Season 3 Episode 6 | My Best Friend’s Brother Dylan (Patreon)

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older. Everything portrayed is safe, sane, and consensual.

Episode 6: A Challenge for Mr. Castle

The event was all gloss and glow, Seine glittering below like scattered diamonds, influencers in sleek athleisure clinking glasses of bubbly adaptogen drinks that fizzed sweet and earthy on the tongue. Lucien introduced me smoothly, his hand never straying far, thumb grazing my side once when he leaned in to explain a brand. "Troy's the one behind LifeInParis, the series everyone's talking about." Compliments flowed, easy and genuine, but my eyes kept drifting to him, the way his polo stretched over his shoulders, white pants tailoring perfect to those thighs.

We paused at a tasting station, small vials of mushroom-infused elixirs glowing under soft lights. I picked one up, sniffed the herbal tang. "So, you're an investor in this company?"

Lucien nodded, taking a vial for himself. "One of many. Private equity keeps me busy."

I swirled mine, curious despite myself. Money had always felt like a mystery to me, something I sketched around but never touched. "How do you decide to put so much money in something? Like, what makes it worth the risk?"

He met my eyes, blue gaze steady, assessing but not cold. A small smile tugged his lips. "I invest in what inspires me. What has potential to grow, to change things quietly. The kind of beauty that lasts." He paused, vial halfway to his mouth, eyes lingering on mine a beat too long. "And right now, it's you."

Heat flooded my face, a blush creeping up my neck. His words landed soft but weighted, like he meant every syllable, not just the flirt. I took a sip to hide it, the elixir bubbling sweet on my tongue, earthy undertones cutting through. Our eyes held, the crowd fading for a second, just the hum of jazz and the distant lap of the Seine. My pulse kicked up, Dylan's morning toast and biceps flashing in my mind, but Lucien's presence pulled harder, that refined heat wrapping around me like the night air.

Before I could respond, a woman in a sharp blazer approached, voice bright. "Mr. Castle, a moment? Let me introduce you to the team from the London office."

Lucien glanced at me, regret flickering. "I'll be back. Don't wander too far."

I nodded, watching him go, the way his pants shifted over those quads with each step. Shaking it off, I made my way to the bar, the rooftop edge offering a killer view of the water. I pulled out my phone, filmed a quick LifeInParis story: Seine lights twinkling, crowd blurred in the background, caption "Unexpected nights." Posted it, felt the immediate buzz of notifications.

A waiter appeared with a fresh drink, something clear and fizzy with a twist of lemon. "From the gentleman over there."

I looked up. A handsome Frenchman across the bar, fit, muscled and with a nice moustache, sharp jaw under tousled hair, casual shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He nodded, eyes lingering with easy confidence, a small smile playing on his lips. I gestured thanks, took a sip—gin and tonic, crisp and sharp. He stood and approached, leaning against the bar beside me, cologne faint but clean, like ocean and lime.

"For a moment there, I thought you were here with somebody," he said, voice smooth with a light accent.

I laughed, setting the glass down. "Uh, no. I mean I came alone. Thanks for the drink."

He shrugged, charming. "Well, it's not like I bought it. It's an event perk. But now that it's in your hand..."

The flirt hung light, no pressure. I took another sip, feeling the fizz on my tongue. "Hi, I'm Troy."

We shook hands, his grip firm, eyes locking a second longer than casual, thumb brushing my knuckle before letting go. "Elliot."

I coughed, the drink catching in my throat…not a full spit, but enough to make me grab a napkin, wiping my lips and dabbing at his hand where a drop had splashed. "No, no—sorry. Didn't expect that name."

He raised an eyebrow, amused, handing me another napkin. "Why? Bad luck with Elliots?"

I laughed, awkward heat rising. "It was my ex's name. Caught me off guard."

"Ah." He smiled, easy, no push. "So, you're single? Good for me."

"As hot as you are, Mr. Elliot, unfortunately I'm taken." I paused, the word ‘taken’ feeling wrong on my tongue. "Uh, sort of? Idk. It's complicated."

He nodded, graceful, no offense taken. "Fair enough. Complicated's a story all its own. Thanks for letting me know, Troy. Enjoy your night."

He lifted his glass in a small toast and melted back into the crowd, leaving me with the echo of his smile and the gin still buzzing on my lips. Awkward, but oddly funny…the universe's way of twisting the knife on old wounds.

I was still chuckling when Lucien slid onto the bar stool beside me, his white pants tightening over those quads as he settled, thigh brushing my knee in a way that sent a spark up my spine. He ordered a drink, eyes on me, amused.

"So, what is this I hear you're taken?"

I startled, nearly knocking my glass. "Sort of?"

He leaned in, elbow on the bar, blue eyes twinkling. "It's not official?"

I shrugged, sipping to buy time. "I think I am? Seeing somebody. It's mostly just a friend..."

Lucien cut in gently, voice low. "So, it’s a fuck buddy."

I burst out laughing, the sound surprising even me. "Yeah, a fuck buddy. Thanks for pointing it out—I'm a hoe."

He chuckled, rich and warm, shaking his head. "No, no. I didn't mean it like that." He paused, smile turning wicked. "And for a matter of fact, I like turning a hoe into a kept man. Maybe I'll take this as a challenge."

I raised an eyebrow, pulse quickening at the edge in his voice. "To do what, exactly?"

"You'll see."

The banter hung between us, charged but easy, pulling me in like the elixirs on the bar. We fell into a rhythm after that, the night blurring into genuine laughs over dreams. I told him about LifeInParis, how it started as a distraction but grew into something real, aspirations of turning it into more. He listened, really listened, nodding as I talked about capturing quiet moments in a loud city. In return, he shared glimpses of building empires quietly, investing in brands that sparked joy, the thrill of spotting potential before anyone else. He refilled my drink without asking, arm draping casual around my shoulders as he guided me through the crowd, his touch warm and sure, gentlemanly but with that undercurrent of heat.

At one point he nodded to the tasting station. "Did you try this one yet?"

I shook my head, playful nervousness creeping in as I sipped my gin. "Not brave enough."

"Oh, come on. You'll love it." He gestured to the bartender, who poured two small glasses of Reishi induced drink, Lucien handed me one. "Let's go."

We clinked glasses, and I took a sip. The spice danced on my tongue, a subtle warmth spreading through my chest. "This is good. Tastes like spicy mexican chocolate"

He laughed, eyes crinkling. "It does. I don't invest in something that's not good."

The words landed double, his gaze holding mine a beat too long, hinting at me, at us. I smiled, the elixir buzzing light in my veins.

"This kind of feels like a date," I joked, the words slipping out easy.

Lucien leaned closer, voice dropping. "This is not the kind of first date I'd want with you."

I raised an eyebrow, amused, heart kicking up. "So how does Mr. Castle do his first dates?"

"Why don't you give me a chance to show you next weekend?"

I hesitated, Dylan's face flashing, his biceps flexing over toast, arm around me on the couch. "But... well, I'm not really single."

He tilted his head, smile unwavering. "You aren't really committed either."

The truth stung, but he said it without judgment, just fact. I took a breath, the Seine lights reflecting in his eyes. "Okay, only if you promise not to call it a date."

"Deal. Just hanging out... with potential." He winked, the gesture playful but loaded, sending a shiver down my spine.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me back. Dylan: Stay over tonight as well?

The words grounded me, a tether to the ache I knew so well. I glanced at Lucien, his smile still warm, then stood. "I'll get going. Thanks for tonight."

He rose too, pulling me into a hug. His arms wrapped over my back, biceps firm under the polo, heat radiating through fabric. His scent made my pulse jump, body responding. I hugged back, lingering a second too long, feeling the solid plane of his chest, the way his quads brushed mine.

"See you next weekend," he murmured against my ear.

I pulled away, nodded, and slipped into the crowd. The night air hit cool as I stepped out, texting Dylan, “On my way.”

Two worlds tugging at me now, Dylan's familiar fire in my veins warring with Lucien's cool spark on my skin. This was Elliot all over again, chasing the safe ache while craving the unknown. What the hell was I doing, saying yes to both?

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Season 3 Episode 7 | My Best Friend’s Brother DylanUpcoming EpisodesEpisode 7: What Are We?5th AprilEpisode 8:  A Night with Potential16th AprilEpisode 9: Whatever You Do With Him21st AprilEpisode 10: You Come Home to Me (Dylan's POV)24th April