Page 42 of Stirred Up

“Gotta say, never would have believed it if I wasn’t seeing it.” Cole laughs, slapping Dylan on the back. “You, of all people, about to run a business.”

“My brother’s one of the best gamers out there,” I defend him instantly, earning me a bashful look from Dylan.

Cole drinks me in. “No doubt about that. But this party—I wasn’t expecting it to be so formal, so put together,” he clarifies.

“Oh.” I slink back, lowering my head. “Yeah, it’s gorgeous.”

“Can’t take the credit for that. It was all Ashley over here.” Dylan nudges his head her way.

Of course she put the party together, she’s superwoman, after all.

Ashley takes the compliment with easy poise then excuses herself to the ladies’ room. Dylan retreats a moment later to go mingle, leaving Brady and Cole standing around me.

One peek at each of them confirms that the “sizing up the competition” thing men do is in play, which is absolutely ridiculous.

“Ashley looks beautiful tonight,” I say to Brady.

His brows pinch. “She does.”

Cole moves closer to me. “Lucky man. How long have you and her been together?” he asks Brady.

Yeah, Brady? How long?Has he been stringing her along this whole time? My temper peeks at the unpleasant pang of jealousy that flares.

“We’re—”

I can’t bear to hear his answer so I cut in. “She’s good for you. I like her.”

His eyes darken at my words then narrow a moment later when Cole’s hand slides around my waist. I don’t push him away, instead allowing the touch from a total stranger.

Cole pulls me closer. “You wanna dance?”

My eyes on Brady, I’m conflicted on how to answer. I don’t want to hurt my best friend, but he’s here with someone else, which means whatever he felt for me obviously wasn’t that strong. Our friendship will rebound and maybe seeing me with someone else will help putthings back into perspective for him. I’m not his.

“You should probably go check on Ashley,” I say over the music, “in case she needs your help or something. I’m good here.”

I don’t give him a chance to reply. Cole takes my hand and leads me out onto the dance floor where he wraps his arms around my back, holding me close.

Leave it to Brady to deal with things in a mature, classy manner.

Or not.

Apparently Ashley rebuffed his plans or wasn’t fast enough in the ladies’ room, so he’s now latched and I do meanlatched, on to the tackiest bimbo in the room. Rolling my eyes and pulling Cole closer against my body, I trynotto steal glances over his shoulder at Brady’s antics, but sometimes, like a car wreck, you just have to look.

And when I do, his mouth may be on her neck, his hands groping her ass in true porn fashion, but his eyes…they’re on me. Hard, determined, and challenging, he glares my way but why I’m—for once—not sure.

Is he begging me to pull him off her or outdo his brazenness with my current partner?

Is he pissed off?

I can’t pull my eyes away despite Cole’s whispering in my ear, which is incoherent since my brain is busily processing the sight that’s crippling me with emotions I can’t squash.

As Brady’s fingers tighten and knead her tiny ass, he rolls his hips, pressing his pelvis into her—I have my answer. My brows raise, telling him I won’t back down.

Challenge accepted!

My hand slips down from Cole’s shoulder and grips the hem of my dress, hitching it up just enough to slide my leg higher up Cole’s hip. I dip my head back, my chest pushing forward, and giggle at nothing, praying Brady can hear it above the music.

A deep, low growl escaping Cole freezes me in place and I fight from recoiling at the thick length hardening against my stomach.

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