Terms and Conditions(Dreamland Billionaires #2)(18)

“And we know you are attracted to her.”

That is new. “Who is this we you keep speaking of?”

“Rowan and I.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than gossip about me behind my back? Like, oh I don’t know, go find Alana and do whatever Grandpa asked you to do?” Cal avoiding his ex-girlfriend will only last so long, especially when Grandpa put a time limit on his inheritance clause. He needs to reach out to her by the end of the year if he plans on ever obtaining his part of the company shares. After all the grief he has given me about my part, the least I can do is remind him of his lack of initiative.

His jaw ticks. “It’s not going to work.”

“What?”

“You trying to get a rise out of me because you’re feeling defensive about Iris.”

“Why would I feel the need to be defensive?”

“You tell me since you were the one who said you didn’t care who you married, so long as they were… How did you phrase it again?” He taps his chin. “Oh right. ‘Practical, fertile, and has a face considered proportionate enough to be deemed attractive.’”

My fingers gripping the glass tighten. “I know what I said.”

“Didn’t seem to age well, did it?”

My jaw clenches. “What’s your point in bringing all this up?”

“I mention it as a warning.”

I don’t speak, instead choosing to take a long sip of my drink.

“You might be my brother, but Iris is my best friend. And while I want you to succeed and become CEO, I won’t let you destroy her in your pursuit of whatever you think might make you happy.”

I offer him a bored glance. “If Iris is concerned, she can speak to me herself. She doesn’t need to send her guard dog after me.”

“She’s not concerned, but I am.”

“If this is what friendship entails, I see why I’m better off without it.”

His lips press into a thin line. “Don’t break her heart.”

A soft chuckle spills out of me. “That should be the least of your worries.”

“Of course I worry. You’re a cold-hearted bastard who doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of someone else.”

“I helped raise you and you turned out decent enough.”

His jaw locks. “We’re your blood. You’re forced to like us, whether you want to or not.”

“Blood doesn’t mean shit to me. You of all people should know that.”

Taking care of my brothers had nothing to do with our shared DNA. I promised my mom before she died that I would be there for them, and I upheld my end of our deal regardless of the personal consequences.

He looks away with a sigh. “Just take care of her.”

My heart pounds harder against my chest as I reassess this entire conversation. A chill makes its way down my spine. “Are you in love with her?” The question comes out far more agitated than I’d like.

His eyes brighten as he laughs. “No.”

“For some reason, I’m finding that hard to believe.” Based on the way he speaks of her, I would be stupid to think they were solely platonic.

“We kissed once.”

Blood rushes to my ears, and I can feel the tips turning red. “You what?” The lethality in my voice draws Cal’s eyes back to mine.

“It was a mistake.”

“It sure as fuck better be.” The glass tumbler beneath my hand shakes from how hard I grip the cylinder.

His lips curve at the corners. “I knew you were jealous.”

“As if I could ever be jealous of someone like you.”

He winks. “The way you look like you want to murder me says otherwise.”

“Torture is my preferred method of revenge, just so you’re aware.”

He breaks out into a full-blown smile. “If it makes you feel better, the kiss was terrible.”

How the fuck is that supposed to make me feel better? I can’t get the image of them kissing out of my goddamn brain, no matter how much I try to wipe my mind of the last five minutes of this conversation.

Why does it bother you in the first place?

Because she told me they are just friends.

Right. You keep telling yourself that.

“You’re really selling me on the idea of marrying her,” I reply with a dry voice despite the anger burning within me.

His chest shakes from quiet laughter. “It had nothing to do with her. I was drunk, and she was lonely. The result was awkward to say the least.”

“She was lonely?”

“Of course she is. Her being friends with me should have been your first clue.”

“I wasn’t aware she felt that way.”

“What? Do you expect her to talk to you about it? Unlike the rest of the human population, you like being by yourself.”

I bite down on my tongue to prevent myself from saying too much. Growing accustomed to something doesn’t mean I like it. I just learned to prefer it over the alternative option, which includes letting people get too close. What’s the point when they always leave anyway?

I take a sip of my drink to wash away the bitter taste of weakness from my mouth. “Kiss her again and I’ll enjoy ripping your tongue from your throat.”