Page 97 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

Kevin immediately covers his mouth when his eyes flicker behind me before clearing his throat and saying, “I mean, Briar’s like family. A cousin. I would hope Cecilia knows how close I am to my family.”

What.

Oh.

Fuck.

Dread slams into me, and embarrassment rushes as I stare at the man.

Shit.

Fucking idiot.

Me. I’m the idiot.

Not him.

“So,” Kevin clears his throat. He nods at Oscar before winking at Briar. “I'm going now.”

Before I can say anything else, he brushes past me with his eyebrows raised and walks away. I stay rigid, staring at where he stood. I feel a soft hand on my arm, pulling me back from my spiraling mind as I turn around to look at Briar.

She gives me a small smile. “Hey, you.”

I look away from her. “Well, have a good evening, then.”

I turn around and head to the exit, but Briar’s hand tightens around me.

“Where do you think you’re going, angel?” She scoffs, pulling me to the corner of the bar. I glance at Oscar and Nancy, who stare intently at their drinks as if they were super interesting.

I grunt softly as Briar shoves me on a chair before pulling another one in front of me and sitting on it herself. She grabs a small table and pulls it toward us. She already has a beer and slowly slides it toward me.

“You look like you need this.” She chuckles, her eyes bright with amusement.

I glare at her but take the drink and chug it. When I slam the glass back on the table, Briar already signaled for the bartender for another round.

“I’m not staying long,” I mutter as the bartender comes to serve us another pint of foamy beer.

“Shut up and enjoy your beer,” Briar says after a small sip of her drink. She wipes the foam on top of her upper lip with the back of her hand, then stares at me.

I squirm, not liking the weight of her gaze.

“What?” I snap, channeling my inner asshole again.

“Nothing,” She shrugs, biting her bottom lip. I stare at it. “I just found out Jealous-Rurik is super sexy. It’s making me feel all hot and bothered, that’s all.”

I scoff, “I wasn’t jealous. I just don’t like cheaters. I thought your cousin was… never mind.”

“No, I get it,” Briar nods, tapping her fingers against the glass. “I hate cheaters, too.”

The way she says it makes me wonder if she experienced something awful during her previous relationships, and I suddenly feel like punching someone just by thinking about it.

Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“How many guys have you been with?” I blurt out.

She gulps her drink and raises a brow. “What makes you think it’s just guys?”

My eyes narrow, and I feel my molars grinding painfully.

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