Dirty Sexy Inked (Dirty Sexy 2)

“You sitting at a bar all by yourself and looking quite pathetic,” Levi said, sounding far too amused at the situation.

“Well, you could always fuck off,” Mason suggested, then finished his beer.

“I could,” Levi said, his tone more amused than offended. “But seeing you like this is much more fun.”

Mason glared at his brother. He’d come to Kincaid’s because he’d stupidly thought he could wallow in his misery alone. Mason had known for certain that Clay wouldn’t be here. Now that Clay was domesticated by marriage, he spent more time at the new home he’d purchased for himself and Samantha, instead of at the bar. Levi didn’t drink alcohol and usually didn’t show up at the bar unless there was a specific reason, and Mason resented Levi butting into what should have been a private pity party. No smartasses invited or allowed. Obviously, Levi had missed that particular memo.

“What are you doing here?” Mason asked testily.

His belligerent attitude didn’t so much as faze Levi, who, as a beat cop, was used to dealing with far more intimidating criminals. “Well, I was watching House of Cards on Netflix at home, and I got a concerned text from Tara telling me that something was seriously wrong with you and I needed to get over here ASAP.”

“Sorry to tear you away from an exciting night in front of the TV,” Mason said sarcastically. “But there’s nothing wrong and you made a trip down here for nothing.”

Levi leaned an arm on the counter. “Well, considering you aren’t taking advantage of all the single women here tonight, and you aren’t off screwing one of them already, I’d have to agree with Tara. Are you sick? Do you have a fever? Or has your dick finally become discriminate? You know, that big word we talked about on the plane ride to Vegas that means you’ve actually gotten particular about where that dick goes, and with whom?”

Levi didn’t have to say the name Katrina, because his brother wasn’t stupid, or a fool. Jesus, he hated when Levi did that—how his brother silently sat back and didn’t miss a goddamn thing going on around him. Even as a kid, Levi had been quiet and introverted, but incredibly attuned to everything. As an adult, it was fucking unnerving to have all that intensity focused on him.

Resisting the urge to flip Levi the middle finger, Mason gave him a tight smile instead. “My dick is fine; thank you very much for your concern.”

He hoped that Levi would take the hint and go back home. Instead, he caught Tara’s attention and motioned her over to the end of the bar.

“I told you it was bad,” Tara said once she arrived, her concerned gaze bouncing from Mason to Levi.

“Jesus Christ,” Mason snapped indignantly. “I’m fucking fine.”

“He’s so not fine,” Levi said with a sympathetic shake of his head. “He’ll take another Sam’s, and I’ll take the usual.”

“You got it,” Tara said, and moved away to get their drinks.

She returned a few minutes later, setting a fresh bottle of beer in front of Mason and a tall glass that contained a nonalcoholic orange spritzer on Levi’s napkin.

Mason glanced at his brother’s pansy-ass drink. “I wish that someone would spike your fucking orange juice. I’d love to see you get drunk. Just once.”

Levi smirked and took a long drink of his mixture of orange juice and soda water. “Not gonna happen,” he said as he set his glass back down on the counter. “I have no desire to ever drink alcohol and do stupid shit.”

Getting drunk and doing stupid shit was pretty much the sum of Mason’s teenage years and some of his adult ones, too. “Why not?” he asked curiously.

Levi shrugged. “It’s a control thing,” he said vaguely.

Mason was pretty sure Levi’s reasons all tied into their childhood, and how each one of them dealt with their horrible situation in very different ways. Levi did like to be in control. He was calm, focused, and composed. Always had been. Growing up, Mason used to hate how nothing seemed to affect Levi, but he’d learned over the years that his brother’s quiet personality was Levi’s way of coping with all the emotional upheaval in their lives.

While Levi internalized their painful situation, Mason had gone to the opposite extreme and let his rage drive him toward every act of rebellion that came his way. It wasn’t until Mason was older that he’d learned to control those angry outbursts.

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Levi asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Mason frowned at his brother. “It?”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Katrina,” he said more specifically.

Mason’s first instinct was to play stupid and say, “What about Katrina?” but he was so damn tired of denying his feelings for his best friend. Everything about their current situation was eating him alive inside, and one of the very few people he trusted was his brother. Levi wasn’t one to judge, and right now, that’s exactly what Mason needed—someone to listen and hopefully offer some helpful advice.

“Katrina and I slept together in Vegas,” Mason said before he lost the nerve.

“Yeah, I figured,” Levi said as he ran his thumb and forefinger along the condensation gathering on his glass.

“How did you ‘figure’?” Mason asked, curious to know what had given him and Katrina away.

Levi laughed. “Are you serious? The moment you carried Katrina out of Coyote Ugly like a goddamn caveman, both Clay and I knew that things were going to come to a head between you two. Both of you have been skirting around your attraction for years, but lately, the sexual tension has been pretty intense. Between Katrina dancing up on the bar and you getting all territorial about other men touching her, it was bound to get heated. And considering how awkward and weird things were with the