Page 14 of Dangerous Men

“Positive,” Sebastian answers, straightening his horn-rimmed glasses, face deliberately blank. He’s worn the same style of glasses since we were kids, and on anyone else, they might look old-fashioned. Uptight. Sebastian manages to make them look timeless. He crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs, casually. “He’s been in there every night this week, according to his credit card charges. I even checked his phone’s location, to be sure.”

“And he’s not… meeting anyone?” I ask.

Sebastian glances at me over the rim of his glasses, a flicker ofannoyance in his blue eyes. For someone as closed off as him, the gesture is practically the equivalent of flipping me off and calling me an asshole. “Like who?” he asks, the skepticism sharp in his tone.

“Like…” I wave my hands through the air, searching for an explanation. “Like a rival cartel, or a fucking FBI informant, or something. I don’t know. Anything that would explain why he’s so closed off lately and spending so much time in a… in a fucking bookstore!”

“Let me be sure I understand this. You’d rather believe our brother is working behind our backs with the FBI than believe he’s spending time somewhere without telling you?” When my only answer is a glare, Sebastian continues, “I’ve been watching him come and go after work for the last two days. I haven’t seen anything—or anyone—suspicious. He’s not meeting anyone.”

“So then, what? Why is he spending so much time here?”

Leaning back against his motorcycle, Sebastian pauses to consider his words, the breeze ruffling his dark hair. I wait. My fingers drum impatiently on my leg, my muscles twitching to move.

“I think it’s a woman,” he says finally.

Now that throws me.

“Bullshit,” I snap, glaring at him.

Sebastian shrugs. Nodding toward the store, he says, “There’s a woman I’ve seen a few times through the window. Looks like she works there.”

“And?” I press.

“And she’s attractive.” Sebastian straightens his glasses again. He lets my irritation roll right off him when he answers, like he doesn’t even notice. The prick. “Brunette. Good figure. She looks like his usual type.”

“And he would be keeping this from me, why exactly?”

The corner of his lip twitches upward just a fraction. “Maybe this time Sterling doesn’t want to share his toys with you, Ashton. Ever think of that?”

“Fuck you,” I say, but there’s no heat to it. I run a hand over my face, rubbing at the stubble on my jaw. “We don’t always share. He knows that.”

Sebastian’s snort is all the answer I need to know he doesn’t believe me.

And since he’s kind of being an asshole, I decide to repay him in kind. What else is a big brother for?

“Plus, I never heard you complaining,” I tease, grinning at him and elbowing him in the side. “Tell me, Doc, how often are you watching when he and I bring home a girl to play with, huh? Do you ever consider just… joining in?”

Sebastian doesn’t answer. Picking up his helmet, he slides it on as he disengages the kickstand on his motorcycle. That’s all the warning he gives me to get out of the way before he straddles the bike and takes off, leaving me to wait for a car on my own.

Fucking prick.

7

SYDNEY

I waslivid the day I caught Chase cheating. Angrier than I’d been in years. Angry enough the sheer force of it had scared me.

I’d been suspicious of the new girl he was working with ever since I’d seen them together at one of his work events a few months before. We’d been chatting happily with his boss when Chase had excused himself to grab us more drinks. When twenty minutes had gone by and he still hadn’t come back with my Prosecco, I went to look for him.

I knew. The moment I saw them together, somehow, I justknew. Maybe it was the way he was standing at the bar, his face mere inches from hers, chatting and laughing. Maybe it was the way she was slowly stroking his arm. It wasn’t the way you would touch a coworker. It was intimate. Sexual.

But I didn’t want to cause a scene. Ineverwanted to cause a scene. I wanted to be good. Calm. So, instead of confronting them, instead of walking over and demanding why the hell she was touching my boyfriend like that, I simply…wandered back into the party, a sick, dizzy feeling starting in my head and working its way down to my belly.

When Chase finally found me, almost half an hour later, I had gone through enough of my deep breathing exercises and therapy mantras that I’d finally calmed down to the point where I could almost convince myself to let it go.

But I didn’t. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to him about it; I knew he would just get defensive. But I couldn’t help myself.

“Who’s the blonde?” I asked him icily when he finally handed me my drink.