Bang (Blast Brothers #2) - Sabrina Stark Page 0,11

a look. "You mean the person that lasted only a month?"

"Yeah. Her."

"Gee, that's so flattering."

"I'm not here to flatter you," I said. "I'm here to offer you a job."

She bristled in my arms. "I'm not looking for flattery. I'm just saying if you don't even like me, why would you want to hire me?"

The answer to this was easy. "Because Willow likes you. And that's more important."

"Oh." Something in her expression softened. "Yeah, I could see that."

"And you'd be an improvement."

"You mean over the last nanny?" she laughed. "The one you hated?"

"I never said I hated her."

"You didn't have to say it," Cami said. "I could tell by the look on your face. You totally despised her."

"Yeah, well, I had my reasons."

"Which you still haven't told me."

"If you want, I'll tell you on the drive."

"What drive?"

"The drive to Bayside."

She made a sound of frustration. "Will you please stop that?"

"Stop what?"

"Stop acting like I'm going to take it. The truth is…" She bit her lip. "Well, honestly, I don't want to be rude or anything, but…well, I don't really like you either."

She said this like it was a bad thing.

It wasn't.

I replied, "Good."

"Wait, why is that good?"

"Because that means you'll be focused on Willow." I gave her a serious look. "And not trying to get into my pants."

Her eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Or my bank account."'

From the look on her face, I knew exactly what she was thinking.

And she wasn't wrong.

Chapter 6

Cami

What a total prick.

Even though I'd never say such a thing out loud, the point still remained. Instantly, all of Mason's bad qualities – which had almost slipped my mind as we'd been dancing – came flooding back with a vengeance.

I told him flat-out, "I don't want to get into your pants."

"I know," he said. "And trust me. That's a plus."

"That's a little arrogant, don’t you think?"

"Not if it's true."

"Oh, please. Not everyone in the whole world wants you, you know."

The pronouncement had barely left my lips when Livia appeared beside us, dragging behind her one of the first guys who'd bought her a drink earlier. The guy was probably in his late twenties, with dark wavy hair and deep smoldering dark eyes.

Earlier, Livia had called him tall, dark, and handsome. And he was – even if he'd been relegated to chopped liver status after the arrival of Mason Blastoviak.

I watched in stunned disbelief as Livia looked to me and said, "So, are you ready to swap?"

I was so thunderstruck, I replied without thinking, "Swap what?"

"Partners," she said, giving Chopped Liver a small shove in my direction.

To the guy's credit, he looked only mildly disappointed at the switch from Livia to me.

But Mason? He wasn't letting go. With a dangerous look, he told the guy, "Forget it. She's mine."

My breath caught. Of course, I knew what he meant. In his mind, I was already his employee – because yes, he was that arrogant.

Even so, something inside me stirred. Whatever it was, it was raw and primal. His words warmed me all the way down, like a smooth shot of pricey tequila.

She's mine.

My pulse quickened. Oh, boy.

What would it be like to have him say that for real?

I gave a little shake of my head. It would be totally awful, that's what. Because Mason Blastoviak – aka Mason Blast – was the least likeable person I'd ever met.

As for the new guy, he held up his hands in mock surrender. With a nervous laugh, he said, "Hey, sorry, not a problem."

Livia made a sound of frustration. "It is, too, a problem." She gave me an accusing look. "You're not even dancing."

Holy cow, she was right.

Of course, on some level I'd already realized this. And yet, I wasn't even sure when we'd stopped dancing. I just knew that we weren't dancing anymore – and that Mason still wasn't letting go.

Funny, neither was I.

In fact, unless I was mistaken, Mason was holding me tighter now than he'd been doing just a moment ago.

And I liked it.

Oh, crud.

This wasn't good.

Maybe I did want to get into his pants.

But in my own defense, my self-imposed dry spell had been going on much longer than I'd ever intended. I tried to think. Was Russell the last guy I'd slept with?

Yes. He was.

And now that I thought about it, we'd broken up last November. That was nearly a year ago.

Wow. No wonder a frolic in Mason's pants wasn't sounding so bad.

Reluctantly, I returned my attention to Mason, only to frown in new confusion. He wasn't looking at me. He