Page 18 of Royal Desire

That’s when Dean Moretti entered the picture. But instead of dumping my best friend, Ruby, she and I adopted Dean into our club.

Dean’s great. He always has been. There are times in your life when a guy needs a guy friend.

Like when you fall in love with your girl best friend, start with kissing and eventually move onto sex, only to end up with a broken heart the size of Alaska.

Yeah, it’s important to have friends like Dean.

But really, it was always Ruby.

I hate her and love her and will forever be obsessed with her. Obsessed with the way she used to look at me. Obsessed with the way she moved, the sound of her voice, and the way she felt in my arms. And really obsessed with the way she felt when I was inside her and made her come.

When she broke up with me for one week our senior year, I thought that was the lowest point in my life, but it wasn’t. It was when she left me for good without a word, a breakup note, or even one last secret handshake as a final goodbye.

So the fact that she turned into a bitch and for some reason is pissed at me when I’m the scorned one in this fucked-up scenario, really chaps my ass.

What can I say? I’m fucking smart. I tested as gifted in school. Graduated college in three years. Passed the bar exam with minimal prep on the first try. And I was on my way to being the youngest partner of my firm when shit went down at home.

Obsessing over every detail of my life is normal for me. My list is long, and I don’t need anything added to it.

Which brings me full circle to my current place in hell. Who knew there was another depth in the fiery pits than where I already was? In hindsight, shallow hell is way better than this.

It’s all relative.

And it’s Friday. I’m a thirty-two-year-old single man with nothing to do.

My cell vibrates on the desk for the umpteenth time. I just finished conference calls with my last clients of the week, so I give in and answer.

“What?”

“What?” Dean bites, half out of breath. “That’s all you have to say to me after what went down at lunch?”

I swivel in my chair to look out the windows. It’s perfect and sunny. We’ve had enough spring false alarms in the last month. If warmer weather isn’t here to stay, then put me out of my misery now. “Are criminals on the loose? Are you in a foot chase?”

“Hardly.” Dean’s tone and breaths are rhythmic. “I’m running the trails. After you left, I had the good old Payne special—double cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke. I thought I was going to be sick.”

“Better you than me,” I mutter.

“I had to if I wanted Ruby to talk to me. I feel like I have a brick in my gut. Now tell me, what the hell’s going on between you two?”

“What did you expect to go down? I haven’t seen her in over a decade. I’m surprised it didn’t turn into a Jerry Springer special.”

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit. I’ve seen the video. It’s already circulating on Winslet Uncut.”

I stand and pour myself another glass of water from the crystal pitcher Sadie fills every morning before I come down for work. “Ah, the rogue Facebook group that no one polices—not even you. It really is the best source for online gossip. I’m not sure if I’m pissed or proud I made Uncut.”

Dean keeps talking. “It’s not a good look.”

“Well, lucky for me, I don’t give a shit what I look like. I’m not you, thank fuck. Honest to God, being you has to be exhausting. If you’re not wrangling cows, you’re airing up old ladies’ tires who nine-one-one you because they think it’s a legit emergency. You have the most thankless job ever. Maybe I should teach you about investments and trading. I’ll give you my C-List clients.”

“I’m me for a reason. No amount of money in the world would convince me to stare at numbers all day. And quit deflecting. We’re talking about you. You really need to get your shit together. I stayed and talked to Ruby for another hour. She’s not going anywhere, man. You two are going to have to get used to seeing one another without blowing your fucking lids.”

Speaking of blowing, I reach down and adjust my junk. I need to hit the gym and follow it up with a cold shower. The desire to jerk off to the love-of-my-life-turned-bitch is strong, but I refuse to give in to her superpowers.

Mind over dick, Payne. Mind. Over. Dick. We can do hard things, buddy.

“No one’s flipping a lid. At least not anymore. If Ruby chooses to be a martyr for some un-fucking-known reason, then so be it. She caught me by surprise, but I’m over it. Onward and upward, as they say. Well, for everyone but Ruby. She’s the one still waiting tables at the Combover and singing covers in the dark corner of a seedy bar.”

“Have you been to The Speakeasy? There’s not one seedy thing about it.”