Nate

My dick was leading the way.

The first girl spoke up, her hand touching my arm, “Get in line, sweetie.”

I brushed the cheerleader’s hand off at the same time the new girl tilted her head, total and complete sass coming from her. “I don’t think so, honey. I got business to talk to him about, and it ain’t none of your business.”

The “honey” woman turned to me, and she didn’t look happy to be vying for my attention. “I need to have a word with you about my sister.”

“Your sister?”

She turned and motioned with her head. “Come on. This isn’t going to be fun for either of us.”

My dick was saying otherwise, but I kept that to myself.

“Oh, come on.” One of my tablemates pouted.

The other touched my arm. “Come back. She doesn’t look all that friendly.”

That was why I liked her.

I shrugged them off, picking up my bourbon, and followed as she went to a far booth in the corner. Correction, she went to the far, far booth, and she slid in, all stiff and looking like she wanted to be anywhere but here.

I looked back.

A bartender was watching, so I motioned for two more drinks. He nodded, and I slid into the other side of the booth.

I waited for her to settle.

She never settled.

QUINCEY

Of course, he was the first person I saw when I walked inside.

Of course, he had three beautiful women hanging all over him.

And of course, he was hot. So freaking hot.

Tall, over six feet. Broad shoulders. Trim waist. He had a swimmer’s body. Dark hair. His eyes—I could barely look at them because they were captivating. They made me want to stare and stay in them forever. And his face. A square jawline. A round face, but one that gave off rugged and manly vibes, not preppy-pretty boy vibes. Oh no. Nate Monson was all man.

The air around him was edgy and snappy, but also molten and electrified sex.

I’d never felt this with another man before. I never even knew a man could emanate sex like he was. It was always something I thought was silly and never existed. Hell. It existed. It was existing and in waves from Monson.

This wasn’t fair.

Then again, Valerie had been no slouch. She only had one fuck-buddy relationship, and when she talked about him, I could tell she actually liked him. She respected him. Why she never pushed for more, I hadn’t a clue. But she didn’t, and that was on her.

I never understood my sister, except in one thing. Now two things.

My stomach was a mess. I felt like throwing up.

Miss Carina would’ve been all over me if she saw how flustered I was. My hair was a mess. I’d only used three pins to secure my flyaways. It would’ve been disgraceful on the floor.

Get yourself together, Quince.

I closed my eyes. Nate—gah, his name was Nate. The file said Nathaniel Monson, and I read all the details. His famous friends and family. That he did investments for a living, and judging by the portfolio that Carl included, he was doing quite well on top of already being rich. Valerie loved him. I knew she did, but she ended up with Nico instead.

I wanted to growl. Nico. I hated Nico more than I hated having to have this conversation.

Okay. My nerves were better now. My hate for Nico wiped everything out after that. Nate and Nico. My sister had a thing for N names. Who would’ve been next? A Neil? Noah? Nolan?

Why was I going through N names for males right now?

He’d stopped talking.

I looked up. He was watching me. My God. There was sexual desire there. He didn’t blink it away. He only made it more pronounced, not shy, not hiding it. Confident. He wanted me. He had a little smirk that would’ve been a turn-off on anyone else, but it worked on him. It only made him hotter, and then he was seeing me seeing him, and he was seeing me right back.

He wasn’t done.

He looked me over, lingering on the bit of leg I had resting out from just under the table before raising his gaze and pausing on my mouth.

He wanted to fuck me.

Heat bloomed in my chest, and an ache was forming south of that. I was being reminded by his stare how long it’d been since I’d gotten laid. That was all this was. When I opened my mouth, all that would be gone, and he’d hate me.

I was adult enough to admit that I’d like to fuck him, but the vast majority hated him first and foremost. Though I shouldn’t hate him. My rational side reminded me of this, but the irrational side loathed him because he could take away my life. And I was the one here, about to start these preparations because I had to.