King Hunt (Boys of Brisley 1)

She licked her lips and giggled, then shook her head. “No, no. I’m here for you this weekend, not a hookup. It’s just fun to flirt.”

“I wouldn’t mind. Don’t hold back for me.” I smiled encouragingly and turned to Kapri. “What about you? Anything new in your world?”

She shook her head, sliding a glass of something amber down the bar to an outstretched hand. “Nope. Though, I have to say that hearing your story explains why I haven’t seen the Bishop boys here on their regular night.”

“Not even Ollie?” I asked curiously.

“Takes two to play weird, weeknight chess. He’s come in once or twice, but I think he stays away when he knows I’ll be working. Guess I shot my shot too many times, and now I need a drink,” she said with a bitter laugh. “Oh, well.”

“Well, how does he act when you do? Like he’s uncomfortable or does he play along and then never follow through?” I asked curiously. I couldn’t understand why Ollie would avoid someone so beautiful.

“He used to flirt with me, but now he mostly avoids me like the plague. I told myself I’d ask him why the next time he came in, but he never came back.” She shrugged, refilling my drink. “It’s not like I’m in love with the guy, so I don’t take it personal.”

Kylie just stared at Kapri with her jaw slack. “Wait, I understood all this correctly, right? You hit on a guy and he said no? What the fuck? You look like ... Scarlett Johansson if Scarlett Johansson was black and had better hair. How did you hit on someone and they said no?”

“That’s an excellent question.”

My phone buzzed then before I could chime in, and I nearly dropped it trying to pick it up.

Sterling: Got him. Be there in twenty. He’s going to need a whole bottle.

Me: Thank fuck. Drive safe. I’ll have one here.

I read the text to them and then slid my phone in my pocket. “Maybe he just has way too much shit going on?”

“Maybe. Like I said, he’s not the only guy in this town, and I’m just not used to being denied. Let’s drop it, hm?” Kapri wiped the dark oak bar top with a rag and then sauntered over to the man who’d been eye-fucking Kylie. I met my best friend’s eyes with a soft shrug. “Stupid Ollie. He needs a wakeup call or something.”

“If he doesn’t want her, he’s sure as hell not going to want me,” she pouted. “Fuck, I think even I want her. Can we dance? We should dance.”

She stood, grabbing my arm and dragging me to the ridiculously small dance floor and spun me around. It helped me forget everything else — it was just me and my best friend, dancing the night away without a care in the world and ignoring all the hungry eyes on us. Ky was hard on herself. She was gorgeous, and man could that girl move.

She kept me busy until Sterling was wrapping his arms around me from behind and planting a kiss to my neck with a quiet, “Don’t stop.”

“No?” I said playfully, reaching back to hold him close as I pressed against him. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too. I just want five minutes of dancing with you before we have to listen to Ollie cry all night.” He slipped his hand over my hip and around to splay his fingers over my stomach as we started to sway, and I lost myself a little there. I could see Ollie looking haunted from across the bar and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to live in that moment with Sterling.

But like all moments, it ended, and Sterling sighed as he spun me around to face him. “Whatever he says to you tonight, just know I had my reasons and I’ll explain them all to you when we get home. Understood?”

“W-What?” I stammered. “Okay. I trust you, Sir.” I took his hand as we walked back to the bar, then reached out to touch Ollie’s back. “Hey. You okay?”

I hugged him, and it took all of two seconds to figure out why Sterling felt the need to warn me.

“Your boyfriend is a cuck,” he whined. “And he owes me three million dollars.”

“Three million dollars!” I yelled it so loudly almost everyone in the vicinity glanced our way. “For fucking what?”

“My jet! He cost me my jet.”

Sterling rolled his eyes. “For the love of god, Oliver, you’re thirty years old. Pull yourself together, introduce yourself to Zeppelin’s friend, and try to have a good night. You lost your jet, and all I did was let it happen.”

I had a feeling this argument might go too far if Ollie kept drinking at the speed he was going, so I took his bottle to make drinks for the rest of us and spread it out. “Maybe we should talk about this at home?” Kylie looked like she felt out of place, making me feel really shitty about the timing. Of all the weekends, Ollie chose this one to lose his mind. “Oliver, this is Kylie. She’s here for the weekend and I’ve known her most of my life.”

He glared daggers at his brother and then turned a flirty-yet-sad smile toward Ky. “I promise I’m not normally a cry baby. But I think losing a three-million-dollar jet is a good reason. That jet was like my child.”

I bit back a “damn, not even that one stuck” joke and watched the way Kylie softened after one look in his lady-killer eyes. “Sounds like it. Maybe you just need a distraction. It looks like Kapri is setting up for karaoke; you should just put on a performance for all of us.”

“She hates me. Singing would make it worse, I sing like an angel. She’d hate me more,” he said simply. “I can’t sing. I can drink though, give that back.” He reached forward for the bottle and I moved it back.