IWATCHLIAMBRENNER drink me in, only to become bored with this interaction. As much as I relish the attention, I can’t touch him. He’s off-limits, and I’m already tired of needing to behave.
“Are you here with your friend?” I break the awkward silence between us, trying to keep the bite out of my tone.
“My friend?” Brenner questions, rubbing his beard, lost in thought. The thought most likely being how fast it would take him to dick me down.
Glancing over at the bar, I take in Collins’ appearance. He’s shorter than Brenner, with slicked-back light blonde hair, and dressed how I imagine my grandfather would if we were an all-American family at a family soccer game. Fuck’s sake.
It’s one thing seeing a picture and run down of who you’re after in a file. Then there’s seeing the fucker in real life and realizing you have to pursue a man so far from your type that you question your life’s choices. Bastian Collins isn’t ugly, but I know we are complete opposites even without having a conversation with the man. His eyes are locked on Brenner’s back, insecure with his environment, and it looks like he's about to run for cover the second someone approaches him.
“The blonde over there who’s dressed to impress the hell out of me.” I try to keep the repulsion from my face, which is easier than I thought it would be when Brenner realizes who I’m talking about. The disbelieving look he gives me is the highlight of my night thus far. He might be hot, but it can’t hurt to knock him down a peg or two.
“You want to talk to Bastian?” Brenner scoffs as I giggle, only adding to his irritation.
“Did you think I wanted to talk to you?” I eye him up and down.
“You’re not even that cute.” Well, shit, I struck a nerve already. Someone isn’t used to being turned down.
“Oh, ouch,” I say with a pout. “Famous words from a rejected man. Trust me, Princess; I am in no way, shape, or form ‘cute.’”
“You’re something else.”
“You have no fucking idea.”
My small amount of taunting puts a look of determination on Brenner’s face. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and doesn’t miss how I zero in on the movement. Confidence finds its way back, and he smirks.
“I would love to find out.”
“Not even in your sloppy wet little dreams, big boy. Introduce me?” I beam at him while he weighs his options.
Either way, he has to go back to his friend. At least that’s what I assume decent people do. Maybe he’ll just take his pity party elsewhere, but I’d love to keep getting under his skin while I hang all over his bestie.
Brenner groans in defeat, then turns on his heel, leading us back to Collins. The music is pounding, but by the heaviness in Brenner’s step, I’m surprised we can’t hear his stomping above it. I follow a little further back to allow him to pass a message to his friend. A snide comment, I’m sure of, but it gives me the opening to sashay my way over, swaying my hips, making sure Collins knows exactly who all this is for.
“You have an admirer,” Brenner grumbles to his friend.
The furrowed brow and confused look on Collins’ face nearly sends me into a fit of laughter. I’m in my element between one man who’s been wounded by broken pride and the other who’s about to have a panic attack.
Torture doesn’t always have to involve blood and gore. Only the best kind, the kind I prefer, but I’ll appreciate whatever I can get it. Like these two fuckwads in their moment of misery.
Collins turns to me, a horrified look on his face. His body goes stiff as if he were an opossum playing dead. Christ. The lack of confidence in this man has me throwing my own internal temper tantrum. I’m down for anything, but this is going to be more work than it’s worth. Not to mention if I pull through and manage to start a “relationship” with him, the sex is bound to be nightmare worthy. I bet this motherfucker still lives with his mom.
“Well, aren’t you just handsome?” I say, giving Collins my bedroom eyes and probably just feeding his anxiety.
Brenner’s grunt snaps Collins out of his cocoon of misery. He takes a moment to drink me in as I impatiently wait for him to summon his balls from somewhere within his body.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be so forward, and I’ve just never seen someone so handsome before. The way you hold yourself is astounding,” I purr.
Brenner nearly spits his drink out. My words are finally getting somewhere with Collins as he clears his throat and steps closer to me.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says with a shy smile. “I was just a little taken aback. Can I buy you a drink?”
A false blush rises on my cheeks. I give him a soft nod and bat my eyelashes. I can hear Breckin and Hazel doing commentary through my earpiece like it’s a fucking sports event. Evidently, the dumbasses forgot to mute it. I can’t deal with the stupid chatter while fielding Collins’ insecurities. I’ll gut them both if they fuck this up. Unless Donovan or Dad beat me to it.
Collins leans against the bar and stares at me. His newfound confidence and my awareness of how close he is, have me swallowing back a heave. The last thing I expected was such a switch. Maybe he has something he needs to prove to his friend, but it lessens my workload a bit.
I catch Brenner from the corner of my eye, watching everything with obvious horror. There’s pride, amusement, and a small amount of secondhand embarrassment, but horror is by far the most prominent.
“What’s a girl gotta do to get to know you…?”