Page 19 of Cocky Bastard

“Mr. Carter,” I said, trying to hide my amusement and replace it with cool indifference. Despite our growing friendliness, I didn’t want everyone to think we werethatclose. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

I hadn’t realised he’d been invited to the birthday party we were currently attending, but then again this was Austin and he seemed to be invited everywhere. The birthday girl was one of the UK’s hottest pop superstars, but in the back of my mind I had the vague feeling she might have done a stint on a kids’ TV show about ten years ago. If she had, she’d probably known Austin through that, whether he’d been on the show or not, since he’d always had a habit of making friends with everyone.

It was a talent I’d never managed to possess.

“Oh, you know me,” he said lightly as he tilted his head closer, like he needed to be heard over the music even though it wasn’t that loud. “I pop up everywhere.”

I snorted. “You’re like a bad smell.”

“Ouch.” He clutched his chest and I tried to ignore the way his T-shirt looked almost painted on. “You wound me.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“You could kiss it better?”

“Not in public,” I said pointedly, lifting my glass and taking a sip of the obnoxiously sweet signature cocktail the bar was doing for the occasion. Like so many of the A-list parties, tonight’s affair was being held in an exclusive London club which usually had a cover fee that would make most normal people cry. There were live circus and burlesque acts, a packed dance floor, endless amounts of cocktails and champagne, enough flowers to fill the entirety of Kew Gardens, and a six-tier cake that could only be described as stunning.

The only thing that kept the cake from being flawless was that it hadn’t been made by Luke, and I was the sort of loyal friend who thought everything else was a bit rubbish by comparison.

“We could go somewhere private,” Austin said, lowering his voice and sending another shiver down my spine. That voice was dangerous and the prick knew it. I’d dropped to my knees more times than I could count for it. “I’m sure the toilets here are big enough. Or I’ve got a hotel room.”

“A toilet? How classy.”

“You’ve never said no before.”

“Maybe I’m feeling a bit more grown-up than a quick fuck in a club toilet,” I said with a cheeky smirk. Pushing back was the only defence I had against Austin’s wily charm.

Not that it would take him long to disable it.

That fucker knew how to walk straight through my walls like they weren’t even there.

Austin gasped playfully as he flagged down the bartender and ordered two whisky sours. “I didn’t know you could outgrow a club quickie.”

“Well, I have.”

“Good to know. I’ll make sure I always have a room available to take you apart in.”

I bit back a groan and tried to force it into an irritated huff. The truth was I’d have bent over this fucking bar if Austin asked me to, but I didn’t want to give in that easily. I wanted to make him work for it.

Austin could bring any man to his knees with a smile, and it had always irritated me. I didn’t knowwhy, but it did.

I didn’t care about him fucking other people—it was his job and he obviously loved it—and I didn’t care about him using his charm on other people.

But there was a gnawing feeling in my chest which was connected to Austin, one that was getting harder and harder to ignore. The best thing to do would be to address it rather than leaving it to grow, fester, and burst out of my chestAlien-style. But that would mean acknowledging it in the first place.

Although I supposed if I wanted to get technical, I’d already done that.

“How was your audition?” Austin asked, smoothly changing the subject as he pressed a short, round glass into my hand. “Did you hear anything back yet?”

My face burned and my heart skipped. I’d messaged Austin all the details about my audition as soon as I’d gotten home, but here he was buying me drinks and encouraging me to wax lyrical all over again.

“No, not yet.” I shook my head and sipped the new cocktail, savouring the smoky warmth of the whisky on my tongue.“But hopefully soon. I don’t think I’ll cope if they spend weeks agonising over it. I just want to know if they want me to come back.”

“I’m sure they will. You’re perfect, kitten, and I know you absolutely smashed it.”

“Maybe. I hope so.”

“I know so,” he said. “Don’t you trust me?”

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