Page 21 of Corrupt Me

“Fucker, I had to physically restrain you when I told you she was on a date,” Kaden says, stepping into the room. These two are a headache on their own; together, you stand no fucking chance.

“I was worried.”

“Sure,” they say, looking at each other knowingly.

“Are you done pissing me off?” I huff, the long breath ringing of exasperation.

“We’re not the problem,” Kaden says smugly.

“You are,” Dane finishes, striding into the kitchen.

“Did your women throw you out of the room?” I ask, not finding any other logical explanation.

“I didn’t want to wake up Celine,” Kaden says matter-of-factly. It’s a wonder a vein hasn’t burst in his head from all the stress. That means he and Blake will engage in their nightly round of fighting.

Blake grins. “Mia needs her sleep.”

I grunt as the others chuckle. “Stop saying shit like that.”

“Stop imagining what I do with my woman. I know what could help. Go get some yourself and spare us all your cranky ass.”

“I don’t fucking know what you’re talking about.”

“This asshole is in full denial—worse than I was,” Blake mutters, clicking his tongue.

“I don’t even think you know what that fucking means,” I snap.

“I’ve always taken what I wanted,” Dane replies smugly.

“Are you insinuating something?”

“Stop playing dumb, Hunter,” Kaden cuts in.

“Nothing is going on. I don’t fucking know what your problem is, even if there were.”

“The fact that you’re saying ‘if there were’ is your problem,” Dane says, being an unapologetic troublemaker, clearly loving stirring shit up.

“It will hit him,” Kaden sighs. “It might take a while because, on top of being an idiot, he’s stubborn—but it will.”

Blake shakes his head at me. Friends, my ass.

Fed up with them, I head back to my room. But sleep doesn’t come easily. My mind’s a war zone, reflected in my twisted sheets as I toss and turn, trying to find oblivion. Thoughts of Bailey keep me awake, but I prefer she steals my sleep rather than all the other shit—the threat hanging over us, my life back at Preston boarding school.

Thoughts of her are a sweet torment. It’s just there, a part of my days and nights, a silent companion that I have gotten used to.

I am not in denial.

What denial?

There is no denial.

I don’t want Bailey. I knew that from the start. From the first moment we met, I pushed her away for that reason.

I can’t have her anyway. I did everything I could to prove my point, acting like a jerk to protect her from me. Someone as pure as her doesn’t deserve a wreck like me. But sure as fuck, no one like Eric does either.

I am not jealous—I’m livid. She deserves someone I doubt even exists. What are the chances of her finding her equal? Slim to none. But I’ll be damned if she ends up with someone unworthy of her.

It’s Friday night, and we just returned from dinner with Cassandra.

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