Page 2 of My Real Love Affair

Cash Bancroft, my older brother.

I hadn’t seen him in months. Maybe longer. Cash had been overseas handling the family’s international investments while I’d been doing… well, women like Sicily. Stacy? Serena?

“Cash!” I grinned, pulled my robbed closed, and gestured to the brunette beside me. “I’d like you to meet—” Shit. “This beautiful woman.”

She looked at me like I’d just grown a second head. “Seriously? We spent the entire night together and you don’t remember my name?”

“Of course I do, sweetheart. You’re…” I scrambled through my alcohol-soaked memory banks, coming up empty. “You’re unforgettable… Shelby.”

She rolled her eyes so hard I was surprised they didn’t fall out of her head. “Unbelievable.” She pushed past Cash, hesitated, and spun back to face me. “My friends were right. You’re a waste of time.”

She marched off down the hall, chin up, perky ass swaying. I leaned out the door to admire her fiery exit.

I rubbed my bare chest and chuckled. “She was a lot sweeter last night.”

Cash didn’t crack so much as a smile. Instead, he pushed his way into the penthouse like he owned the place.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice carrying that authoritative tone that made him sound exactly like our old man. He was ten years older than I was, but sometimes he acted like he was fifty years older than all of us.

I closed the door and followed him into the living room, where he stood taking in the disaster zone with obvious distaste. Empty bottles, takeout containers, and an empty condom wrapper decorated the expensive furniture like party favors.

Cash had always been the responsible one, the golden child who could do no wrong in Armand Bancroft’s eyes. While I’d been getting expelled from prep schools and making headlinesfor all the wrong reasons, Cash had been studying abroad, learning the business, proving he was worthy of inheriting the throne. He was going to be the head of the snake one day—we all knew it. And Cash being here in my penthouse looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world was probably a bad sign.

Really bad.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” he tried to lie.

“I like it.” I walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Thankfully, there was a bottle of ibuprofen sitting on the counter. I snatched it, popped two pills into my mouth, and swallowed them down while he continued to look around the rented suite. “It suits my lifestyle.”

Cash turned to face me, disapproval radiating from him like heat from asphalt. He was all barbed wire and sharp edges, every inch the Bancroft heir apparent. “Sit your ass down and clean your ears out, Austin.”

“My ears work fine.” And as much as I wanted to defy him and stay standing, I had a bit of the shakes. I needed protein. And carbs. And a lot more water.

I flopped onto the couch. Cash’s eyes dropped to where the robe had fallen open. I grinned and closed it. “What’s got your panties in a twist this time?”

“Dad is going to cut your access to your trust if you don’t get your shit together.”

I laughed—actually laughed—because I’d heard this song before. Hell, I could probably sing it from memory at this point. “Right. How many times has the old man threatened that now? Ten? Twenty? At this point, it’s like crying wolf. The threat doesn’t mean anything anymore. He already cut off the bulk of it. Whatever. Fuck it. I told him before I don’t care.”

“This time is different, and we both know you do care.”

“Is it different?” I stretched out on the couch, making myself comfortable. “Because I thought things were all good afterChristmas. We had that whole touching family reunion thing where everyone pretended to give a shit about each other.”

And that was the truth. This past Christmas, when I’d actually shown up to support Kent up north, Dad had shown up. There’d been handshakes and back slaps and talk about moving forward. I thought maybe, just maybe, they were finally ready to accept that I wasn’t going to fall in line like my brothers. That I was going to keep doing exactly what I’d always done: whatever the hell I wanted.

But apparently, there had been strings attached. They’d expected me to drop my head, tuck my tail between my legs, and transform into a good little Bancroft boy overnight. When I kept living my life the way I always had, I’d felt the familiar chill of disapproval creeping back in. The gradual freezing out that I knew so well.

Cash moved closer, towering over me like some kind of grim reaper. “You think this is a joke? You think Dad’s just blowing smoke?”

“I think the old man’s been threatening to cut me off since I was sixteen and got caught with the mayor’s daughter in the pool house. It’s his go-to move when he doesn’t like what I’m doing.”

“This isn’t about some teenage rebellion, Austin. This is about you being thirty years old and acting like you’re still in college.”

“And what’s wrong with that? I’m not hurting anyone. I’m just living my life.”

Cash reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. “You want to know what’s wrong with it? Listen to this.”

He tapped the screen, and suddenly my own voice filled the room, slurred and unmistakably mine. I was clearly hitting on someone, my words loose and careless from too much alcohol.