Smug Bastard - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,70

the rush of disgust flooding my veins. “What are you doing here?”

Practically the entire town was here, but my brother was five years older than Jason, and knew from around town he was a prick. He would never have invited him.

“Leigh.” He nodded to one of Amie’s bridesmaid. “We’re sort of seeing each other.” But his eyes moved over me hungrily. “It’s really good to see you.” He licked his lip, his gaze raking down every inch of my body, making my skin crawl.

“Too bad I can’t say the same.”

“Oh, come on.” He tried to laugh it off, his smile feeling smarmy. “You aren’t still mad at me, are you?”

“Am I still mad?” I tipped my head, glaring at him. “Let me see… You tricked me to falling for you, took my virginity, then laughed about it to the entire school. What do you think?”

“That was high school, Kins. We were silly kids.” He frowned, like I was the one overreacting. “Don’t you think it’s time to let that go?” He leaned against the bar, looking me up and down again. “It’s in the past. How about we reacquaint ourselves with each other in the present? Get to know each other again.” He couldn’t seem to stop ogling my figure. “Damn, girl. You are so fuckin’ hot now. If I knew then…” He wagged his head, sucking in. “I’d certainly love to spend time with you again. Make up for our misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?” A booming laugh came from me, giving him a flirty wink. “Oh Jason, you haven’t changed a bit.”

Jason’s smile widened, puffing up with the confidence, thinking his charm was working on me once again.

“You know, my date won’t notice if we disappear for a moment.”

“If I remember correctly, you wouldn’t even need that long.” I set my glass down, my words hinting with fake sweetness, taking him a few seconds to grasp my meaning. “You are still the same sad, psychotic, insecure douchebag who puts himself far above actuality. If we go by your skills in bed, I should have been the one laughing.” I leaned in, my voice going low and taunting. “And I wouldn’t waste a single moment of my time on a man who has no idea how to please a woman. Goodbye, Jason.” I twisted to walk away.

“Kinsley, wait—” He grabbed my wrist.

My mouth opened to protest, but like a shift in the universe, hazing out everything around me, my skin prickled, my head snapping toward the palpable force. A crowd of people moved around near the entrance of the reception, but through the milling figures, eyes cut through, landing on mine.

Everything stopped, my stomach lurching as piercing blue sliced into my soul. I inhaled sharply, my heart hammering in my ears.

He was here.

Wearing a suit. One that was tailored to his body like a glove.

Holy shit.

My body reacted instantly, like a thousand strings linking us, pulling me to him. Craving, needing, wanting.

Smith’s gaze slid from me to the person next to me, the hand on my arm. It was subtle, but I saw his shoulders wrench back, his jaw set, ire flaring in his gaze.

Then the swarm of people talking and greeting him moved, shifting my point of view.

Pop. The budding hope in my chest burst, the pieces splattering wetly on the patio.

Becca.

She looked breathtaking, wearing a dusty lavender dress that fit her every curve and had a high slit up her long, toned leg. Her blonde hair was smoothed back in a low wrapped bun, which only highlighted her stunning features.

Jesus they were beautiful together. TV and magazine perfect.

“I don’t want perfect. I want real. Fierce. Genuine. Perfect destroys, kills what is wild, raw, and beautiful.”

More lies. There was no doubt he wanted to work it out with her.

The pain I had been ignoring all week slammed into me like a freight train, cracking my heart through my chest. It fell onto the pavement, flopping and gasping like a dying fish.

“Kinsley?” Jason’s voice pulled me back to him. I blinked as if I just woke up from a long nap, confused and unsettled.

Jerking my arm from his grip, I turned, swallowing back the flush of emotion and moving with determination. I couldn’t be here right now. I wasn’t strong enough to hide my pain. Needing a moment to regroup, I hustled for a doorway, when a hand grabbed me.

“Oh my god,” my sister whispered hoarsely, her manicured nails digging into my skin. “He’s here! Smith’s here. Jesus, that man is more gorgeous