The blonde doesn't spare me a second glance. She claims Ronan's lap, pressing her lips to his. I've seen her type before. Not the talking type, purely physical. I pity Rone sometimes. He's the crown-prince, the heir to the throne, but no one takes the time to get to know him for who he is. They see power, titles, status and forget underneath all of that finery, he's a real person with feelings and dreams.
Holy hell. I've been hanging out with Kitarni and Eris way too much.
I take another swig of my whiskey. Is this my fourth or fifth? I don't remember.
A hand glides over my thigh, close to my groin. I flick my eyes over my glass and meet the fiery redhead's gaze beside me. She bats her long eyelashes and smiles. I'd be a liar if I claimed she wasn't attractive. Weeks ago, I would have had no problem leading her out back and screwing her against the brick facade. Despite those bright brown eyes of hers, I would rather be alone.
I grab her hand and gently remove it from my lap.
"What's the matter?" she pouts and reaches for my belt. "Do I make you nervous?"
"Just not in the mood tonight." I down the rest of my drink and set the glass on the counter. The rattling jars Ronan enough to come up for some air. "I'm ready to head out."
"What?" Ronan's eyes widen. "They just got here."
"You can stay." I shove my hand in my pocket and throw some coins on the table to cover my tab. "I have an early flight in the morning. I'm going to turn in."
"Nyx – "
The redhead grabs my wrist as I stand. "Want some company? It's a cold night. I'd hate to be alone in my bed."
I retract my hand. "You're lovely, but I'm not your type."
"I'm everyone's type," she hisses.
"I've wounded your ego. I apologize." I press my palm to my chest. "I hope you find someone to warm your bed. It just won't be me." I tip my head to Ronan and his companion. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."
I don't wait for a response or another one of Rone's rebuttals. Stomping down the staircase and sifting through the crowd on the dance floor, I head for the front door and out into the chilly night. I inhale the cold air and it makes me feel alive. Why was it stifling in there?
"Wait up!"
I light my reefer as Ronan rushes over to me.
"Where are you going?"
"I told you. I'm going home."
"If you don't find her attractive, we can find another – "
I shake my head and exhale a cloud of smoke. "She's not the problem. It's me."
"Are you…are you sick or something?" He eyes me head to toe looking for some mysterious illness to reveal itself.
"No, I'm just not interested in bedding her." I plop my hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about me. I'm tired. That's all."
"Well, I suppose we should be turning in for the night. Father expects me early in the morning for another meeting anyway."
"Don't leave on my account," I catch up to him as he spears in the direction of the row house.
"Honestly,Prue'sisn't as much fun without you." He shoves his hands in his pockets. "Besides, if I'm late or even slightly hung over tomorrow, Father will ring my neck. I suspect I'm on thin ice as it is since I've refused to find a bride. His threats to find one for me are issued daily."
"I don't envy you, Rone." I exhale another cloud of smoke and walk through it. "You staying at the row house?"
"If that's ok?"
"Shaye moved into Atlas' room, so you can use the spare room again."
"Good, cause sleeping on the leather couch was awful." He stretches upward, cracking his back. "I feel like I'm getting too old for couches."
