Page 241 of Vexatious Queen

Paul’s lip curved up, humor dancing in his eyes, but he didn’t say another word. Yup, whatever the answer, I wasn’t going to like it.

“You really are a troublemaker,” I mumbled.

He chuckled as I opened the door. I paused and looked at my friend and smiled, hoping he knew how much he meant to me, then walked out. Paul was an enigma inside a paradox, living in an impossible equation, and yet I wouldn’t want him any other way.

Marching across the foyer, I ignored the stares and prepared myself to face my daughter. I could only pray that this time I found the right words and that one day Ren would find it in her to forgive me.

MARCH 12 – THURSDAY 4:33 PM

Ren

Ithrew the dirty sock at Nash’s head.

“What did I say about leaving your clothes on the floor?”

The sock, which had been stuck to the bottom of my backpack, landed on his shoulder. He glared at it before picking it off.

“Ren.”

“Don’t you, Ren me. I can’t believe you’ve reduced me to a nagging wife stereotype.”

Yesterday had been so peaceful. Right now, I was fuming. It wasn’t just the sock, although Nash and his endless striptease routine when he entered the room was irritating. It was everything. I seemed to be going through the stages of grief all over again, and today was apparently my angry day.

Nash walked toward me and tossed the sock across the room, but this time it landed in his laundry basket. He put his hands on my shoulders as I glared up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and I sagged, deflating like a balloon.

“Well, that took the wind out of my sails,” I said, and he gave me a little smile, but there was no humor or teasing for once.

“Princess, it’s okay to be hurt and angry and frustrated. I would be worried if you weren’t freaking out. And I will do better with the dirty clothes. I’m still getting used to sharing a room,” he said.

“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t be taking my frustration out on you. I guess the longer I go without talking to her, the angrier I get. The shock has finally worn off, and I need answers. Her no-excuse-is-good-enough bullshit is…that’s what’s not good enough.”

Nash tipped my chin up and made me look into his eyes.

“I wish I was like Liam with all the right words to say or like Blake who finds the silver lining. Hell, if I was more like Theo, I could add a scientifically remarkable reason for accepting this miracle, or I would know the most comforting thing to say if I were Myles, but I’m not. I dealt with everything in my life through anger. So, if you need to yell at me to feel better, or if you want to have a sparring match, I’m here.”

He smirked, and I knew it was coming before he said another word.

“But my favorite method of coping is angry sex. I could really get down for you hate fucking me, Princess,” he growled and bit his lip.

I shivered, despite the heat in his eyes.

“Not everything can be solved with sex,” I said.

He screwed up his face. “I beg to differ. Even for a little while, all the problems go away.”

Nash ran his thumb along my jaw and then slid his hand down to my throat. His fingers teased me as he slowly wrapped them around to rest on my jumping pulse.

“What do you say, Princess? You want to give it a try?” Nash’s voice dropped low. The rough, ragged sound raced down my spine and set my blood on fire. “I’ll even let you smack me for old times’ sake.”

There was something seriously wrong with me, because the entire idea was turning me on way more than it should.

“You’re a terrible temptation,” I said.

His eyes penetrated my soul as he lowered his face to mine.

“It’s only terrible if it doesn’t work. Otherwise, I’ll call it a job well done.”