’m not going to be wearing panties.

I will fuck you in the bathroom with no regrets. Don’t tease me.

Anya: I guess you won’t know if I’m teasing or not. See you later ;)

This is going to be a long night.

Chapter 19

Anya

I wake up bright and early on Sunday morning to help my mother prepare all of the food for dinner. The sun is just starting to rise, casting a warm, golden glow through the kitchen windows. Last night, my mother and I stayed up super late making chocolates just for today. The kitchen still carries the sweet, lingering aroma of melted chocolate, and there are trays of beautifully crafted truffles and bonbons arranged on the counter.

As we chop vegetables and season the roast, the room fills with the comforting sounds of sizzling pans and the rhythmic chop of knives. I ask my mother why we are going all out, but she just smiles, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief, and says, "No reason." Her cryptic response only piques my curiosity further.

Tripp stumbles into the kitchen a while later, and gives our mother a peck on the cheek. “Smells good,” he mumbles, and it’s apparent he’s had a rough night.

“Tripp, be a dear and help your father get the sleeve for the table. We’ve got a full house tonight,” my mother says.

“I still don’t know why we’ve invited so many people,” Tripp says, heading out of the kitchen most likely in search of our father to help him set up the dining room.

“Our home is always open,” she hollers after him.

I smile as I continue to chop the carrots. “Does he seem a lot more angry lately?”

My mother opens the oven to check on the roast. “He’s dealing with something.” She shuts the oven. “I just wish he’d tell somebody what that thing is.”

I nod. “Griffin agreed to talk to him.”