restraining myself from flipping him off.
As he moves closer, my mouth waters.
Jesus.
Why does he have to look so damn hot?
I wish I’d had a case of drunk goggles that night—that alcohol had altered my hot-guy meter, and in real life, he was hideous.
But the universe is always against me, and he’s just as hot when I’m drunk as he is when I’m sober.
“Hey there!” a woman—her age most likely around my brother’s—shouts, walking toward us, her kitten heels crunching against the gravel. “You must be Cohen and Archer.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Mariah.”
She shakes Cohen’s hand and then Archer’s. I roll my eyes at the appreciative once-over she gives my brother. When she turns to Archer and does the same, a wave of jealousy hits me that shouldn’t exist. Her gaze swoops down his body, taking considerably longer than she did with Cohen, as if she’s imagining him naked.
Not that I blame her.
I smile, knowing I’ve one-upped her.
I have seen him naked.
Felt him thrust inside me.
Had his lips on mine.
Archer answers with a head nod, not giving two shits about her presence. Dude does not like conversation. At least it’s not just me. He’s a dick to almost everyone—with the exception of Noah because the kid is too cute to be a dick to.
If Cohen and Archer go into business together, I’ll need to learn how to set aside the hurt he caused and reel in my hatred toward him. I’m not a bitchy person. People refer to me as fun, quirky, a smart-ass with a nosy side.
I’ll never be able to fully stomp away the array of emotions I feel for the man. So, as much as I’ll hate it, my time at their bar will be limited. Until I get my emotions in check at least. I’ll blame it on school, which won’t be a complete lie because classes have been kicking my ass lately.
Scratch that.
I won’t let him win.
It’ll be my brother’s business too.
Let Archer deal with me every single day, like I’m a thorn in his side he can’t pluck away.
I give her a slight wave as I introduce myself and Noah.
“As you can tell, the building needs some care,” Mariah says, starting her tour of the old restaurant. “A bar would do well here, and you’d hardly have any competition. The owners are moving to Florida and want to sell ASAP, so they’re open for negotiation.”
The building is large with plenty of space to create a bar front and outdoor seating, and there’s room in the back for the kitchen and office space.
It reeks of mold.
Loose floorboards creak with our steps.
The roof slightly sags.
Old kitchen appliances are shoved around the back.
Needs some care is an understatement.
Ugly but restorable.
When my brother wants something, he works his ass off for it. I have no doubt he’ll do the same with this.
“Daddy, I need to potty,” Noah says, grabbing his elbow and glancing up at him.
“Buddy, there’s not a restroom in here,” Cohen replies. “Can you hold it?”
Noah shakes his head, jumping up and down, and presses his hand against his pants. “I really, really, really need to go.”
“My mom owns the alterations shop across the street,” Mariah says, pointing toward the entrance of the building. “He can use the restroom there.”
“Thank you,” Cohen says with a sigh of relief. He grabs Noah’s hand before glancing at Archer and me. “Keep looking around and tell me what you think.”
The building turns silent as they leave, wood creaking in their wake. I should’ve faked needing to use the restroom and gone with them.
Archer fishes his phone from the pocket of his jeans and focuses on it without a peek in my direction, as if I were not even here.
“Wow,” I say. “I see you’re still a rude asshole.”
“Still a rude asshole,” he answers, his tone flat. “It seems it’s your favorite thing to call me, so I won’t try to change your mind.”
“Why’d you do it then?”
“Do what?”
“Sleep with me. Why would you sleep with someone you can’t stand the sight of?”
“Never said I couldn’t stand the sight of you. The sight of you is very nice actually.”
I snort. “Says the guy who won’t even look at me.”
He tilts his chin up, and his eyes meet mine with disdain. “Is this better?”
“No,” I answer, waving my hand in the air. “Go back to focusing on your phone, or sit in your car, or leave. Any of those would be better.”
“You were just mad I wouldn’t look at