Page 7 of Cocky Bastard

Luke sighed. It was the sigh of an endlessly patient man who’d reached the end of his rope. “Do you want it to?”

“I… er…”

“Figure out the answer to that first. Then you’ll know where to go.”

“Yeah, I guess I should.”

I wouldn’t, though. Because figuring out if I wanted things to change meant I’d have to actually examine my feelings for Austin, and there was no way in hell I wanted to go anywhere near that mess.

I’d just stick to sex.

It’d worked for us so far.

CHAPTER THREE

Austin

Another weekend.Another party. Another night of me casually surveying the room to see if Kane had decided to make an appearance.

I kept telling myself he wasn’t the only reason I’d decided to score a last-minute invitation through a friend, but that was such a blatant lie I couldn’t even bring myself to try for more than a few minutes. The truth was I did want to see Kane again. I just didn’t knowwhy.

For the past ten years, things had always been filthy and casual and fucking perfect, so why the fuck was I suddenly stalking his Instagram like one of his obsessed fans? It wasn’t like I needed his dick—I got plenty of action at work—and it wasn’t like his company was particularly inspiring considering half our conversations were dirty talk and the rest was straight up teasing and flirting. And it wasn’t like we talked outside these events either.

I didn’t think I’d ever messaged him and I was pretty sure I’d never had anything from him. Come to think of it, I didn’teven know if I had a way to reach him outside of his official social media and that would be heavily managed by his publicist. I couldn’t exactly slide into his DMs and hit him up for a fuck when I knew someone else was reading it—it would totally blow the shroud of mystery and subterfuge we’d carefully managed to keep over our situationship.

There was not a single logical reason for me to be here looking for him.

But here I fucking was anyway.

Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with me?

“Many things,” said a sly, warm voice from beside me and I glanced over in shock to see Kane lounging on the sofa next to me, drink in hand. The sofa was one of several tucked up against the wall, giving the guests a place to lounge, drink, and chat in comfort. I’d picked it because it gave me a fairly good view of the room without being as noticeable as the bar.

“What?” I asked, still getting over my surprise at him turning up next to me. How the hell had I not noticed him? The man wasn’t that subtle. Or sneaky. Or graceful. He’d once tripped over the fucking hallway carpet outside my hotel room and nearly smashed a vase.

So much for all that boy band dance training.

“You asked what the fuck was wrong with you,” Kane said, sipping his drink. “And I replied.”

I stared at him, momentarily thrown. Had I really said that part out loud? Fuck, I was feeling off tonight.

“Well,” I said with a smirk, trying to recover my footing. “Nobody’s perfect. But I’m as close as you can get.”

Kane snorted. “Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Hey, I’m just telling the truth.”

“Most people who say that are assholes,” Kane said flatly. “And you’re not the exception to the rule.”

I put my hand on my chest and slid a little closer to him. “Ouch, you hurt my feelings.”

“Oh no, what a shame.”

“It is a shame.” I fluttered my lashes at him and smiled, wishing I could put my hand on his thigh but knowing this was too public a place to risk it. Instead, I lowered my voice and said, “You should kiss me so I feel better.”

“Not going to happen,” Kane said.

“Not at all? Or not here?”

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