The really grating part was that I knew even if he wasn’t half as good-looking as he was, women would still be falling all over themselves. It was the way he carried himself, the confidence that was real, not fake arrogance. You wanted to be his friend. And you wanted to make him smile. And you wanted those damn eyes trained on you.

My eye started to twitch again.

“Do you have eye drops for that condition?”

I smacked the side of my head.

“Or that.” Reid coughed. “You could just do that.” He led me down a long hallway, where we stopped in front of two black double doors.

I reached for the handle, my eye really going on a crazy streak.

“You should probably get that under control before we go in.” Reid pointed to my eye.

“I can’t control it!”

Reid winced, his handsome face making even that look dead sexy, what with his five o’clock shadow and aqua eyes like laser beams. Maybe that was the problem—my eyes felt so insecure they started to twitch in his hot presence.

“He’ll think you’re winking.”

I rubbed my face, not caring that makeup was probably going to come off on my fingers. “Why does it matter?”

“Trust me, it matters. You don’t want those pretty things misfiring in his presence.”

I ignored the way my heart did a little leap at the way he said pretty and things. I was the pretty thing. Or my twitchy eyes were. “You make him sound—”

“Not normal. It’s Max.”

“You keep saying that.” I rubbed under my eyes just in case there was any leftover black eyeliner. “That means nothing to me!”

“Oh.” Reid tilted my chin up like he was inspecting me. “It will soon, trust me.” He frowned, then licked his thumb and rubbed it beneath my right eye. “There.” He pressed his lips together, then patted down my hair, tucking it behind my ear.

I huffed, blowing air out of my cheeks. “Did you really just mom-lick me? Then pat down my hair?”

Reid patted my shoulder. “Hey, we’re in this together. I just want you looking . . . presentable before I throw you into the fire. Then again, if you look like you just got run over, he might ignore what I’m about to do to him.”

“Do?”

“Just follow my lead. Don’t show weakness.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine, let’s get this over with.”

Reid opened the door and cracked his neck. What? Were we going to brawl or something? “After you.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

REID

As expected, Max was sitting behind his excessively large mahogany desk, most likely plotting world domination. His red leather chair was turned away from his pristine desk, his feet up on the windowsill. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he actually wrote in his schedule: Gaze over the city, mock the little people, work on evil genius laugh.

“I’ve been expecting you,” he said before I even opened my mouth.

Jordan’s eyes widened as she looked from me back to Max’s chair. Slowly, he turned, his arms behind his head like he was a normal, relaxed individual rather than—well, rather than what he was.

Words always failed to describe my brother.

He was an enigma.

The only of his kind.

And hopefully the last.

His deep-set dimples slowly appeared as he smiled at Jordan then back at me. Standing, he made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “I imagine you want answers.”

“Max.” I gritted my teeth. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I saved his life once,” Max acknowledged. “Actually, more like three times, but who’s keeping track, right?”

“You are.” I let out a heavy sigh. “You have tally marks on a chalkboard back at the apartment.”

He waved me off. “So you must be the lovely shrew.”

Jordan’s grip on my arm tightened enough to cause severe blood loss to all my lower extremities, which was probably a good thing, considering she was ridiculously sexy when angry. Her hair seemed to continuously grow the more time I spent with her, like the stress fed the frizz. And her lips? Well, she bit them. Hard. All. The. Time. Which made them swollen and red and completely distracting.

“Why?” she croaked. “I’m supposed to be launching your brother’s career! Not ruining it!”

Max nodded, his expression one of concern as he pressed his hands in a prayerlike motion in front of his lips. “I see, and when did you know you had this problem?”

“What?” Jordan blinked. At least her left eye had stopped twitching. She turned to me for help. “What are we talking about?”

“Exactly.” Max nodded. “Well, it’s worse than I thought. You both needed me, and I knew you were too proud to say something.”

“What’s happening here?” Jordan hissed under her breath.

Max went over to his desk and hit a button. The room fell dark and, much to my horror, a slide show of Milo and Jason’s grandma started playing on the wall. There she was, toothless, smiling, beckoning.

I shivered, then hid behind Jordan like a real man.

“See?” Max clapped his hands. “You need me! You can’t get back on the horse and I’m going to force it! It’s not like I told you that your publicist had to be the one you rode.”

Jordan raised her hand. “Just to be clear, there will be no riding. Of any kind.”

Max pouted, hitting the button so the creepy pictures of Milo and Jason’s grandmother disappeared. “But that’s the best part.”