Brian grimaced and shook his head in disapproval through Betsy's response. She shouldn't be giving a man space. Warren (however much Brian would've disliked it) should've been beating down Betsy's door. In BrianLand, if you were interested in a lady, it didn't matter how many issues were on your plate - you saw to her, you spent time with her. As these thoughts went on, he realized how hypocritical his creed was. He might have to work on it, then.
"Well, you should either tell him outright how you feel, or tell him he can kiss your ass," Brian decided, finally. Life was too short to waste on shyness and worry. "But personally, I think if he hasn't gone for it yet, then he doesn't deserve you." Where his fingers were resting on her knee, he squeezed, and then brought his arm back to rest against his side.
It pained him to see Betsy feeling this way. And it was worse still knowing that he'd dragged the feelings to the surface himself. "If it's any consolation, I love you." His tongue darted out and shot back in, and the blond grinned up at his twin. The Brit shifted his weight and moved to the head of the (rather flouncy-looking) bed to lay on his back. His left arm was spread across the pillows and he motioned with his right for Betsy to move back into his armpit. "Rest that weary head up here."