“Well,” I said out loud, resting my forehead in my hand. “None of that went as expected.”

* * *

Seeing Kristen reminded me of the first time I’d seen her. It was the last thing I really wanted to think about, but her presence brought back memories of that night, replaying them over and over in my head like some kind of twenty-four-hour humiliation network. That was the night that Brock had . . . had kind of chosen her over me.

“He’s going to get laid tonight,” the girly, sing-songy voice sang in my ear. “Probably more than once and probably with more than just one of those horny as hell chicks.”

I tensed. The flush hit my cheeks first before racing across my face and then down my throat. “No, he’s not.”

“Yes he is,” whispered an evil voice in the back of my head.

Nope. I refused to listen to that stupid voice. This weekend was different and this night wasn’t going to end in Brock’s bedroom turning into a one-night-stand train station. We were going to dinner. We were just running a little late. That’s all.

Squaring my shoulders, I looked over at Katie. Her glossy bubblegum-pink lips were turned down at the corners as she stared at the bar. I didn’t dare look further south than her face even though it felt like I was compelled by some kind of dark magic to do so. She was barely dressed. Like, all she was wearing was a bra and shorts that were tinier than the underwear I normally wore. She was on break—an early break I was guessing since it was only a little after eight.

“We’re going to be leaving soon,” I insisted, turning the bracelet on my wrist. “He just hasn’t seen those guys in a while.”

“Uh huh. Girl. Honey child. Little boo boo babe,” Katie cooed, leaning forward. And I was afraid that her boobs would suddenly spill out onto the high-top table between us. “Open your eyes and look—really look.”

Part of me didn’t want to, but I did, because I couldn’t help myself, and when I looked, I saw Brock first. I always saw him first.

He was the most handsome man I’d ever seen, and that was saying something, because Jax, the co-owner of Mona’s, was behind the bar, and he was stunning. And Brock was standing there with two of the hottest cops in the state—Reece and Colton Anders.

But they didn’t compare to Brock’s rugged attractiveness.

He had his hip propped against the bar, his head tipped back as he laughed at something Colton had said. Dressed in faded blue jeans and a tight black shirt that showed off the muscled forearms and defined pecs, he’d just gotten his brown hair cut again. It was cropped close on the sides and was longer on the top, standing straight up.