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Let’s not pretend I didn’t find out everything there was to find out about that asshat. He’s a fuckingKingsley. In this city, that means something. His family owns half the commercial real estate in Los Angeles. I’ve dealt with his shithead father a few times since I moved back, and if he’s anything like that elitist piece of shit, I won’t let him get anywherenearmy girl.
I wonder if she knows her live-off-the-earth surfer asshole is almost as rich as me.Almost.
Unlike me, who’s legacy is steeped in generations upon generations of old money, Dipshit and his breed come from a few generations of new money.
There’s a commitment, an intrinsic security that comes with the comfort of old money. When you’ve acquired recent fortune, you’re always waiting for the bottom to drop out, leaving you with nothing to stand on, and a fear of careening back to ground level.
I knew the feeling well, not having actual Fox blood pumping through my veins.
Is he dedicated enough to not falter? Is he as controlled as me, making sure nothing stands in the way of him and the legacy he’s been gifted?
The bar he pretends to work at, along with a few others, are owned by him specifically. His daddy’s name nowhere in sight. His businesses better be on the up and up because if they’re not, if he so much as wrote off a bottle of birthday cake flavored vodka to feed a drunk bachelorette party skank before he took her home, I’m going to find it. And then I’m going to nail him to the fucking wall and send his ass to prison with a bow wrapped around it.
He may be a Kingsley, but I’m a fucking Fox. Formerly a ravenous coyote, scraping together what I needed to survive with only my wit and my will to live.
If this hasanythingto do with that shithead, he’s going down.
TWENTY
ALECK
Dinner at Sebastiano’s Steak House was seamless. Preston took on his role as the life of the party, cracking jokes and making everyone laugh and feel comfortable. Winter and her friends gabbed about everything under the sun, including her date with Dickface, never sparing me a glance.
It was maddening, really.
I thought we came to some sort of agreement before I fucked her six ways to Sunday and made her come like twenty times under my tongue, my hands, and cock. I told her once I entered her, she’d be mine. And while she may not have said the specific words, she accepted my terms when she let me enter her.
Now here she is, ignoring me like I don’t exist and talking about some bullshit date I know meant nothing to her. If it did, she wouldn’t have come home with a craving for my cock and the willpower of a junkie with a hit in her hand.
“Alright,” Preston says over the bass of dance music, pulling me from my thoughts. “What’s going on? You’re miles away, and you haven’t stopped grinding your teeth since you and Winter stepped off the elevator.”
After dinner, we stopped off at the resort bar. The girls wanted to dance, and I’ll never turn down a nightcap with my best friend. Especially when it’s distracting me from my anger and overall feeling of displeasure.
“I’m good, Press,” I say, lifting my hand to the bartender to order another drink.
“Bullshit. Let’s hear it. And don’t fucking lie. I’ve known you longer than you’ve known your own brother.”
“My brother’s a little bitch,” I grit, pulling the full glass of whiskey the bartender set in front of me to my nose. Its earthy spice stings my eyes and calms my nerves.
I glance up at Winter at the other end of the bar, dancing with her arms wrapped around Sondra’s neck. She looks happy—she’s so fucking beautiful when she’s happy.
When she fell asleep in my arms, she was happy, peaceful even. Her eyes were full and glittering with lust and interest that night. She hung off every word I said, and I can’t lie, it felt good knowing how engrossed in me she was.
That feeling usually makes me feel boxed in. That feeling is typically why I don’t stay after I fuck. I can’t stand the intimacy, and I have no interest in becoming someone’severything.The thought alone makes me want to walk backward atleasttwenty feet.
But I don’t feel that way with Winter. With Winter, I want more. I had it, somehow I’ve lost it, and now I want it back.
Dottie hugs up next to the girls, and the three of them laugh about something Sondra said. I look past Preston and see Keith talking to a man who’s currently so red-cheeked at somethingKeithhas said, he’s almost neon. If I wasn’t in such a piss mood, I’d be happy for him. Keith seems like a really good guy. A guy who wants to see Winter happy.
“Alright…” I throw back the rest of the whiskey in my glass, then slide it across the bar. “Youcannottell Sondra because girls have no fucking code. You tell her, and I won’t be able to run fast enough before she spills the beans to Winter.”
The corner of Preston’s mouth hitches into a smirk. “You slept with her. You’resleepingwith her. Like, more than once. I know.”
My eyes narrow. “How?” The music pulses through my body, agitating me further. I fuckingloatheclub music.
“Well…” He takes a slow sip from his red wine. “Everyone knows.”
Holding my apprehensive stare, I lean my hip against the bar and cross my arms over my chest. “Again, how?”
