Page 58

We can’t keep doing this.

I’ve ran that statement through my head too many times to count, but my heart refuses to accept it, otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting in a dim corner of Kaden’s club stalking Jules as she hangs out with her friends. A dark-haired guy with tattoos sleeving his arms is sitting next to her, and I want to throttle him every time he lays a hand on her shoulder.

It doesn’t matter that he’s closer to her age.

And probably free to be with her.

I still want to kill him.

As I take another drink of my whiskey, someone steps between me and my view of Jules, casting a shadow on my already shitty mood. I look up and find my brother eyeing the drink in my hands.

“You’re back early,” he says.

“Wrapped things up quicker than planned.”

He hops onto the other barstool at my small table for two. “You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Something bugging you?”

I cock a brow. “Why would anything be bugging me?”

“Dude, you’re sitting here looking ragged as hell and drinking.”

“Monica and I haven’t been getting along lately.” It’s true enough, even if it’s a massive understatement. The real reason I look like hell is sitting across the club laughing at something Tattoo Guy said to her.

Kaden turns his attention on the object of my obsession, and it’s too late to avert my gaze. Besides, he knows me better than anyone on this planet, and I’m sure he’s sniffed out the truth by now. I’ve always had a hard time hiding things from him.

“You got something going on with your assistant?”

“No.”

“Then why do you look ready to murder the lead singer of my band?”

I level him with a serious, let-it-drop stare. “Nothing’s going on with her.”

“Not because you don’t want it to,” he says, tapping his fingers on the tabletop.

I shoot him a scowl. The last thing I need right now is a lecture from my brother, especially since he’s not likely to say anything I haven’t already told myself. “Doesn’t matter what I want.” I hold up my left hand, displaying my wedding band. “This makes it a moot point.”

“You mean the shackle Dad pressured you into putting on that finger?”

“Don’t start with me, Kade. I married her because I loved her.”

The past tense in that statement hangs between us, and I throw back the rest of my drink.

“Talk to me, little brother. What’s going on?”

“How about another drink?” I say, setting the empty tumbler down with a thump.

He flags down a barmaid and orders us both another round. While we wait, the silence between us is strained, especially considering he went out with Jules.

It was only one time.

I’m a stranger to logic and reason tonight, so it’s best to not even go there. Instead of stewing over Jules with my brother, I take in the scene. The dance floor in front of the stage is packed with moving bodies, even though the night is early, and the band isn’t due to start playing for another hour.

“You’ve done well here,” I tell Kaden.