Ruin In Royals (Royal #1: Book 2) | ✔

20

-• hear me moan a name that's not yours •-

I splay my free hand on the glass, watching the people groove to the music on the dance floor. I haven't spoken a word since he answered the call. I don't trust my mouth, especially when I'm drunk. I'm afraid to say things I might regret tomorrow. It's one thing to desperately drink dial him, completely different to admit it was on purpose. That even in the state of intoxication, it's him that I think about the most.

"Where are you?" He asks, a rich timbre to his deep, dark voice.

"Where do you think?" I finally break my silence.

"I can hear the faint music. It's a crowded place. A club?" He guesses right.

"Bingo!" I chuckle.

"I'm sure you've many willing men to keep you company, any specific reason to call me?" He questions, not at all bothered about his insinuation. Maybe the devil inside him stopped wanting me. Too bad, mine is still seething, needing, salivating at the thought of him close.

"I'm celebrating my last day here." I avoid answering his question. "I'm returning home tomorrow."

"So I have heard." He states.

"I'm wearing the heels you got me," I click them against the floor.

"What are you trying to do, Esther?" His voice drops low.

"Shourya, how much time does it take to find a bottle of wine!?" A piercing, young, feminine voice rips through the background. My grip around the glass tightens. "Get done with your phone conversation and come back. It's no fun without you." She commands. That's right, she commands him.

"Just give me five minutes, sweetheart" he replies back compliantly.

I clench my jaw. Absurd, I know. We don't owe anything to each other. As he said, that night was an accident, in other words, a mistake that we should move on from. He's a handsome man, it's only normal he has girls fluttering around him like bees around blooms.

"Sorry, it's my-"

"I get it. You're busy. Just called to inform you the heels didn't keep up with the expectations." I say with an unamused chuckle. "Didn't I tell you I'm a high maintainence girl? I'm not really a fan of cheap things. Bye, have a fun night." And I hang up after conjuring up the most ridiculous lie of the century.

Fuck, that was so embarrassing.

My hand on the glass wall curls up into a fist and I hold back a groan of frustration. Accidentally, my eyes land back on Connor. Feeling my gaze on him, he looks up, but unlike before, there's no cockiness in his grey swirls. He tips his wine glass at me, as if raising a toast, a smile on his lips. I jerk my head at him to come upstairs. The smile on his lips fades, and he mouths to me, are you sure?

I blink slowly in reassurance.

I'd never seen a man move so fast before. In less than a minute he's upstairs and the guard, already familiar with him, allows him inside without a word.

"Let's sit down," I offer, my hand stretched towards the couch.

"After you," he says politely.

Once we've settled down, I flag down a waitress with the help of the bell. She notes down our drinks, requesting ten minutes to serve.

"So, what do you do, Connor?" I inquire curiously.

"I'm an investment banker." He replies. "What about you? You're young enough to start University. What major are you choosing?"