Page 13 of Sizzling Desire

Chapter 4

Kane

The conference room at Hooplas is quieter than the bustling main floor, but it still carries the same energy. The low hum of voices, the occasional burst of laughter from the bar, and the muted clatter of glassware filter through the walls. It’s the kind of background noise that’s almost soothing, except my nerves are fraying at the edges tonight, and I’m not sure why.

The guys are already here when I walk in. Hudson’s leaning back in one of the chairs, his boots propped up on the edge of the table like he owns the place—which, to be fair, he kind of does–we all do. Reid’s at the head of the table with his ever-present tablet, scrolling through reports, while Declan’s flipping through some notes like he’s prepping for a boardroom meeting instead of a casual check-in about our bar. Jax, predictably, is glaring at his phone like it owes him money.

“Look who finally showed up,” Hudson drawls, tipping his chair back farther, balancing it on two legs. “Were you out rescuing kittens from trees, or is it just fashionable to be late these days?”

“Fashionable,” I shoot back, dropping into the seat next tohim. “Figured I’d give you time to impress everyone with your wit before I got here.”

“Glad someone appreciates me,” he says with a smirk, tipping his beer in my direction.

“Don’t encourage him,” Reid says without looking up from his tablet. “His ego’s big enough already after getting engaged a few weeks ago.”

“Speaking of egos,” Declan cuts in, glancing up with a smirk of his own. “Jax, how’s your latest war with technology going?”

“Shut it,” Jax mutters, jabbing at his phone like he’s hoping brute force will solve his problems.

The room fills with laughter, and for a moment, it feels like the old days—before Hooplas and fiancés, before everything got so complicated.

The waitress pops in, setting a tray of beers on the table. “Beers for everyone but Reid. Burgers and fries are on the way,” she says with a smile before slipping back out.

Reid clears his throat, ever the responsible one. “Can we focus for five minutes? Numbers first, then you can all go back to your comedy routine.”

Hudson groans but straightens in his chair, pulling his feet off the table. “Fine, hit us with it, Doc.”

Reid launches into a breakdown of the latest revenue reports, and for a while, the banter fades as we dig into the details. The bar’s doing well—better than any of us expected when we first opened Hooplas. Karaoke nights are a hit, trivia nights are bringing in a younger crowd, and the numbers don’t lie, we’re killing it.

But even as I nod along, half-listening to Declan and Reid debate marketing strategies, my focus drifts. My eyes land on the smooth surface of the conference table, and my chest tightens.

The last time I was in this room, Grace was pressed againstthat very spot, her body arching into mine like she couldn’t get close enough.

The memory slams into me with the force of a freight train. Her flushed cheeks, the way her nails dug into my shoulders, the sound of my name on her lips, it’s all still there, vivid, and sharp, like it happened yesterday. My pulse kicks up, and I shift in my seat, forcing my gaze back to Reid as he drones on about revenue streams.

But I can’t unsee it. I can’t unfeel it. That night wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a moment of weakness, a lapse in judgment—but hell if it didn’t brand itself into my memory.

“Earth to Kane,” Hudson says, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

I blink, realizing too late that everyone’s looking at me. “What?”

“You good, man?” Jax asks, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring at the table for ten minutes.”

“Yeah,” I say quickly, forcing a smirk. “Just thinking about all the bad decisions you’ve made at this table, Jax.”

The guys laugh, the tension easing, but Hudson’s still watching me with that knowing look he gets when he’s about to push.

The conversation shifts to next month’s kickball game, and the room fills with more laughter as we tease each other about who’s going to trip over their own feet first. Reid mentions Sawyer’s competitive streak, Declan bets on Trevor showing up late, and Hudson predicts Parker will bring a laminated playbook.

It’s easy, this back-and-forth, but the memory of Grace lingers like a shadow. No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake it.

The food arrives, and the banter continues. We’re halfway through our burgers when Reid’s phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, his expression shifting.

“Hospital emergency,” he says, standing. “I’ve got to go.” Iwatch him down the rest of his soda as he makes his way out of the room.

Declan and Jax take that as their cue to head out, too, leaving just Hudson and me in the room.

Hudson leans back in his chair, nursing the last of his beer. “You’ve been off tonight,” he says, his tone casual but pointed.

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