Page 1 of In the Net (Sin Bin Stories #5)

HARPER

T here’s nothing more humiliating than being stood up on a date.

At least, that’s what I thought. Until right now.

No, I’ve unlocked an even greater level of humiliation: watching the guy who’s currently standing me up walk by with another girl while I’m waiting for him.

My jaw drops at the sheer audacity when I see Keith walking by with his arm slung over some girl’s shoulders. I’m staring at the sight through the window of the trendy cocktail bar where I’ve spent the last fifteen minutes waiting for him to show up.

I do a double take, blinking tightly a couple times to make sure my eyes don’t deceive me. But there’s no mistake.

To his credit, his face in person looks just like it did in his pictures; against his credit, there’s no way he’s six-one like his profile said.

My expression sinks. I rake my palm down my face, feeling perfectly pathetic. I manage to resist drawing attention to myself by groaning an obscenity, but just barely.

I pull out my phone to check and see if he at least had the decency to send me a last-minute message to cancel the date.

Of course, he didn’t.

I didn’t even want to go on this date tonight, and I wasn’t feeling much chemistry with Keith through our messages.

But with my cousin’s wedding just a couple months away, and my entire extended family hounding me nonstop about whether or not I’m bringing a date this time (with the far-from-subtle subtext being how much of a loser I must be if I don’t), I decided to put my best foot forward and try to find a plus-one instead of showing up conspicuously single.

Right now, sitting alone in this very date-y cocktail bar where it looks like literally every single customer other than me is part of a couple, conspicuously single is exactly how I feel.

I push the thought out of my head. No need to get all self-conscious on top of everything else. I doubt anyone in this place even notices me, and surely no one here is perceptive enough to suspect that I’ve been stood up.

“Harper?”

My stomach drops. Just as I was piecing back together enough of my self-confidence to do something with the rest of my Friday evening other than mope, I turn to see Mackenzie staring at me.

Most of my cousins are cut from the Mean Girl cloth, but Mackenzie in particular acts like her entire life has been one extended audition for a role in the remake of said movie. Or the next remake, I guess.

As if growing up around her as part of an extended family that gets together often wasn’t bad enough, I have the misfortune of us both attending the same college.

“Oh, hi, Mackezie,” I grumble, making no effort to summon any enthusiasm.

Her eyes flit to the empty space on the other side of my table, going wide and bright when she finds it empty. She pulls a sharp intake of breath and leans toward me.

“Oh my gosh,” she says in that kind of voice where she’s pretending to whisper but actually making it impossible for anyone nearby not to overhear, “did you just get stood up ?”

My lips purse. Mackenzie’s always been eagle-eyed at spotting any source of embarrassment or insecurity someone has. She’s spent years honing those skills when it comes to me especially.

All because she just had to be the best at everything while we were growing up—most popular, trendiest, best-looking, leader in all her extracurriculars, straight-A student—and it ate her up that in just that last category she was number two, because I was always better than her academically.

Look, it’s not like getting stood up by some jerk I matched with on a dating app is a fatal hit to my confidence. It happens, it sucks, whatever. But looking pathetic in front of my shitty cousin is hard for me to swallow.

I open my mouth, hoping I’ll be able to snatch enough acting talent out of thin air to convincingly deny her very correct observation—but before a word can leave my mouth, I hear another voice that I can’t stand, saying something I definitely never expected it of all voices to say.

“Hey, babe,” the low sound rumbles, smooth as honey. “Sorry for being late.”

My stomach tilts again, but it’s a different sensation than the one Mackenzie’s voice stirred. It’s a sharp lurch, spreading an unsettling buzz up into my chest, and making my throat feel just a tiny bit tight.

Sebastian Lawrence is standing just behind Mackenzie. His tall, broad-shouldered frame towers above my cousin and her boyfriend Liam, who’s been hanging silently by Mackenzie’s side like a well-trained dog, as the guys she dates usually do.

Mackenzie turns to him, her eyes going even wider and gleaming with appreciation when she spots him. My brows knit, and a silent grumble vibrates in my throat. Sebastian’s ego is insanely overgrown, in large part thanks to every woman he comes across looking at him like that.

Every woman but me, that is.

Sebastian slants his eyes from my cousin and locks them with mine.

For a second, my brain feels discombobulated.

All I can do is gaze at those crisp, clear blues behind the lenses of his black-rimmed glasses.

He must not have had a haircut for a while, because his scruffy, jet-black hair sits curling on the top of his frames.

Then it clicks in my head.

Sorry I’m late.

He directed those words at me.

Right after calling me babe .

Is Sebastian giving me a lifeline to act like I wasn’t stood up? So I can save face in front of my cousin? And is that lifeline in the form of him pretending to be my date?

Everything inside me revolts at the thought of even pretending to be on a single date with Sebastian.

We’ve known each other since elementary school. Since before he became a hot-shot jock who everyone fawns over. Since before he let that role go to his head and turned into someone I can’t stand.

Sitting down at an intimate window-side table with him at a romantic cocktail bar is about as appealing to me as sitting down in the dentist’s chair for a double root canal.

But right now, giving Mackenzie one more opportunity to feel superior to me is even less appealing.

It isn’t Sebastian’s style to do me a favor, so I’m not sure exactly what his game is right now, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I swallow down my pride in one big gulp and grab onto the lifeline that the one guy I can’t stand just threw my way.

“No problem,” I say, forcing a smile. “I wasn’t waiting long. I actually ran a little bit late myself.”

A wry, knowing gleam flashes in Sebastian’s eyes, as if he knows the whole story of tonight. Has he been here for a while and I just didn’t notice him?

His lips slant into a smirk. “That’s good. I usually pride myself on my punctuality, but I lost track of time taking an extra-long shower before leaving the house. Got sweatier than usual from my workout today.”

Right in the middle of this upscale cocktail bar, Sebastian busts out a very bro-y double arm flex, making sure to angle his arms high enough for the loose sleeves of his t-shirt to ride up and expose his obnoxiously round, sculpted biceps.

I suppress an eyeroll. I also suppress the desire to quip that the only way Sebastian would lose track of time in the shower is if he happened to spot his own reflection and couldn’t resist jerking off to it.

But that’s not exactly what I’d say to a guy I was on a date with, is it?

And when Mackenzie swings her gaze from Sebastian back to me, and I detect a gleam of envy in her eyes, I decide that this is one opportunity I don’t want to throw away just to make a quip about Sebastian’s ego, as tempting as that is.

It’s not like there won’t be plenty of other opportunities.

“Well, I’m glad you could make it,” I say, forcing a smile. Really forcing.

“Same here,” Sebastian says, rounding Mackenzie and pulling out the chair on the other side of my table.

“I mean, we’ve been planning this one for a while, right?

I know how disappointed you were when you had to cancel our scheduled date last week because of …

” he lowers his voice a bit, but not enough to keep Mackenzie and Liam from hearing when he says, “your bowel thing.”

Mackenzie’s brow leaps, and she takes a quick step back. “Well, we’ll leave you two alone, then. Have a nice night!”

After pushing out those words, she hurries away with Liam following a pace behind her, like she’s worried she’ll catch that bowel thing Sebastian mentioned if she spends any more time in my proximity.

My eyes narrow into unamused slices as I drill Sebastian with a glare. “Bowel thing, huh?”

His face is lit up with amusement, an impish smile tugging at the edges of his lips. He reclines back in his chair, the pose accentuating the breadth of his chest. “Had to get rid of her somehow.”

“Another genius idea of yours, Sebastian,” I deadpan sarcastically.

He props his elbows on the table, leaning toward me and staring into my eyes with a dreamy expression on his face. I tell myself that the liquid, twisty feeling in my stomach is just because my brain has no idea how to process all this.

“I bet you compliment all your dates like that,” he says, his voice suddenly low and smooth like he’s laying down vocals for an R&B track.

“What are you doing?” I ask, inching back in my chair, away from the dreamy eyes and flirty expression that just look wrong on him.

He tracks my backward movement by leaning even closer toward me over the table. “What do you mean?”

“That … thing you’re doing with your eyes. And your lips. And your voice. Stop it.”

His mouth twitches, his eyebrows wiggling. “This is just how I’d look at any girl I was on a date with. Trust me, this is a hardship. You think I’m enjoying it?”

“You can tone down the acting. Mackenzie already bought it.”

Sebastian leans back, and his face reverts to its usual expression. Still smug and arrogant, but at least he doesn’t look like he’s posing for a Valentine’s Day calendar anymore.

“So, who stood you up?” he asks.

“Just this guy from a dating app,” I sigh.