Page 2 of Reinventing Cato
Find someone to flirt with. Find someone to fuck.There was plenty of choice, as long as he wasn’t too picky. The problem was, apart frompickybeing his middle name, somewhere on the journey up here, or maybe before—okay, definitely before—he seemed to have developed a conscience.I mean, what the fucking fuckity-fuck?He wasn’t sure if that was down to his last hook-up turning nasty or some major brain fart after spending Christmas with his family and meeting his brother’s boyfriend, Jonty. He suspected the latter.
Jonty.Who’d taught Cato’s family lessons in loyalty and humility. Who’d captured the heart of Cato’s cynical older brother, Devan. Who’d handled an over-achieving, perfectionist family in exactly the right way. Cato wanted his own Jonty, and sleeping around didn’t seem the right path to get him that.
Damn the family Christmas for throwing him such a bloody curveball. Yep, Cato was jealous of his brother over a breath of fresh air called Jonty Bloom. He wanted what Devan had. Not Jonty himself. Cato didn’t have a death wish. He’d seen how possessive Devan was and he didn’t blame him. But Cato wanted the happiness he’d seen on his brother’s face. The contentment. Cato wanted someone to care about him like Devan cared for Jonty. Not just care.Love.
Usually, even thinking that word made him choke. But wanting things to be different was one thing, doing something about it was entirely different. Cato had to switch off the way he’d reverted to behaving. Deny his reputation until it was no longer his reputation. Stop behaving like a dick. Take life more seriously.
He could do that. He could reinvent himself. His current position was certainly a new one. He’d usually be up there dancing and flirting, making a spectacle of himself. Instead, he sprawled on an uncomfortable chair at the edge of the room, no doubt giving hisdon’t-mess-with-mevibe to anyone who thought about approaching him, and he was cradling a glass of warm champagne he had no intention of drinking.
If he’d known Louise and Max were going to be here, there was no way he’d have come. If he’d driven up to Glasgow, he’d have got in his car and gone home the moment he’d found out they were here. But he’d flown up. He was stuck until tomorrow in the same hotel as the biggest fucking mistakes of his life. Then again, maybe being stuck wasn’t such a bad thing. Nothing saidYou hurt memore than running away when confronted by a pair who’d inflicted such lasting damage. He was going to show them both he was fine.
In a minute.
Or two.
After the big bust up nine months ago, Cato had reverted to his usual MO of one-night stands. Not getting involved was better for his health. Quick hook-ups were fine as long as everyone accepted that was all they were getting. He made it clear before any clothes came off that there would not be a repeat performance, but over the last couple of months, it seemed as if people had stopped listening.
A couple of hours of hot sex, and sometimes not-so-hot sex, weren’t worth the painful conversations he’d recently had to endure.Are you busy on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday…? What’s your number?What shampoo do you use because you smell so gooooood?No matter how politely he tried to turn someone down, the name calling followed. He was a bastard, a wanker, a selfish arsehole… Cato wasn’t inherently uncaring, no matter what some thought.
Maybe he needed to be more careful who he hooked up with.
Nomaybeabout it.
Drew, his last pick-up, had been a big mistake. One he hoped didn’t come back to bite him. Their parting had not been sweet. A mild-mannered guy had turned into a threatening monster, accusing Cato of leading him on, taking advantage. Drew had thrown a cup of coffee at him in the hotel room, and it had clipped Cato’s head before breaking on the wall. He was lucky the coffee hadn’t been hot.
Even so, no-strings sex had sort of worked until recently, but now…Hadit ever worked? Or had he just convinced himself it had? Cato didn’t like his head being in such a mess, recycling his problems over and over. At the heart of it all, he was unhappy. Nine months ago, Max had made his choice—not me, and since then, not much had made Cato’s world turn. So maybe he wasn’t experiencing a surfeit of scruples, more an awareness that changing his ways might deliver a brighter future.
Though, Cato had to face the fact that an actual boyfriend might never happen for him. His one foray into a proper relationship, one that he’d thought wasit, that Max wasthe one, had eventually ended in disaster. They’d fallen hard for each other, managed to negotiate the hurdles Cato assumed were normal in any relationship, then hit a landmine. He and Max would never be together again.But I still want him to want me, to be sorry he let me go.Cato didn’t care how petty that sounded. It was only himself he was saying it to.
So, no more quickies with strangers.
The thought almost scared him.I like sex!It emptied his head, made him feel good.The cure for his current state of mind had to be to just find someone, ensure a zipless fuck was all they wanted, and then he’d be back on track. A track he didn’t want to be on.Shit!Anyway, there was no one here that he fancied.
How was that even possible? The ballroom was full of heaving bodies of all shapes and sizes. He wasalwaysup for it with someone, but not, it appeared, tonight. Pickiness had won out. He let his gaze wander over those dancing in front of him. Darth Vader encouraging his wife, Marie Antoinette, to the dark side—but politely. On Cato’s left, Elton John, in a white sparkly outfit, was rocking down the clock like a frenzied gorilla with a petite, fake-boobed Dolly Parton. On his right, the Statue of Liberty had her arms draped around a vertically-challenged vampire. Everyone appeared to be having a great time.
Except Cato knew appearances were deceptive. He’d sat there long enough to get a handle on many of the room’s occupants, quite a few of whom he knew. Some were trying too hard, fretting about being at a party on New Year’s Eve with no one to kiss or hug at midnight.That would include me.Apart from the trying too hard and fretting.
Okay, hewasfretting, but not about that. Not exactly. He didn’t want to get to midnight with no one in his arms. Or rather, he didn’t want to beseenwith no one in his arms. Being seen looking happy by Louise and Max was important, had been part of his plan since Robert had dropped the bombshell that the pair would be at the party. And since he’d changed his mind about a random fuck, appearing as if he hadn’t a care in the world was nowallof Cato’s plan. Happy might be beyond him, but he could appear unconcerned. And wouldn’t Max see through him just picking up some random man or woman? Even if he could manage it?
I must be ill.He perked up at the thought because that would explain so much. His apathy, ennui, dissociation—the fucking weird invasion of a conscience. He didn’t want to move. That was unlike him. After the struggle he’d made to get up to this party in the frozen north, he should have been making more of an effort. He loved to dance, but he couldn’t be arsed. Nor could he be arsed to talk to anyone. He wouldn’t have come if he’d imagined he’d be sitting on his own watching everyone else have a good time. Most of them anyway. But here he was. On his own. Not having a good time. And not interested in the Roman gladiator who kept eyeing him up.
Louise—masquerading as Wonder Woman when she bloody well wasn’t, though the mere act of thinking her name appeared to have brought her to his side, so maybe she was—dropped onto the chair next to him.God, I should have moved the chairs, made it clear I don’t want company.
Max, Captain America—and he did have the body because Cato had been wrapped around it plenty of times—pulled over a chair and sat in front of him.Uh oh.Cato kept his face immobile while his treacherous heart raced.Please be doing that through annoyance and not even the tiniest sliver of lust.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” Louise took the glass from Cato’s hand, sipped and grimaced. She put it on the table behind her. “Maxie, go and find us some cold fizz, darling.”
Cato watched Max go.Maxie. God.Cato would have been given a bollocking for calling him that. His gaze slid after Max’s arse, neatly packaged in the skin-tight outfit. An arse he missed and yet didn’t miss because of the wanker it belonged to.It’s done.I don’t want it resurrected.He was relieved he felt the same as he had since it had all gone wrong.So why is my heart pounding?
I’m over him. I am.
Thou dost protest too much.
Cato braced himself.
“I can’t believe you’re not with anyone,” Louise said.
You bitch.“You’ve just sat on the Invisible Woman.”
