Page 24 of Love's Free Will

“You done?” I asked, crossing my arms.

Royal’s eyes flickered down my body for a split second before he smirked. “Yeah, I’m good. You?”

I let out a slow breath. I refused to let him get to me. But the way he was looking at me, the way he stayed looking at me, it was distracting especially when he licked those thick pink lips. I hated him so much, especially hated that he got to me to easily and I let him.

King shook his head. “Damn Ave, that was you singin’?”

I turned to him, grateful for a normal conversation and a reason to turn my gaze from Royal’s. “Yeah.”

“That shit sounded good as hell,” Zay added. “You sure this ain’t for Ro’s album?”

I snorted. “Absolutely the fuck not. He don’t deserve my best.”

Royal’s brows lifted. “Excuse me?”

I turned back to him. “You heard me. You don’t deserve my best; you get all my mediocre shit. You’re an asshole.”

Royal tilted his head, that cocky little grin creeping back onto his face. “You crazy as hell if you think you not givin’ me your best,” he said, voice low. “You tryin’ to impress me, and you know it.”

I scoffed. “Royal, please go to the deepest parts of hell.”

“Already there,” he murmured, his eyes flickering over me. “You comin’ with me?”

My stomach flipped, and I hated it. I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he occupied my damn mind.

Even now, standing there, his chocolate skin lightly misted with sweat, muscles on display, tattoos covering his chest, neck and arms… I had to actively remind myself to stop staring. This man never had a damn shirt on in the studio, and it was distracting as hell.

I had already told him twice to put some damn clothes on. And each time, he just smirked and did the opposite. God, give me strength.

We’d beenin the studio for a few hours. Zay, Malachi and King had all left each needing to go handle their own business. But Royal refused to leave and honestly, I didn’t mind. We were in agood vibe, had a good flow. There was no need to end the session when really, I felt like it was just getting started for real.

I didn’t have to turn around to know he was there. I could feel him. Royal had this way of commanding the space just by existing. It was annoying as hell—and worse? It was working.

I inhaled sharply, setting my phone on the soundboard before turning to face him. And there he was. Standing way too damn close, shirtless again. His tattooed chest and abs on full display like he didn’t give a single damn about personal boundaries or the effect he had on people, specifically on me.

I dragged my eyes up to his face, doing my best to ignore the fact that this man looked like a walking sin, and rolled my eyes. “Put some damn clothes on, Royal.”

He smirked. “Why?”

I crossed my arms. “Because this ain’t your damn house.”

He took a slow step forward, forcing me to tilt my chin up to keep my glare locked on him. His gold chain caught the dim light of the studio, the tattoo on his neck shifting as he spoke.

“Nah, see…” He tapped his temple. “I been paying attention. You only tell me to put on a shirt when it’s just me and you in the studio.” My stomach clenched. I knew where this was going. “You like seein’ me like this,” he murmured. “You just don’t wanna admit it.”

I scoffed. “Boy, please.”

He leaned in a little, voice dropping lower. “It’s cool, Ave. I ain’t mad at it,” he said, his breath warm against my skin. “If I was you, I’d wanna look too.”

My pulse jumped, and I hated it. I hated how cocky he was. I hated that I was so damn aware of how close he was—how his scent was a mix of cologne, sweat, and sin, how his lips curled when he smirked, how he was so damn tall I had to tilt my head back just to hold my ground. But most of all? I hated that he was right.

I swallowed and took a step back, regaining my composure. “Personal space, Royal.” I lifted a brow. “You keep yours, I’ll keep mine.”

He grinned, slow and lazy. “I’on know, Ave. You might be the one crossing the lines.”

Before I could cuss him out properly, my phone rang. Saved. By. The. Fuckin’. Bell. I turned my back to him dramatically and grabbed my phone, exhaling sharply when I saw Egypt’s name on the screen.

“Excuse me,” I muttered, sending Royal a pointed look before walking out into the hallway.

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