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“Still not going to admit it?” I said when it was clear we were at an impasse, neither one of us willing to give in.
“I have nothing to admit.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“Do you want me to just let you go and have your jacking off in public tantrum? I figured you wanted me here to prove a point. And when I don’t react, you can drop it.”
This motherfucker.
I almost laughed, and I felt like Heath Ledger’s Joker on the verge of my damn villain arc. I wanted to burn him to the ground for looking me in my eyes and denying it.
He had me torn between hitting him and calling his bluff. I was half tempted to get my dick out here in public.
We stayed locked like that, in a standoff.
“We need to get out of here.” Sebastian became the voice of reason.
Both our heads snapped towards him, and the hiss on Royal’s lips was venomous. Like he would wring our bodyguard’s neck.
Did he want me to keep going?
There was some sick satisfaction in it.
I liked that I brought this out in him, and maybe that made me a horrible person.
“There are photogs outside,” Sebastian said when we didn’t break apart.
“Fuck,” Royal used his grip on my shirt to shove me back. He turned away to adjust.
He wasstillhard. I couldn’t help the filthy smirk that took my mouth.
I’d done that.
I was sure of it.
I affected him, and I wanted more of it.
Today started my ‘ruin my best friend’s willpower’ origin story.
And I didn’t care what type of person that made me.
TEN
Royal
He knew.
I knew he knew.
So it should be easy to admit, right?
Wrong.
I couldn’t do it.
He walked out on stage with bright red hair for our next show. He looked like he’d stuck his head in Kool-Aid, and yet somehow, it made him hotter. And if that didn’t set me on edge, he paired it with a Joker-esque purple trench coat and smeared lipstick. He was already pale enough to be the character by himself.
Fine. Tame, actually.
