Free Cocky F@#ker (Tangled Desires #3) by Misti Murphy Page A

at home, I have these fragmented dreams, bits of the past and our current situation slicing together, that leave me staring at the ceiling, wondering if he’s sleeping. Knowing he probably isn’t, since he doesn’t sleep much.
    I guess it has something to do with what he told me about his not being able to do his job anymore. I want to ask him about it. There’s a couple times I’ve caught him staring into space, this look in his eyes that makes me he think he’s hurting far deeper than he’ll ever let on. It tears me up.
    It’s only because we’re family. We grew up together. We were close once. It has nothing to do with the fact that I still to this day wonder what our lives would be like if he hadn’t left me in Vegas.
    Maybe I should date again. Perhaps getting out there is exactly what I need to stop focusing on him. But probably not with someone my sister sets me up with. And not, I realize, until I file the annulment. I dig through my handbag to find it’s still there. Why the hell can’t I do it already? It doesn’t mean anything. It never did.
    “What have you got there?” Gaby slides the tray of food and sodas onto the table before dropping into her seat.
    “N-nothing. Just some paperwork I forgot to deal with.”
    Her brow furrows, and she narrows her gaze on me. “Are you lying? You know I can always tell when you’re lying.”
    “Of course not.” I close my bag and hang it over the back of my seat before picking up my wrap. The garlic and lamb smells like heaven, and my stomach growls as I bite into it. “So tell me about Dean.”

Chapter Six
     
     
    Mace
    I’m sick of this house. Of not having a routine in place, or a plan in action. It’s doing my head in, especially since it gives me way too much fucking time to go over every mistake I’ve ever made. It’s funny how most of them revolve around one girl. I fucked up. I’ll own it, but I was ready to forget, to forgive, if she’d asked it of me.
    It was probably best that things went the way they did. I pour my second, or perhaps it’s my third cup of coffee of the morning. I’m way too fucking edgy and running isn’t cutting it anymore. More miles hasn’t made the difference I’d hoped they would.
    And something is going on in this house. Between my siblings. I can fucking feel it. There’s an undercurrent, but I don’t know what of. I press my fingers to my temples as Razer joins me, grabbing the juice from the fridge and pouring himself a glass. “Didn’t sleep?”
    “Never fucking do.” I swirl the tan liquid around in my cup, watching it circle. “What are you up to?”
    “Thought I’d take Claire out for a ride on my bike.”
    “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.” I’ve been back for a week, and I’ve barely seen my best friend. Little Bit’s monopolizing his time, and I get that she needs him right now. She’s been through hell with that bastard she was engaged to. I have half a mind to find him and let loose some of this irritability on him. But she doesn’t want that. For some reason she’s perfectly content to let karma knock him on his ass. I wish I thought the world worked like that. “She still not doing well?”
    “Claire’s stubborn and strong. You know that.” There’s something about the way he’s talking that gets my attention. And when I glance at him he’s got that look on his face, the one where he’s got something to say, but he’s keeping his mouth firmly shut. “She’s moving on with her life.”
    He exhales sharply, his brow furrowing as he taps his fingers against the glass he still has his hand wrapped around. He seems jittery. It’s almost the same way he behaved the last time he and Lil Bit were under the same roof when he fantasized himself in some sick kind of love with her. Falling for our sister was ridiculous in the first place. Not that he knows I know. But, doing it again, screwing around with her, that would be fucking depraved.
    Sure, they’re not