Page 51 of Fake Crown

“Was that Posey?” Jaxon asks.

“Posey Jensen?” Carl asks from the other side of the island. We’ve crowded six of us around the space since we don’t have a kitchen table.

“They’re dating,” Jaxon says while he raises the pot.

“That’s not—we’re not—” I stumble.

“First Valentina Consuelos and now Posey Jensen?” Carl eyes me. “You got a magic dick or something?” He makes a tsking noise while he checks his hand again. “If I had to pick, I’d have no problem being Posey’s side piece. To be fair, I’ll take your sloppy seconds either way. Get me some of that!”

Underneath the island, I make a fist and release it over and over again. She’d murder me if she was here to witness the jealousy running through me right now. Raw and ugly. Carl doesn’t have any chance with her, and inside I’m fuming.

I glance at the clock on the stove. Looks like I will be the first one to turn in. Morning practice waits for no man.

“Don’t tease him about Posey,” Jaxon says. “He doesn’t like it.”

Funny, he doesn’t have a problem participating in it when it’s just the two of us.

My cards are decent, and when it’s my turn, I raise the pot enough to make everyone at the table nervous. In quick succession, people fold or call. We turn over our cards, and I win the hand with three of a kind.

“It’s been fun,” I say while I collect the cash. “But I’ve got practice in the morning.”

In my room, I stare at my phone and consider turning it back on. Instead, I set my bedside clock for the alarm, and I tug the covers over me. I’ll deliver her a latte in the morning, but I won’t stay. Sleep deprivation made me completely miss an intruder entering the apartment. Jaxon’s carelessness could have gotten me murdered, and I’d have slept through the whole thing.

I’ve never let any woman steer me so far off my sleep schedule. Posey and I are temporary, and if I keep slotting her into every spare moment of my day, she might start to feel entirely too permanent.

Posey

When I get out of the shower, there are two lattes sitting on the island, but no man in my bed. I draw the towel tighter around me and check the counter for a note, but there’s nothing. Someone had to let him in.

“Was Brent here?” I call out to no one in particular. Nadiya’s and Destiny’s doors are both closed.

Deacon opens Destiny’s door and peers out. “Dropped off the lattes. Promised to bring me one next time. I gave Destiny hers. You just missed him.”

First he ignores my orgasm call last night, and this morning he doesn’t stay to fulfill the second part of our deal either. Annoyance zips through me. I showered and brushed my teeth in anticipation of a hot guy who smells like chlorine lounging in my bed. With a huff, I grab my latte and head to my room.

At my desk, I set down my drink and collapse into my chair, letting it spin around while I check social media. Sure enough, Val has posted captions to her photos that reference her boyfriend and things they’ve been doing without naming him. As I scroll through the comments, her followers are questioning the lack of thirst traps this week.

You won’t be getting any more of those, people. My fingers hover over my keyboard, tempted to stir the pot.

There’s a knock on my door, and I close my phone. “Come in.”

The door creaks open, and Nadiya stands at the entrance cradling her latte. “I mean, it’s not an orgasm, but I’ll take it.”

“Apparently it’s all I get this morning too.” I hold up my cup in a cheers motion. “How are you doing? I didn’t want to ask last night, but I saw West with that other girl on the dance floor.”

“It’s whatever.” Nadiya stares at the lid of her latte. “I broke up with him.”

“Does that make it easier?”

Her laugh holds no humor. “It should, shouldn’t it?” Her finger circles the rim of her cup, and she glances up. “Did Brent say why he didn’t answer the phone last night?”

“He didn’t even stay to talk to me.” I drum my nails on the desk.

Nadiya tilts her cup up. “You’ve been attached at the hip up until last night.” Her eyes widen. “Unless he’s back with Val. Did you read her post this morning?”

“He wouldn’t do that—” To me. “He doesn’t want her back.” If she offered him a threesome and he didn’t bow down to that mating call, he’s probably in the clear. Another week together should cement his certainty and hers that they’re done, and then we can go our separate ways. He probably doesn’t need me now, but I’m not keen to eliminate my free lattes and an abundance of male-generated orgasms just yet. Both of those are hard to find.

“You’re putting a lot of faith in a guy you met just over a week ago.”