“And here’s your whisky, sir. Neat, as you asked,” the bartender tells me as he pushes the glass across the counter. I nod, thanking him, and take the glass into my hand, swirling the amber liquid as I scan the room with my eyes.

Everyone’s happy chattering and mingling, and I’m just here in a foul mood, nursing a fuckin’ whisky. Kim’s on the other side of the room, merrily chatting with Alicia, and some other friends of hers.

What the hell am I even doing here? A fucking engagement party! First, I agree with Kim, nothing can happen between us ever again. And then I agree to accompany her to her friend’s engagement party. Please, check me into an asylum; I must be losing my fucking mind. What next? A baby shower?

I mean, my reputation is at stake here. Just imagine if anyone I know saw me here. Cody, the incorrigible ladies man, is hanging with his stepsister as if he’s in a relationship, and he’s not even fucking her. Yeah, this is not like me at all.

But, fuck it; I had to come. I heard her talk on the phone with a friend of hers, complaining that she’d have to come to Alicia’s party by herself… And then she asked me to come. What could I say to that? I couldn’t exactly tell her to fuck off. I’m an asshole, sure, but I’m not a fucking bastard.

Anyway, not everything is bad. At least there’s free booze. And Alicia’s fiancé is this billionaire, a guy with a reputation of his own, so that means that the booze is top shelf. A $10,000 bottle of whisky for free? Well, that kinda helps make peace with this situation.

Besides, Kim’s friends are hot. Most of them are taken, yeah, but there are a few single ones parading around, and let me tell you… They sure sound like a good way for me to put this situation with Kim behind me.

I mean, it’s not like I want to do it. As far as I’m concerned, I want nothing more than to head home and rip the dress Kim is wearing right now off of her body. Fuck, just thinking of that is enough to send boiling blood down between my thighs. I gotta stop these thoughts or else I’ll be walking around with a fucking boner. And, to be honest, I really don’t want to look like a giant tool (yeah, pun intended) around the people in here.

My family is pretty well off, but the guys inside this room are on a whole different level. Their net worth combined is probably enough to bribe God and lease Heaven for a few weeks.

There’s Alicia’s fiancé, Derek, but there’s also Derek Lowell, the owner of a media conglomerate. There’s also that guy from St. Albans, the one that drove the newspapers crazy a few months ago with his crazy antics. Even the most regular guy, a professor, comes from a wealthy family.

And they’re lucky, not because of the money they have, but because of their choice in women. None of them chose to go for his stepsister. Of course, I always liked being crazy enough to go after trouble, except this time I decided to jump head first into an unsolvable situation.

Fuck, I need to get Kim out of my mind. I think the best thing I can do is go for one of the hot girls in here, turn my charm up, and then proceed to fuck her brains out somewhere far away from prying eyes. What? You heard Kim; nothing is ever going to happen between us ever again.

Feeling pretty good about my plan, I scan the room once more and immediately find what I’m looking for: a blonde around the same age as Kim, legs that seem to go on forever, and a pair of lips that might just look perfect when wrapped around my cock.

She notices me looking at her and saunters over to me. As she leans against the counter, I tell the bartender to hand me a martini. When he finally serves it, I push the small glass into her petite hands, careful enough to brush my fingers against hers, and then flash her my best panty-dropper smile. What? I’m not doing it on purpose. This shit comes naturally to me.

“Here, you look like you can use a drink.”

“Look who’s talking.” She arches one eyebrow, her eyes drawn to the whisky in my hands.

“I’m just hydrating, really.”

“You’re Kim’s brother,” she says, and I have no idea if that’s an affirmation or a question. Whatever.

“I can be whatever you want me to be. Except sober, that might take a few hours,” I tell her, downing the rest of my whisky. I have a pretty good buzz going on by now, which is good; if I have to suffer through a full evening of happy couples stone cold sober, I might develop a lifelong trauma.

She laughs at my joke, and her voice seems perfect for a few minutes of intense moaning. Getting Kim out of my mind is starting to look more and more like fun. You’re probably thinking that I’m such a fucking asshole for letting Kim’s friend hit on me (or am I the one hitting on her?), but this might be good for both of us.

“Cody,” I offer her my hand, and she takes it merrily. We exchange a glance as we shake hands, and the palm of her hand lingers against mine for the necessary amount of time for me to know that we’re on.

“Lisa,” she smiles back at me, and I can’t help but picture her naked and on all fours. I might enjoy a view like that. It wouldn’t be as good as it was with Kim, but I doubt I’ll ever have anything like that again. “It’s nice of you to come with Kim. Too bad I don’t have a hot stepbrother to serve as my date.”

She lays one hand on my knee, gently laughing, and there’s no need for more. A few witty comebacks and she’d be mine to do whatever I want. This shit is like mathematics, you apply the formula, you get the results. Thing is, as hot as Lisa might be, I’m not in the fucking mood.

All I can think about is Kim.

But I really need to make an effort to forget about her, so I force myself to grin at Lisa as her hand lingers on my leg. Her fingers are slowly hiking up my leg, and I’m starting to feel --

“Cody, I need to talk to you about something.” Kim’s voice cuts through the fog clouding my mind, and I turn around to face her.

She’s standing behind me, hands on her hips and a pissed off look on her face. What did I do now?

And then I notice the way she’s looking at Lisa.

Oh, Miss Jealousy, nice to see you.