Page 46 of King’s Kismet

By the time I was done with my mini rant, I couldn’t tell if I was growling or shouting, but I wanted to do both. My voice continued to rise, and the fae only stared, shocked that I was admonishing him for his manners or whatever.

I knew who he was. And I didn’t give a flying fuck that he was Winter Fae royalty. He could pick his jaw right up off the ground before he really made me mad.

“Seriously, man, are you listening to me?” I asked, fighting the urge to snap my fingers in his face. “I’ve known Sloane for years.”

Not that he cared.

Chill the fuck out, Jack. Lo won’t appreciate your help in this matter.

But even my inner voice pissed me off.

I smoothed down my suit jacket, focusing on the fabric of my chest and arms as I straightened my cufflinks. Then I rested my hands on my hips, giving the fae prince a look that should say I’m waiting for you to understand who the issue is here.

It certainly wasn’t the new stalker Sloane had acquired. Those morons came and went, usually meeting the clawed hand of my best friend when she was having a bad day…

However, she wasn’t going to kill the guy in front of me.

He was her mate.

But if she rejected him, I was going to kill him just for making me rant like a lunatic on the sidewalk outside of the club.

This wasn’t the ideal place to scream at someone.

I simply couldn’t find it within myself to care.

“You should’ve kissed her, asked her to breakfast, and then taken her home and fucked her senseless,” I calmly admitted, until my gasket blew and I ended up shouting, “Maybe not even in that order! Fucking moron.”

To better prove my point, he only stood, staring at me as he contemplated my death. I could see the violence behind those frigid blue eyes. If he ever stopped being such a dickwad, Sloane would bask in his darkness and run his shadows away.

When he smiled at me, I knew he was going to say something stupid.

“Why don’t you send her my number?” he inquired, like the world revolved around him.

Did he know who the fuck we were talking about? Had he truly lost the plot?

I knew he wasn’t drunk, so that couldn’t be the problem.

I glared at him, and my mouth opened as I ran my tongue along the backs of my teeth. He chuckled, that darkness bleeding into his tone. But he directed it at the wrong person.

“Send her your number?” I queried, my growling voice echoing around us before it turned into high-pitched recognition. “Oh my gods, you are stupid.”

Vaughn tensed at my change, but I didn’t give him a chance to reply.

“I’ll give you her number, but don’t call or text her until Sunday evening.”

I held up my index finger, stopping the argument brewing on his tongue. This wasn’t about him anymore.

“No, no. That’s for me. That will give her time to calm the hell down because she’s going to be so fucking mad that I butted my ass in this. We’ll have brunch in a few hours, and I’ll tell her what I’ve done. She has dinner with her parents every Sunday evening, and she’ll be in a great mood, so text her at like eight that night. Okay? Do you understand me?”

I trailed off, speaking slowly to make sure he was comprehending everything I was saying. I needed him to know I was really sticking my neck out for him, even though I wasn’t sure if I liked him or not.

“Okay,” he drawled.

I could see the gears spinning in his mind. The fae was seriously thinking about all the missed opportunities he’d had… Too little, too fucking late. Now he was going to have to play the long game.

Not that there was much of a wait.

Sloane wanted what she wanted when she wanted it.