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He’s grinning like a madman, practically dancing in place as he shucks off his grass-stained shirt, revealing the stocky, muscular frame beneath, and even more of his awful amateur tattoos.
“Where have you been?” I ask, already suspecting the answer.
“With Chay,” Ozzy says, beaming with joy.
“How was it?”
“Fucking spectacular. Everything I dreamed of and more.”
“Even with your arm all fucked up?”
“Mate, I wasn’t in charge of that ride. She’s insatiable. All I could do is lay back and try to think about binary code so I didn’t nut in two seconds.”
“So how long did you last, then?” I tease him. “Four seconds?”
“First time—maybe a minute. Second time round, I was much more successful. By the third time?—”
“Alright,” I say, “I get the picture. I’m very happy for you.”
“Now’s the hard part, though,” Ozzy says.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s gonna try to fuck and chuck me, like she always does. But she’s not gonna get rid of me so easy. I may not have stamina in the sack, but when it comes to chasing Chay . . . I’m fuckin’ Lance Armstrong.”
“Good luck with that,” I say, shaking my head at him.
“You think you’ve got a better chance?”
“With what?”
“The forbidden princess.”
I consider lying to Ozzy, telling him I’m not going to pursue Zoe. But it’s pointless. He’s my best friend. He knew I liked her from the moment she first caught my eye. And right from that moment he started telling me what a terrible idea it was to kick that particular hornet’s nest.
“I might,” I say.
“You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
“A lot of people tell me that. It hasn’t happened yet.”
“Only takes one time.” Ozzy grins.
“That arm feeling better?” I ask him, to change the subject.
“Yeah it is,” he says. “That’s the healing power of Chay.”
I roll my eyes. “I bet.”
I head to the showers before I have to hear more about Chay’s magical pussy powers.
There’s a communal bathroom on each floor of the Octagon Tower. Four floors in total, with all the male Junior Heirs residing on my floor, including Rocco Prince.
So it’s not totally unsurprising when Rocco interrupts my nice hot shower.
I don’t bother to cover up. I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.
Rocco stands there in his robe, looking me over. There’s something inhuman in the way he cocks his head, his eyes flicking around like some kind of raptor—intelligent, but without the normal range of emotion.
